The Game

Chapter Three

Tatum got up from the mattress, she was fully awake at this time, with the moon's reflection cutting through the window pane. Jillian was on the phone, still. Laughing while holding the microphone away from her mouth. Tatum rolled her eyes. She was quite tired of waiting for her turn. Jillian was taking too long. She slammed the receiver down, laughing manically. 'My turn now?'

'Yeah, sure. We can call somebody on the football team, or we'll call Mr Fisher. It'll be a riot.' Jillian replied. Tatum shook her head, getting up from the cold ground, sitting on the end of the bed's foot.

'Nah, let's dial someone random.' she said, reaching for the phone book. Jillian watched as the yellow pages clumped onto Tatum's knees. She pulled a random up and dialled it quickly before Jillian could see it. The dial tone was dull, it beeped with persistence. Then it rang, it rang for a good ten seconds. 'Hello?' she said, clicking the speaker phone setting.

'Yes?'

'Can I speak to Cindy?'

'Sorry, I think you have the wrong number.'

'I did everything she said. I killed Lucy. What do I do with the body?'

Tatum's eyes went wide and so did her mouth as she slapped Jillian's leg. She was almost in fits of laughter.

'Excuse me?'

'I did it, she's dead. Now she'll never become prom queen. Where do I put the body?'

The line went dead, Jillian fell back on Tatum's legs. 'Why'd you say that?' Tatum asked, holding her chest.

'Something new, wasn't it?' Jillian removed her from her face and pulled the pillow from under her head, getting to her feet on the cold hardwood floor. 'You want a drink?'

'Yeah, grape.' Tatum replied, her friend walked away and carried on dwn the hall, and around the stairs into the kitchen. Jillian watched as she saw the light from the fridge light up the corner. She jumped as the phone rang, she held it chest in nervousness and laughed at herself. Picking up the receiver, placing it to her ear. 'Michael's residence.' She answered, she waited for a reply on the other end. But there wasn't an answer. It was cold silence. 'Hello?' she asked.

Nothing.

'Whoever this is, about to star-sixty-nine your ass.' she threatened. Then came the breathing. It was heavy, as though somebody was blowing into the microphone, horrible distortion as far as the ear could hear without causing premature tinnitus so early in Tatum's life. 'Very funny Brian.' she remarked.

'You wish it was Brian.' The caller said in a very husky deep voice. The line went dead, Tatum looked at the handset, then slamming it down on the hook. Behind her was Jillian, returning from kitchen, she smiled as she handed the tin of pop to her friend.

'You like like you've seen a ghost.' she said.

'Was that you before?' Tatum asked, her face white as clean bedsheets. Jillian shook her head, her smile turned to a serious look. 'The phone -'

'What?' Jillian said, putting a hand n the girls back as though she was in dire need of comfort. She was. Tatum shook her head and blinked hard. 'It was probably just Brian and Mark. Those guys are always trying to scare us.' Jillian comforted, 'C'mon lets watch the movie.'

'Actually, maybe we should skip the freakfest. I've been scared enough for one night.' Tatum pulled the covers up, close to her face and rolled on her side. Jillian nodded and rubbed her best friend's back.

'Okay, it's okay.' she said, nodding. Laying with her back faced toward the ensuite. She came in close and held Tatum. 'It's been a shitty day, hasn't?' she joked.