𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 | 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞

¹⁰ | Late night talking

ɢᴜʏ ɢᴇʀᴍᴀɪɴᴇ

𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 to 1 am when I hear the phone ring downstairs. It is just me and Eric in the house tonight. Mom is in Wisconsin for the weekend, visiting my father's parents. I would have gone, but our first game was today--it was a shit show.

My voice is not groggy when I answer because I'm not tired. I've spent my Friday night at home, muttering things. I'm not sure if you could call it talking to myself, because I am talking to someone--they just can't respond. A sane person could say I was crazy, but a crazy person could call me sane. In the end, it's all the same, really.

"Guy! Can you hear me?"

Music is blasting so loudly in the background that I can feel its beat pound through the line.

"Hello? Who is this?" I ask because, in reality, I can barely make out the words. Everything is slurred and blaring.

"Maeve! It's me, Mae!" she shouts into the phone. "Oh my God, Guy, you won't believe how crazy it is here!"

"Mae? Where are you? Are you alright?" I immediately question because the last time I checked, we were not exactly on speaking terms.

"What time is it? Is it late? Did I wake you?"

"No, Mae, you didn't. Would you just tell me what's going on?"

"Oh, well, I'm...well, I think..." her sentence trails off when she starts laughing. "I think I'm at a party."

"You think you are?" I question, already reaching for my coat. "Do you think you know where this party is?"

"Do you know Rick Riley?"

"Yes, Maeve. We all know Rick Riley. Are you there, at his house?"

She's laughing even harder now. A string of jumbled-up words come through the line and I tell her I can't understand what she's saying.

"You won't believe the time I'm having," she says. "It's just all so great. It's fun and free and you wouldn't believe it, but no one here cares that I'm a duck, really. That sounds funny, doesn't it?"

"Are you-" I stammer. "Are you drunk?"

I hear giggles and someone shouting behind her. "Maybe..."

"Okay, I'm coming to get you."

"Yes! Come to the party!" Mae gasps. "You'll be able to let everything go here! You can forget all the bullshit here!"

"Maeve, what's the address?"

"Hmmm," she hums. "One second."

"32 Linden Hills" a new voice answers, but with the same joyful delirium. It's a boy, I can tell. But I don't have it in me to dwell on it right now.

"Maeve, I'll be there soon. Please don't go anywhere."

"Pinky swear?"

"Pinky swear," I promise. "I'll see you soon."

I hang the phone up before rushing up the staircase, two steps at a time, to my brother's room. He's pretending to be asleep when I barge through the door.

"I know you're awake, Dipshit," I say. "And I really need your help."

"What'd you do?" he asks me.

"It's Mae."

He grabs his key before I can say anything more.

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