Reversed (NEW CHAPTER!)

Chapter 6: Late Night Phone Calls

After getting home, three slices of reheated pizza, two episodes of Netflix, a written report, and a bedtime routine later, I was sitting on my bed in a pair of flannel shorts and a sports bra, calling Phil to check in.

"Hello?" he answered on the third ring.

"Hey, Phil. Just checking in," I yawned.

"Someone sounds tired," he laughed, "So what happened that you wanted to talk to me about after you left my office?"

"Yeah, long day," I chuckled softly, crawling between my pink and white sheets, "And it's nothing, really. I just know how you are, and if you found out from someone else that I," here it goes, "gotintoasmallcaraccident," I mumbled really quickly, "then you wouldn't be happy that I didn't inform you, so that's... what I'm doing." I finished in a higher voice. I felt like a teenager telling my dad I just scratched his new car when I took it for a spin without his permission... Not that I'd know anything about that.

"Sang! Repeat that once more," he warned.

Sighing, I figured I should probably get this over with already, "On the way back to my apartment from the Academy this big ass SUV came out of nowhere and it almost hit me," I heard his intake of breath," BUT IT DIDN'T," I clarified, "I managed to avoid it. There shouldn't even be a bruise," I reassured him.

"I knew that you riding that damn bike was a bad idea. It's too dangerous. Nobody ever sees you on that thing and I don't know what I would do if you'd been hit and I-" his voice cracked.

"Dad!" I yelled softly to get his attention. Even though I saw him as my father, I usually just called him by his name or title to remove any confusion. Calling him 'dad' let him know that I was being serious, I loved him, and that I was alright. The first time I ever called him that was about a year and a half after I'd left my family. I was having another one of my nightmares and he came into my room to comfort me while I cried myself back to sleep. Now I usually only said it when one of us was stressed out and needed that family connection, or  when we were alone. At the office I was careful not to in order to remain professional. He was a director of the Academy after all and as the ghostbird I wasn't supposed to be tied to anyone or anything. At least, no one was supposed to know I was.

"I'm really okay. You taught me to know when something is wrong with my body, and besides, I am a pretty fantastic driver," I giggled. Usually he was the only one who could make me want to do that... But before today it had certainly been awhile since the last time. I couldn't remember, actually. Maybe years.

I heard the smile in his voice, "I haven't heard that sound in a while," he sighed, "But back to the moron who almost hit you. Did you get a plate number?"

"No, I didn't get a plate number. It was an accident. The man driving the car was this big tattooed Russian who didn't seem to fully grasp the concept of American traffic laws, yet. He had three other guys in the car with him, and they all seemed nice and remorseful enough for my near demise so I let them go," I shrugged even though he couldn't see it, "I just got good vibes off of them. I can't explain it."

There was a long pause and then he... laughed.

I definitely wasn't expecting that. And it wasn't a chuckle, either. It was big belly-laughs. The kind that make it hard to breathe and put tears in your eyes.

Certain I didn't say anything to warrant laughter I asked, "What is it? What do you know that you're not telling me?"

"Oh, Sang," he laughed, "I truly can't wait for you to find out," his laughter faded into chuckling.

Okay... Whatever that means.

"So, how did tonight go?" he switched topics.

"The mission went well. I e-mailed you my report already because I don't think I'll have the time tomorrow," I answered, immediately regretting my response when his own came.