Eleven O'Clock Number

MUSICAL #25: OLIVER!

25: TOBY, DON'T SAY YOU LOVE 'OLIVER!' OUT LOUD, PEOPLE MIGHT GET THE WRONG IDEA

« shut up and drink your gin. »

"SO YOU THINK I should just text him?" Allison says into the phone, biting her lip in thought. On the other side of the line, Reuben gives a heavy sigh, a rush of static down the receiver.

"Yes, Allison," she can practically hear him rolling eyes. "You should text him."

"But he hasn't texted me..."

"Be the mature one and make the first move."

"What if he doesn't want to talk to me?"

"He does."

"But what if he doesn't?"

Reuben gives another sigh. "Allison. He does. I promise. Just do it, okay? For me. And if it doesn't work out - wait!" he stops himself in mock horror. "What am I talking about? Of course it will!"

"That's what you think," Allison mutters.

"Yeah, it is what I think, and I think right, like, ninety-nine percent of the time."

"More like ninety-five."

"Your odds are still fucking great."

"Okay," Allison says. "Fine. I'll text him."

Reuben snorts. "You're saying it like you're doing me a favour, or something. Do you not want to talk to him?"

"I do, I just..." Allison trails off thoughtfully. "What if he doesn't want to talk to me?"

"You know, I'm getting déjà vu, it's like...hold on - it's almost as if...oh! As if you literally just said these exact words to me thirty seconds previously."

Allison scowls. "Reuben. I'm serious."

"So am I. If he doesn't talk to you then it's his loss. You're fucking hot."

She hesitates, not knowing which part of his response to get annoyed at first. She settles for a terse: "I don't see how my attractiveness has anything to do with us making up as friends."

"As friends. Sure."

"We are!"

"That's what they all say, and: bam! They're having friendly make-up sex."

Allison can feel her cheeks begin to heat up and thanks God that Reuben can't see her. "Shut up, Reuben."

"You're blushing, aren't you?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, you totally are," she can't see Reuben, but she has no doubt that there's an infuriating smirk on his face. "C'mon, like you haven't thought of getting it on with the guy?"

By this point, Allison's cheeks are definitely burning. "I have not!" she declares.

"Sure."

"You're terrible."

"I know. Listen, I gotta go, okay? Just talk to him. It'll be fine, I promise. Text me and tell me how it went."

"Okay," Allison replies. "Bye."

"Bye, Allison. Say hi to Toby when you both get your shit together."

Allison is about to reply, but Reuben's already hung up, his voice being replaced with a single monotone beep. She brings her phone away from her face with a long-suffering sigh, slumping back down on the bed and ending up opening up her message conversation with Toby, thumbs hovering over the keypad. She chews at her lip in thought for a few more seconds, before steeling herself and beginning to type a message.