Theory [TOM HOLLAND]

SEVENTY

outgoing call to tomathan!

"hey! what's up?"

"shhh! don't speak so loudly. you're going to scare little trash king!"

"mel, are you. . . drunk?"

"absolutely not. i would never touch satan's piss."

". . ."

"this is kara speaking. based on my keen observations, i feel i can safely report that mel is, in fact, drunk."

". . . what do you mean i only know because mel said she was drunk ten minutes ago? my observations are keen. fucking keen, i say!"

". . ."

"uh, is everyone okay? i just heard, like, a very loud crunch. should i call the authorities? i feel like i should call the authorities. based on your track record."

"hey, it's mel! i'm back! everyone is fine! my elbow just gently collided with kara's jaw. do not contact the authorities."

"what?"

"tom, seriously, not so loud! little trash king is super sensitive to noise."

"who—who is little trash king?"

"the seagull i lured from the gutter with a chicken nugget. he is mine now and his name is little trash king."

"do you want me to come pick you up? i'm kind of concerned about what's happening down there."

"no way! i'm doing great. so, so great."

"well, okay. i'm glad to hear you're having a nice time."

"um, hey, did you need anything from me in particular?"

"nope. just wanted to hear your voice."

"you—i. . . oh. really?"

"listen, tommy. i have to tell you this thing. and it's like, a big thing. and i don't want to because you'll be sad and i don't want to make you sad."

"mel, you know you can tell me anything."

"i know. i know. it's. . ."

"well, remember that one time you got those shoes delivered? and how they never came? it's because i stole them off your doorstep because. . . i mean, they were really fucking sick."

"mel! stealing is illegal!"

"i did nothing wrong. laws are just suggestions."

"that's not—how did you even fit into them?"

"are you kidding? we wear the same size. you have the feet of a keebler elf."

"hey!"

". . ."

"yes, i told him. about the shoes. no, not about the other thing. kara, no. what if i tell him and he. . . what if he. . ."

"tell me what?"

"shit, you heard that?"

"yeah. what's going on mel?"

"it's nothing. i-it's just. . ."

"i got into MIT. and i'm going."

"mel, that's amazing!"

". . . and i leave in two days."

". . ."

"oh."

"you're not mad, are you? i'm sorry i didn't tell you. i just—i didn't think i could leave if you, um..."

"i'm not mad. i probably should be, but i mean, i'm still proud of you, you know? you deserve this more than anyone."

"right. yeah. it's everything i've ever wanted."

"except. . . except now there might be other things i want too. and i can't have them if i go to MIT, you know?"

"i-i don't think i do. what's keeping you here?"

"oh. you can't, um, think of any reason i should stay?"

"well, no. MIT is your dream."

"right. got it. that's the dream. almost forgot."

"are you okay? your voice sounds funny."

"yeah, i'm fine. hundred percent."

". . ."

"tom?"

"yeah?"

"thank you. i feel like i should thank you. for putting up with everything and still somehow ending up by my side every time. it's probably more than i deserve."

"of course. always."

"listen, mel. are you sure you're all right?"

"just getting used to goodbyes."

"i think this might be ours, tom."

"wha—no! no. you're just going to boston. i'm sure it'll be fine."

"i mean, we'll stay in contact. right?"

"sure. it just. . . won't be same, i don't think. um, i'm going for a while."

"how long?

". . . it's a five year program."

"oh."

"i'm so sorry, tom."

"for what? for going? you can't be. this is—this is what's going to make you happy. not anything else."

". . . right?"

"you said it yourself. i have no reason to stay."

"right. i did say that. but only because. . ."

"forget it. it doesn't matter. maybe it would've mattered if things were different, but they're not."

". . ."

"tom. . . i-i have to go. i'm sorry."

"okay. okay, sure. i guess i'll. . . well, i guess i'll see you sometime."

"goodbye, tom."

"goodbye, mel."

call ended 2:04 am

"i love you."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
me: what if they say 'i love you' at the end
my brain: okay sure
me: but we don't know who said it
my brain: yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSS