Why Don't We One Shots

Pay Phone - Jorbyn

Corbyn absolutely hated being late. Especially when his first period class was astronomy, something in school he actually liked. And he hated taking the city bus. But since he lived outside his fancy private school's district, he was forced to take the city bus every day.

But on this day, he got to the bus stop, absolutely miserable. He'd forgotten his math homework at school the day before, unfinished, his parents had fought yet again, and his best friends were all stuck at home, sick with food poisoning. Corbyn, in his defense, did try to help them out. Never eat the cafeteria's mystery lunch, even if you're dared to.

While sitting on the bus's bench, seeing as it was late for the third time this week, Corbyn was reading To Kill A Mockingbird. Suddenly, the pay phone next to him rang. Once. Twice. Corbyn, being the curious mind he was, picked it up.

"Hello?" He asked.

"You look absolutely miserable," a voice on the other end said. "Cheer up, you're reading a great book. 'To Kill A Mockingbird' is one of the best."

"How did you-?" Corbyn asked, suddenly scared for his life. Was he being stalked?

"Don't ask questions, gorgeous," the voice continued. "Just keep answering."

When the bus finally did show up that day, Corbyn went to school, but all he could focus on was the strange phone call he'd gotten. That voice sounded so familiar, and yet Corbyn couldn't place it...

The phone calls went on for weeks. Sometimes Corbyn would show up to the bus stop late or early, wondering if the call would still come through, and it did. Every single time, that phone rang. And Corbyn still had no idea who it was that he was talking to.

"Who are you?" Corbyn would ask, almost every day.

"You know," the mystery man would answer. "You just have to dig a little deeper, but you know who I am."

That same day, Corbyn found a note taped to his locker. It said:

Dig a little deeper. -J

He finally had a lead.

Corbyn became so aware of his surroundings, taking in every face in all his classes, seeing no one who could be his mystery caller. His friends began to notice, wondering what was going on. And after a month of searching with no answers, Corbyn had had enough.

"I'll stop answering," he threatened. "I need to meet you face-to-face."

"Monday," the boy answered, torturing Corbyn for one final weekend. "I'll be there Monday."

But Saturday night, Corbyn couldn't take it anymore. His parents, screaming over Corbyn's education, were fighting, again. And Corbyn was caught in the crossfire of it all. So he packed a bag and slipped out the window. No one would notice he was gone until morning.

Because it was close to midnight, no one else was on the bus except for a dark haired boy reading Go Set A Watchman. He took one look at Corbyn, sitting in the back of the bus, broken, and closed his book immediately.

"Are you okay?" Corbyn looked up into sharp hazel eyes. Beautiful eyes. The eyes of Jonah Marias, the quiet boy who sat behind him in astronomy.

"Not really," Corbyn answered, his voice cracking. He couldn't take it anymore. He broke down, not caring that Jonah, this beautiful boy, basically a stranger to him, was holding him tightly.

"What happened?" Jonah whispered against his blonde hair. Corbyn told him everything, and not once did Jonah's eyes leave Corbyn's green ones. Jonah sat through it all, hugging Corbyn to his chest, as if that would protect him from everything.

"Do you need somewhere else to go?" Jonah asked, keeping his arms around Corbyn. "Away from it for a while?"

Corbyn turned slightly pink. "I don't want to intrude...I was just going to ride the bus for a few hours. See where it takes me."

"No way. I am not letting you stay on this bus alone, in the middle of the night. Come with me," Jonah said, taking Corbyn by the hand. Corbyn allowed himself to be pulled off the bus, and into an apartment building across from the bus stop he waited at every morning.

"You live here by yourself?" Corbyn asked, watching as Jonah unlocked the door and led him into the small apartment.

"My aunt lives here with me," Jonah explained, toeing his shoes off by the door. "But she's working late shift tonight. My parents..." He shook his head sadly. "They're not around anymore. Died when I was seven."

Corbyn covered his mouth. "I'm so sorry," he said.

Jonah smiled softly, not knowing what to say. He led Corbyn to his room, giving him a change of clothes. "You can sleep here, if you want. I'll take my aunt's room." Seeing Corbyn open his mouth to protest, he added, "I don't mind. Get some sleep."

Corbyn noded. Something about Jonah was so warm, so familiar...and yet he couldn't pick it out.

Corbyn and Jonah spent the weekend together, and by the end of it they were as close as you could get to someone. Jonah's aunt, Joyce, was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and she adored Corbyn. She was sad to see him go and made Jonah promise to bring him around again soon.

"Thanks for everything, Jonah," Corbyn said, gathering his stuff. "It meant a lot."

"No problem," Jonah replied shyly. "And if you ever need to talk, I'm only one call away." Something in the back of Corbyn's mind stirred faintly.

Jonah wrapped Corbyn up tightly and then let him go. "Bye Greenie."

Corbyn smiled at the nickname, the color of his eyes, liking that Jonah thought of it just for him. "Bye Jo."

By Monday, Corbyn was practically jumping off the walls, excited to meet the boy he'd been talking to for so long. He got to the bus stop early, and sure enough, the phone rang.

"Where are you?" Corbyn demanded.

A chuckle. "Well, good morning to you too, sunshine."

Corbyn spotted Jonah smiling, walking out of the apartment building, phone pressed to his ear. The voice on the other end of the pay phone spoke.

"I told you you knew who I was. Put the pieces of the puzzle together, Greenie."

Everything fell into place. Only one person ever called him Greenie.

"Jonah?"

Corbyn glanced his direction. Jonah was looking both ways before walking toward him. He was speaking, and his lips matched the words of the voice on the other end perfectly.

"I'm someone who went through the hell of finding this number, all because I couldn't work up the courage to tell you in person that I liked you. Corbyn Besson, you are a smart, amazing boy and I've wanted to tell you that for a long time. So here I go. I'm telling you now. I always hoped that you would notice me, but you never did. I realized that I had to do something, or I was going to lose you. And that would've been the worst mistake I ever made. So when I found you on a bus, broken and upset, I saw a chance to help you. To get to talk to you. To make sure I never lost you. I found you that day, Corbyn."

Jonah smiled, stopping in front of Corbyn. He didn't hang up, but instead acted like he and Corbyn were still having a conversation over the phone.

"And I knew you'd find me."

He pressed his lips to Corbyn's, instantly making the blonde boy melt in his arms. Corbyn kissed him back.

"I can't believe you knew the number of a pay phone."

Jonah laughed. "It took a little bit of searching, but it was all worth it when you picked up on the other end."

Corbyn smiled and took Jonah's hand. If it weren't for the things he hated - the bus, being late - he never would've picked up the phone to find the thing he loved most.

~