Chapter 20 - Phoebe

2K 48 6
                                    

My phone was watching me from the bed as I came back in, towel wrapped round my head. My fingers twitching with indecision as I reached for it.

I tapped the message quickly to read it before I could change my mind only to discover it was disappointingly anticlimactic.

Hey, just want to check you're okay. Sorry again about yesterday. Can we talk when you feel up to it?

When would I be up for talking to him? Maybe never? It was so difficult to talk to him. I either found myself sassing him or lost for words and both made productive conversations challenging.

I typed out a reply, then deleted it all and tried again. It was so hard to sound casually disinterested over text. Especially when your heart is telling you it's not indifferent.

Hey, yeah I'm fine. No worries, it's not your fault.

I hit send before I could change my mind, purposefully ignoring the last part of his message. I dropped the phone back on my bed and started to get ready. Just as I was doing the universal wiggle dance of trying to get into your jeans, I heard my phone buzz behind me.

The sound caused me to turn but with the jeans caught around my mid-thigh, I lost my balance, tumbling back into my basket of dirty washing with a curse.

I flopped across the floor like some sort of awkward denim mermaid until I reached my bed, stretching up to grab the phone.

It is my fault though and I'm sorry. Nice try avoiding the question btw. So when can we talk?

I groaned; the boy could not take a hint.

You're forgiven so don't worry.

I typed back quickly, throwing the phone back up and continuing my dance to get the jeans over my bum. I was just grabbing a flowery top from my wardrobe when my phone started ringing. I froze whilst reasoning in my head that due to the timing it was likely him or my mum.

Shaking myself I moved over and grabbed it. 'Elliott' the screen proclaimed.

I could tell he wouldn't give up easily. He was going to keep calling so I might as well get it over with.

"Damn." I mumbled under my breath, hitting answer and bringing the phone up to my ear, "Hello?"

"Oh hi, I umm...sorry I didn't think you were going to answer." Came the shocked reply.

"Why did you call then?" I dropped onto the bed, curling into my pillows and trying to move them into a fort around me.

"Because I wanted to talk to you. Check you are okay?" he sounded tired, had he slept?

I sighed, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"Well if you know how I'm feeling why did you bother asking?" I snapped.

My heart pounded in the silence that followed. I knew I was being unfair and harsh, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

"That's fair." He said quietly, only adding to my guilt.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry, I just," I lapsed into silence, unable to describe the feelings accurately.

"I know."

But he didn't. The confusing mix of emotions I was feeling for him were clouding my better judgement. Attraction and fear mingling together in a way that simultaneously made me want to run to him and from him.

I opened my mouth twice, but no words came out. Why did my brain refuse to function when I spoke to him?

"Have you seen the headlines?" he asked after a moment longer.

Overdue - A Rockstar RomanceWhere stories live. Discover now