Changing You ✦ The Sequel

Chapter 11 {R & Z}

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"There she comes," Jack said as I entered his room later that evening.

I didn't get time to wonder who he was talking to on the phone, as Corbyn's voice rang through the speaker:

"Waddup, Riles?" he greeted cheerfully.

I smiled, sitting down next to Jack on the bed. "What's poppin', Corbs?"

Jack shifted closer so the camera of his phone captured both of our faces and I could see Corbyn on his screen.

Jack looked at me. "Did you have fun with Zach?"

"Yeah," I smiled, thinking back to our little road trip, swimming adventure and picnic.

Corbyn arched a brow. "How much fun exactly?"

Feeling my cheeks heat up, I let myself fall backwards on the bed and covered my face with my hands. "Oh shut up, Corbs, one overprotective brother is enough."

I heard the grin in his voice. "Sucks for you that you've got four."

Rolling my eyes playfully, I felt Jack lie down next to me, holding the phone above our faces with a smirk playing on his lips. "It's called teamwork."

"It's called annoying," I said, shaking my head but failing to hold back a chuckle. "So, how's California treating you?"

Corbyn smiled. "I haven't seen much yet because I'm really busy with settling in, but what I've seen so far is beautiful. Like palm trees, skyscrapers, hills and beaches beautiful. It's so different from Beacon Hills, though," he said, adjusting the black Von Dutch hat that was covering up his messy hair. "It all feels kind of surreal."

"Yeah, no shit," Jack chuckled. "Beacon Hills and L.A. are like two different worlds."

"Yeah," Corbyn mumbled with a nod, turning his eyes down and looking away from the camera.

We had talked for less than five minutes, and I already came to the conclusion that I hated talking to my friends over FaceTime.

There was so much information missing, so many pieces I couldn't fit together to understand the whole picture: I couldn't see his full body language, couldn't hear his heartbeat, couldn't use his scent to tell how he was feeling.

All I could do was look at his limited features and listen to the sound of his voice. I wondered if this was what it was like for normal people when they talked to each other.

Trying to ignore the definite feeling of distance that slipped inside my head, I asked him about his apartment.

"Oh yeah it's great," he said, the smile returning to his face. "It's more on the outside of the city, so thank God it's a bit more calm here than in the centre because I would've gone insane," he chuckled.

I tried to picture Corbyn, with his supernaturally heightened senses, living in the middle of the crowded streets and chaotic traffic of Los Angeles, and pulled a face.

"There's actually a beach right outside of my apartment," he added enthusiastically. "And my neighbours are really nice and about the same age as me, so that's cool."

He flipped his camera around to show us some of his living room. He was sitting on a couch, surrounded by unpacked boxes and partly painted walls.

His face appeared on the screen again. "You guys should really come visit soon, when this place is a bit more cleaned up," he said. "I have a spare room so you can stay over as long as you want."