Happy Merry Everything (Charlie Barber)

If You're Feeling Brave

You sat there at the kitchen island for a long time processing the call. You had listened to his message at least two more times.

"If you're feeling brave..."

You supposed calling him back would take some bravery. He hadn't been suggesting you were afraid to talk to him. You acknowledged calling someone you didn't know was a bit daunting and yet he hadn't seemed to give it a second thought before hitting the "call" button. You tried to talk yourself into it. You liked him enough to keep texting. That much was obvious to you. He already had your number. If he turned out to be some creep or homicidal maniac, you could always block his.

You had mentally prepared yourself to be open, but not to share too much extraneous detail for your own safety. If he wanted to be more so, that was his business, but you knew for sure you weren't going to be straight up murdered by sharing the teeniest bit too much—you were going to play your cards close.

You put your phone in your pocket and carefully picked up your mug. The cup was warmer than you thought and you still almost dropped it. You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge for the chill of it and promised yourself to drink it before you went to bed.

You did your best to quietly climb the stairs. You didn't want to risk waking anyone up. You could hear the gentle hum of the TV coming from Alex's room, but you'd expect nothing less. He had been sleeping with it on since he started having night terrors as a kid and you'd sometimes wake down the hall to the sound of informercials if he managed to accidentally roll over on the remote in his sleep.

When you reached your room, you tossed the bottle of water onto your bed and closed the door as gently as you could. You heard the latch click and knew you were good. You glanced at your alarm clock. There were still a few minutes to change for bed before you called him back—if you called him at all. You sat on your bed with your phone in hand, thinking about how he sounded in the voicemail. He was sweet albeit a little unsure of himself. You took a sip of cocoa and sat the mug carefully on your nightstand. It was now or never. You tapped on your phone screen and selected the missed call.

Ring. Ring.

Ring.

You took a deep breath. Maybe he wouldn't pick up.

"Hello?"

His voice was warm. Was he smiling?

"Hi Charlie."

"Hi."

He said your name and you suddenly felt so shy like you were talking to a boy for the very first time.

"How are you?" He chuckled. "I'm well, thank you. How about yourself?"

"I'm great."

"Oh good."

You both sat in silence, unsure of what to say next.

"So...I've gotta ask." he started. "god coming down in a golden Cadillac to rapture away all of the hippies at the end...that's really your favorite movie?"

He was teasing you. You giggled. "I never said The Apple was good!"

"But it's your favorite! Shouldn't it be?"

"Should it be?" He was definitely smiling now. You were too. "I suppose you're right." "You never told me your favorite Christmas movie by the way."

"I didn't?"

"Mmm-mm."

"Well that's because you didn't ask me...so..."