across the room onto my comfy armchair. I didn’t want any more surprise phone calls. I needed some time to calm down and figure out what I was going to do about Tony, who was acting more suspicious by the minute. The last thing I needed was for Tony to start poking his nose about and meddling in my private business. I wondered if his newfound brotherly concern also meant that he’d told someone what he’d seen, or that he was doing research back home. If he figured out that I’d left around the same time when Tom disappeared for his ‘personal leave,’ there was going to be trouble. I didn’t think Tony would do anything to hurt me, but I knew my brother well enough to know that he’d try to protect me. And his idea of protection didn’t always match mine.
I’d unpacked half of my suitcase, my mind racing, when I heard the phone buzzing. Groaning, I walked to where I’d thrown it. I didn’t plan to answer it, but I wanted to at least know who I was ignoring. It was Vicky, which made me glad I hadn’t answered it. The last thing I needed right now was to hear more gossip about home, or Tom, or petite, perfect, pixie-like Christine. While Vicky was leaving about ten minutes’ worth of voicemail, another call came in. I was still standing there, and glanced down to see who was calling. I didn’t think I’d ever received so many calls in such a short space of time. Normally I would feel important or even popular, but with my mind in its current state, it just made me nervous. Why were so many people from home calling me? Was word already out about Tom and me? What was going on back there?
When I saw the number, though, I felt my lips curl into a satisfied, affectionate smile. I didn’t know how he’d already heard that I was back, but this was the call I’d been waiting for since landing in DC. I ducked down, scooped the phone up, and hit the green button.
“Professor Wellings,” I purred, “how did you know I was back? I was just thinking about having some friends over for dinner tonight, but I can put it off if you want to meet up.”
Chapter Eight - Give a Little Bit
I glanced at the phone for the tenth time in the last five minutes and sighed. Izzy had promised that she’d call me when she landed in DC, to let me know that she’d arrived safely, but no matter how many times I refreshed the call screen, her number still didn’t magically appear. She’d probably forgotten, as I tried to convince myself, or got caught up in the rush of getting her luggage and getting home. I’d been on enough trips to know that calling people wasn’t the first thing you thought of when you landed – there was luggage to be found, friends to meet, shuttles to find, and then the inevitable traffic to get through. Even knowing this, I still felt like she was avoiding me, after all, what does it take to make a thirty second phone call to tell your loved one you are home. She should know I would be worried if I didn’t hear from her. But then I knew Isabel, and the other person never came first. Izzy was probably just on her way home, filling her roommates in on what had happened over the summer, and getting situated again.
That was the rational side of me thinking things through.
The emotional side was freaking out. Why hadn’t she called? What was she doing? I’d checked the flight on the Internet, and could see that it had landed without delays, so I wasn’t worried about that. The idea that she was back on the East Coast, though – so far away from me, and in the midst of a college campus – made me more nervous than I’d expected. I missed having her next to me, telling me what she was thinking. I’d automatically reached for her several times throughout the day, and felt empty every time I found her missing. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking of me as much as I was thinking of her, she would have called by now. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking of me, which didn’t make me feel any
I’d unpacked half of my suitcase, my mind racing, when I heard the phone buzzing. Groaning, I walked to where I’d thrown it. I didn’t plan to answer it, but I wanted to at least know who I was ignoring. It was Vicky, which made me glad I hadn’t answered it. The last thing I needed right now was to hear more gossip about home, or Tom, or petite, perfect, pixie-like Christine. While Vicky was leaving about ten minutes’ worth of voicemail, another call came in. I was still standing there, and glanced down to see who was calling. I didn’t think I’d ever received so many calls in such a short space of time. Normally I would feel important or even popular, but with my mind in its current state, it just made me nervous. Why were so many people from home calling me? Was word already out about Tom and me? What was going on back there?
When I saw the number, though, I felt my lips curl into a satisfied, affectionate smile. I didn’t know how he’d already heard that I was back, but this was the call I’d been waiting for since landing in DC. I ducked down, scooped the phone up, and hit the green button.
“Professor Wellings,” I purred, “how did you know I was back? I was just thinking about having some friends over for dinner tonight, but I can put it off if you want to meet up.”
Chapter Eight - Give a Little Bit
I glanced at the phone for the tenth time in the last five minutes and sighed. Izzy had promised that she’d call me when she landed in DC, to let me know that she’d arrived safely, but no matter how many times I refreshed the call screen, her number still didn’t magically appear. She’d probably forgotten, as I tried to convince myself, or got caught up in the rush of getting her luggage and getting home. I’d been on enough trips to know that calling people wasn’t the first thing you thought of when you landed – there was luggage to be found, friends to meet, shuttles to find, and then the inevitable traffic to get through. Even knowing this, I still felt like she was avoiding me, after all, what does it take to make a thirty second phone call to tell your loved one you are home. She should know I would be worried if I didn’t hear from her. But then I knew Isabel, and the other person never came first. Izzy was probably just on her way home, filling her roommates in on what had happened over the summer, and getting situated again.
That was the rational side of me thinking things through.
The emotional side was freaking out. Why hadn’t she called? What was she doing? I’d checked the flight on the Internet, and could see that it had landed without delays, so I wasn’t worried about that. The idea that she was back on the East Coast, though – so far away from me, and in the midst of a college campus – made me more nervous than I’d expected. I missed having her next to me, telling me what she was thinking. I’d automatically reached for her several times throughout the day, and felt empty every time I found her missing. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking of me as much as I was thinking of her, she would have called by now. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking of me, which didn’t make me feel any
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