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“Hey, Melody. How was school?”
I pinch my brows in confusion because I didn’t tell anyone I was going to school today. I found out last night. How would Ariel know?
Ariel reaches behind me and grabs a bag. “This was delivered right before you walked in.” He holds up the takeout bag, and the smell of french fries drifts toward me from the diner. “There is a note.”
MELODY, CALL ME FOR THE ASSIGNMENT 614-233-6708.
“Oh,” I say, taking the bag.
“I figured you were in school because of the note attached.”
I open the bag, pulling the handles apart, and the staples give way. There is a cheeseburger and fries with the same brand of soda I left on the table, along with a brand-new bag of chips.
I look up. “Who dropped this off?”
I know who it’s from. But how did he know where I worked? I never said a word to anyone. He doesn’t know me, and I don’t think my brother would be stupid enough to tell him I worked here.
I stare at the number like it’s a creditor out for blood. Valen knows I need the assignment to pass the class. But why didn’t he write the assignment down on a piece of paper and slip it inside the bag instead of having it delivered?
I was told to stay away from him, but how can I if I have to call him for the assignment?
Ariel shrugs. “I was in the back. I heard the bell above the door, and by the time I walked by the register, it was here. I didn’t see anyone.”
I look into his eyes to see if he is lying, but I don’t know him enough to know for sure.
When I get home, I type the number four times on my phone, delete it, and start over. It’s my sixth time entering, and if I want to catch up in the class, I have no choice but to call. If not, I would have to explain to the professor why I couldn’t get the assignment from him.
I stare at the numbers on the screen, the pad of my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I look out the small window at the dark sky. A cloud passes over the bright moon.
It’s just a text, Melody.
He probably won’t text back right away and wait until morning. I’m sure he’s hanging out with his friends or with a girl.
“I’m losing my mind,” I mutter.
It’s not like I’m going to hear his voice or anything. He might not even recognize the number and leave me on read.
I let out a puff of air. My stomach turns into a knot.
Melody: Hey.
One.
Two.
Three.
I hit send and wait, staring at the screen like a bomb about to go off.
He’s not going to reply. It’s taking too long. I’m about to place my phone on the charger when it rings.
The phone slips from my hand and falls to the floor with a thud.
Shit.
I pick it up and look at his number flashing on the screen.
Oh. Fuck. I was expecting a text, not a phone call.
