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Chapter Seven
Phone Call
Five Years Ago
A Sunday
(Buzzing)
Teagan:You’re the only twenty-year-old who still calls anyone.
Silas:I’m sure I’m not the only one.
Teagan:Even my grandma texts me at this point.
Silas:Well, I’m driving. Leave me alone. What are you doing?
Teagan:Packing. I can’t get this damn suitcase to close!
Silas:Packing for what?
Teagan:Um, our study abroad trip to France. You know, the semester-long excursion we’ve been planning for months?
Silas:The excursion that we leave for in over a month?
Teagan:I needed a practice run to see if it will all fit.
Silas:Of course. Packing usually requires rehearsal. I’m guessing it doesn’t all fit?
Teagan:I’m going to hang up on you.
Silas:No, you won’t. What did you overpack? Notebooks? You don’t need that many. They sell paper over there.
Teagan:What if I’m walking down the boulevard de la Croix-Rousse and I’m struck with inspiration but I don’t have my favorite notebook with me because I had to make room for underwear?
Silas:So, does that mean you’re currently deciding between packing notebooks and going commando across Europe?
Teagan:You’re funny, Si. Do I ever tell you that?
Silas:Not enough. I’ll make you a deal. You can pack a few notebooks in my suitcase if you promise to take underwear with you.
Teagan:This is why you’re single. C’mon, you stupid thing. Zip!
Teagan:Don’t laugh at me.
Silas:I can’t help it.
Silas:And I’m single because I spend all my time wrangling my best friend to make sure she’s not going to flash her creative writing professor.
Teagan:I would totally flash my creative writing professor. He’s hot! And your standards are too high.
Teagan:Yes! Got it! It zipped!
(The sound of a car blinker in the background)
Silas:Having standards isn’t the same as them being too high.
Teagan:I’m just saying, maybe you should worry about some other woman’s underwear. Or what’s inside them. You might meet the girl of your dreams and then you could call her on the phone like an old man instead of calling me.
