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“Yeah.” I jerked my shoulder. “Or.” I hesitated for a second, but then decided to go for it. “Maybe it was a stray . . . you know . . . werewolf?”
“The what?” Now she sounded angry. The number of expressions she could go through in one short minute could’ve shocked some newbie, but I had seen it too many times to be surprised. “You need to stop watching those silly TV shows of yours.”
On Sundays, the library opened at 12:00 p.m., but it seemed she had enough emotions for one morning. Even though it was 11:15 a.m., and it usually took her only five minutes to get to work, she put her cup down, grabbed her bag and the car keys, and headed to the door, leaving me all alone with my dumb questions.
Of course, there was someone else who could satisfy my curiosity. And he said that he would stay in town in case I needed his help.
I went back to my room, picked up my phone, and sat on the bed. After staring at it for about a minute, I opened my contacts. The moment my finger touched his number, I changed my mind and pressed the red button. Hoping that the call didn’t go through, I tossed the phone aside.
Don’t be stupid. A stranger tells you a bunch of crap and you fall for it?
The phone buzzed, and so did my whole body, like someone just hit me with a stun gun.
Crap.
The phone lay upside down, and I couldn’t see the screen.
It can’t be him. Even if the call went through, there will be no name, just a number. He’ll think it’s telemarketing.
The phone kept buzzing. I reached for it and turned it around. It was Brian. I heaved a breath and answered the call. If I didn’t, he would keep calling, making me jump from that bloody sound the whole day.
“Hi, babe.”
I clenched my teeth.
“You didn’t answer any of my calls, and I was worried.”
“As you should be,” I snapped.
“Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . Listen, I was just—”
“Drunk and selfish? Yeah, you were.” My blood was starting to boil again.
And I was feeling so much better today.
“I know. But I want to make it up to you. Can I come over?”
Seriously? That sounds more like finishing what you started yesterday, but maybe more politely.
“Don’t you even think about it.”
“I said I’m sorry.” He rushed on. “I know I acted like a dick. But I miss you, and I want to see you.”
“Not gonna happen, Brian. See you at school, and we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll even talk to you. Can’t promise anything just yet.” I hang up, threw the phone on the bed, and got up.
I was still in my PJ shorts. Cursing Brian in my mind, I took the shorts off and grabbed my sweatpants from the chair. Before I could put them on, the phone buzzed again.
I wished I’d looked at the screen before shouting, “Brian, I swear the God, if you call me again—”
“Do you want me to deal with him?” I heard the familiar, low, calm voice.
My mouth fell open. “Sorry. I . . . I thought it was—”
“Brian.” I heard a chuckle. “It’s okay. But my offer still stands.”
“What? No. No, I can deal with him myself.”
“Spencer, you called, and that means you wanted to say something. Why did you change your mind?”
