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60
BILLIE
Knock, knock!
I gasped, jerking upright from the couch, my phone still in my hand.
Lo gasped too, from the other end of the call, “Who is that?”
Knock, knock!
But it sounded more like, bang, bang! It was that hard and that quick.
“Someone’s at the door, Lo.”
“No shit, Billie. Who is it?”
It sounded again.
“Oh my God, what are you going to do?”
I stood, my knees were shaking. I clutched the phone tighter. “I don’t know. What should I do?”
“You could call the police.”
“I could.” I frowned, looking at the emptied wine bottle on the table. “I think I’m drunk.”
“I am too. Brett never got back to your room, did he?”
“Come on!” a male voice yelled from the other side.
“It’s a guy,” I raised the phone, speaking into it in a hushed voice, my head folding down. My shoulders hunched too.
“Again, no shit. I’m on speaker, Billie. Are you going to call the police?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m on the phone with you.”
“Oh, yeah. Do you want me to call the police for you? Where are you again?”
“How are you going to call? You’re on the phone too. With me.” She’d been drinking with me. We’d been commiserating together, but after Lo reassured me that I hadn’t been totally wrong because Brett was all up in my business, and not returning the favor, so a part of me had been right. The ultimatum part, which I never meant as an ultimatum, was a bit harsh. We came up with a plan on what to say to help ease the sting of that threat away because I loved Brett. I had no intention of leaving his side anytime soon, except now in the very literal sense.
“I can have Roger call. Where are you?”
I migrated closer to the door, whispering into the phone, “Fallen Crest.”
“Where?”
“Fallen Crest.” Only a little louder this time.
“Where?”
“Fallen Crest!” I shouted this time.
“Hey!” came from the other side of the door.
