Back in my room, I check my phone for any messages from Axl. I asked him this morning when we could talk, and all he said was later. I’m not sure what that means. He usually works the morning shift on Saturday, so he should be home by now.
I can’t wait to tell him the news. I already bought his plane ticket but didn’t want to tell him until I had him on the phone. He’s going to be so excited that we get to see each other next weekend. He thought we’d have to wait until Thanksgiving. I would’ve found a way to see him sooner than that, but I didn’t think it’d be next weekend. Who knew finding Brock cheating on his girlfriend could result in so many benefits? No more curfew,andI get to see my boyfriend.
I call Axl, my heart beating faster as I wait for him to pick up. I hope he answers. I’m too excited to wait any longer. I have to tell him.
“Hello?” a voice answers. It’s not Axl’s voice. It’s a girl.
“Sorry, I must have the wrong number,” I say, ending the call.
What the hell? I look at my list of calls. It says I just called Axl. Did his number get messed up when I got my new phone? I check the number assigned to his name. It’s the right number.
I call again.
The girl answers. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Yeah. I’m looking for Axl.”
“He’s talking to a friend. He’ll be back in a minute.”
“Who’s this?” I ask, my heart pounding, but now it’s from anger, not excitement.
“Babe, what are you doing?” I hear someone say. It almost sounded like Axl, but the voice was distant, so it’s hard to tell.
“Someone keeps calling,” the girl yells.
“I told you not to answer!” He sounds closer now, and I swear it’s Axl’s voice.
Why is he with a girl? And why is she answering his phone? He never lets anyone answer his phone. He won’t even letmeanswer it.
“Hello?” I say, but there’s nobody there. They hung up.
I call right back, struggling to breathe because my heart’s beating so fast.
“Pick up, pick up,” I say, pacing the floor as his phone rings. It goes to voicemail. “Shit.”
I toss my phone on the bed and take deep breaths, still pacing the floor.
I’m sure it’s not what I’m thinking. He’s probably at work. The girl is probably the new employee they hired. She picked up his phone because . . .
I stop pacing, trying to think of a reason she’d pick up his phone.
Maybe he was with a customer. And he left his phone somewhere. But why was he calling her babe? He only callsmethat.
I inhale a deep breath, then pick up my phone to text him. But as I’m texting, my phone rings. Axl’s name lights up the screen.
“Axl?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry about earlier.”
“What happened? Why was some girl answering your phone?”
“I left it on the table when I was talking to a friend. You remember Hastings?”
Darryl Hastings was a guy who went to middle school with Axl. They were good friends until Darryl moved away.
“What about him?” I say, wishing he’d hurry up and tell me about the girl.
“I ran into him today and shit, the guy’s huge. Must’ve gained a couple hundred pounds. And he’s like six-seven now.”
