*Watty's 2021 Shortlist*
Samantha Roberts and Ben Evans have one thing in common - they both attend Sir Robertson's School for the Gifted, an elite boarding school for the children of the world's wealthiest. Both scholarship students, they gravitate...
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When I wake up, it's almost like nothing ever happened with Ben. Outside, wind whips at the palm trees, knocking the fronds against the window panes. It looks like a storm brewing, which is no joke, not here, where a storm can mean a typhoon that knocks out the power and leaves us isolated indoors for days.
I rub my eyes and sit up, glad that it's the weekend and I could sleep in. Glad that I can just spend the entire day cozied up on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa, or in the library. Just watching the raindrops out of the window.
This is my favourite kind of day.
I change into some cozy tights and my favourite sweater, and head to the kitchen, where I put on some water for tea and stare out the window blindly.
When it's ready, I cradle the burning hot mug in my hands and head to the living room, where I curl up on the couch and pick up my phone. Sure enough, there's a storm warning in place, and an additional notice from the school, letting us all know to make sure we're inside when the storm hits.
I'm kinda shocked to see a message notification when I turn it on. No one calls me.
But when I look closer, any good mood I might have been in evaporates. It's Ben. He never calls, let alone leaves a message. We always text each other.
For a while I'm tempted just to delete it without listening to it, but my curiosity gets the better of me. I take a fortifying sip of hot tea before pressing play.
"Sam -" Ben sounds scared, really scared, and my heart drops. I shouldn't have left him, shouldn't have yelled and made everything worse. What if he's in the hospital again?
"I need to talk to you, Sam. It's really important, so call me back when you get this, no matter what time it is."
He pauses, and I bite my lip. Something is really wrong here, and I'm starting to get that feeling again. That dizzy, out-of-place feeling.
"I'm scared, Sam. I need you."
I freeze, eyes on my phone, not breathing. That's the end of the message. That's all he gave me, and I'm scared to call him back, scared to find out what has happened. Not that not knowing is any better.
I hit his contact with trembling fingers, holding my phone to my ear and listening to it ring.
"Hey, Sam, what's up?" Ben sounds confused.
"Are you okay?" I ask, relief filling my veins at the sound of his voice. He's awake, he's talking, and there's no fear in his voice. I don't think I could handle hearing that again.
"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" He sounds groggy, confused, and I realize with a pang of guilt that I probably woke him up. "Listen," he says. "Is this about the fainting thing? Because I told you that was fine."
He's starting to sound irritated, and the feeling of wrongness is just getting stronger.
"No," I say. "I mean—I'm glad you're okay. But you left me a message last night?"
