Malarie (Mal) is a 21 year old, city raised woman who works at a Waffle House in central California who so desperately wants to live in a small town. She is an early gen Z and feels like she doesn't fit in with her surroundings, she would love to ju...
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Mal's POV:
"Hello?"....
I hear his voice on the other side of the phone. Rough and raspy, almost like he just woke up. I check the time and realize it's almost 3:00am. Shit.
"Hello?" I hear his voice again.
"Hi" I say quietly.. sniffling.
"Mal?" He says groggily.
"Yeah.. it's me"
"Are you ok? What's wrong?" He asks. If only he knew.
"I um...." my eyes start welling up again. "I... I just wanted to say sorry again for bumping into you today". I stutter out, bailing out of asking for his company.
"You called me at 3:00am to say you're sorry?" He asks confused and oblivious. I don't know how to explain it but is accent is calming.
"No.. that's stupid, I uhh.. something happened today and I just needed someone to talk to". I say sniffling again.
"Oh Mal, are you ok? Want me to come over?" He asks and I feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders knowing that I didn't have to ask and say the words.
"Um no, I'm not ok. I would actually love it if you came over" I say, cringing at how desperate I sound. This isn't me, I don't do this.
"Oh of course, I'll be right there" he says and there is a little bit of rustle on his end of the phone. "What's your apartment number?" He asks.
"Apartment 17, floor 8" I answer quietly. Almost ashamed I'm asking for help.
"Ok I'll be there in 5 minutes. It's okay". He says.
After I hang up, I take a deep breath, knowing I just took a big step. Who even are you Mal?
I go to the living room and sit on the couch waiting for him to get here, second guessing myself as always.
I'm brought out of my thoughts when I hear a knock at the door.
Harry.
I go to the the door, opening it and seeing his same tall stature, messy curls, and slightly tanned skin. He's in a black t-shirt and grey sweat pants. I look to his arms where he is cradling a pint of ice cream and a box of tissues. He's so cute.
Snap out of it Mal.
"Uh hi" I say quietly, he gives me a light smile. "Hi" I hear his voice and right now everything seems echoey but for some reason his voice breaks through the space in my mind, hearing him clearly.
We stare at each other for a second, mostly because I'm exhausted from only getting 2 hours of sleep in the last 48 hours, and from the emotionally draining events of today.
I move to the side to let him in and lead him to the couch. "Your apartment's nice" he says to fill the silence. I can tell he's feeling awkward. We sit on the couch and I guess I have to be the first to say something but when I go to speak.. nothing comes out. The thought of uttering those words of Mr, Neal's death, brings it all back. I start crying without even realizing it. I'm sure I look like a mess, my hair all messy, still crusty mascara streaks on my cheeks, my face all red and puffy. It's not a good look.
