Senior year was meant to be easy for France Santos. It means finishing off his high school career with his best friends since childhood. The goal was to enjoy a well deserved senior year, and to not think about the past.
Unfortunately France Santos...
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"I think I'd like a little company."
***
When Francesca's name appear on my phone, I immediately answered it.
"Hello?" I answered, biting my lower lip to restrain any smile that made me feel like an idiot.
"Hey France. Sorry for calling so late." Her voice was low.
"Give me a second." I stepped quickly towards the living room, where I saw Lola sitting on the couch. I could only make out the back of her head, which at least to me appeared to be she was engrossed in whatever Asian drama show she was watching.
I quickly slipped down the hall towards my room, closing the door behind me as quietly as I can. Lola can be nosy sometimes so it was best to keep her far away from this.
"I'm back," I said into the phone. "I didn't want to mention a girl in front of Lola this late at night."
If it wasn't for the faint background noises I heard in the phone, I would've assumed that the call ended.
"Lola? Who is Lola?" she finally asked, her tone changing to curiosity.
I blinked. For a moment, it sounded like she was jealous.
But that was probably in my head.
"Lola is what I call my grandmother," I answered, sitting on the my worn out bed.
"Oh okay," she responded, her voice getting slightly louder. I suddenly heard a dog barking, followed by her shushing.
"I don't need to ask what you are up to. It's clear you have Satan over," I said, referring to her demon dog who bit me.
She gasped loudly. "Don't say that about my sweet dog," she insisted, her voice warming at the mention of him. "I was watching something and he came over to sit next to me. He's the cutest thing."
I snorted. "Debatable."
"What is can be cuter than my dog then?" she asked.
"Me for one."
My smile dropped.
Why the hell did I say that?
Dumbass, France. Literal dumbass.
My cheeks instantly warmed when I said it. My mind was trying to figure out what came over me to even say that. She remained silent on the other side. I felt my phone beeped from a new message.
I pulled my phone away from my ear to open the message and see a selfie Francesca took with her dog.
"You're telling me you can beat my Bruno?" I barely heard her ask.
Her dog was stretched out on her bed, burying his most of his face under her duvet. I was more interested in the person in the photo. I zoomed on the side, studying her hair tied back into a messy bun. She was holding up a peace sign with a relaxed smile.
