Bad Taste (Part II) // Colby Brock

232 - Rebecca

My phone was ringing, which would be fine if my boyfriend wasn't fast asleep on my chest and the rest of the house wasn't silent.

I, being the only person in this relationship who had a brain within a couple of seconds of waking up, reached over for my phone on the bedside table and clicked the off button twice, ending the call.

Colby's soft groans at the interruption turned into a sigh as he hugged me closer beneath him, and I momentarily brushed my fingers through his hair to ease him back into sleep. Even through the heavy filter of the curtains on the windows, I could tell it was daytime. He needed some more rest.

Just as I closed my eyes, however, my phone started ringing again.

I grabbed it, reading Angela's name on the ID. Okay, so it might be important if it was my sister, but that didn't mean she could call me in the middle of the day. She knew both Colby and I slept in the daytime—at least, we did when we were here—so this was just rude.

Answering the call as to stop disturbing Colby, I brought my phone to my ear.

"How dare you decline my call, Becca," Angela snapped through the speaker.

I sighed, "It's daytime, what did you expect?"

"For my sister, who disappeared without a word to me, by the way, to come and visit when she came back from her little spontaneous trip. You went to see Dad, why not me?"

There was something slightly vulnerable about Angela's voice that stripped me of any bad feelings I had. Clearly, there was something going on with her on top of the loss of our mother, so the least I could do was be a good sister. I was working on being a good human, after all.

"I'm sorry, Ang, I kinda thought you'd appreciate a call first. We didn't exactly end it on a good note," I said softly into the microphone. "Do you want me to come over?"

"A little," she admitted.

I pulled the phone from my ear to check the time—it was midday. "Do you mind waiting a couple of hours?"

"How long?"

"I'll come over for four," I suggested. "Let me get a little more sleep in."

She sighed, "Alright," and hung up before I had the chance to end the call properly.

Grateful for the silence returning to the room, I placed my phone—after creating an alarm—on the bedside table and carefully shuffled Colby. I shifted him so that he fell on his back, causing him to move into a comfortable position more on his side facing away. I grinned as I wrapped my arms around him from behind and snuggled in, eager to do something I hadn't been able to convince him to let me do for a while.

Asleep, he had no choice but to sigh in content. Because he liked this and I knew he did.

Angela had sent me an address for her apartment, which I found weird, because I found it difficult to forget a place and should have known where her place was. But then I realised she'd done it because no longer did she live in the gorgeous glass apartment she once had.

Now, she lived in a much smaller apartment with a wooden door and little security, nothing like the sort of place you'd expect someone with so much wealth to willingly live in. It was high—on the top floor—with only two other apartments alongside it. I presumed this was because these were the biggest ones, but by the size of the building, I knew they still couldn't be that big. Perhaps the size of the main room in Angela's old apartment at the most.

She opened the door about ten seconds after I knocked it, and both of us took a moment to take in the other.

I had the different hair, tied in a bun and red at the tips, whilst she looked far more comfortable than I'd ever seen her look in a while. Her hair was in a bun, too—a casual bun for her—while she wore a pair of tight-fitting leggings and an oversized t-shirt. Everything was light colours, nothing about her except the pupils of her saddened eyes dark.