The Cards We Are Dealt (Scarlett Johansson Fanfic)

Chapter 7: Phone Stealer

Tinsley carefully settled onto her couch, ice pack in hand, and propped her left foot up on the coffee table. Leaning forward, she tugged up her pant leg to inspect her ankle. There seemed to be no swelling–a great sign. She rolled her ankle around slowly in a circular motion. The feeling of stretching wasn't painful, more just a tight, uncomfortable sensation. With a small sigh of relief, she placed the ice pack on her ankle and leaned back.

She retrieved her phone from her pocket, which unlocked to the screen she last had opened–her messages with Scarlett. Or message, singular, she should say, since Scarlett had never responded to her message. Tinsley sat her phone in her lap and stared at the bright screen.

Today 12:53 PM

Tinsley

Hey stranger. Thanks for rescuing me twice now :)

Read 12:56 PM

Scarlett had read the message just three minutes after she'd sent it. But there was no response. No acknowledgement. Not even a liked message. The lack of reply gnawed at her, driving her to overanalyze. Why hadn't Scarlett responded?

Now it was 5:39 PM. Was that considered "later"? She chewed on her lower lip, debating whether or not to send another message. No. She could be patient. She had to be patient, even if she didn't want to be. With a heavy sigh, she locked her screen and tossed her phone onto the cushion beside her.

She reached for the TV remote and clicked the Netflix button. Her ankle was starting to go numb from the coldness of the ice pack and it was making the rest of her body freezing. As her Netflix profile loaded, she grabbed the blanket from behind her and draped it over her lap. Tinsley saw the TV screen change in her peripheral vision, looked up, and was stunned by the movie that popped up on the home screen: Lucy. The very one in which Scarlett Johansson just so happens to play the main character. Was the world playing some sick joke on her?

"Very funny universe," Tinsley muttered aloud, rolling her eyes at the screen. "Ha. Ha. Soooooo funny."

The couch cushion vibrated beneath her, and her sarcastic expression immediately dropped. Her neck snapped toward the sound, her heart leaping. A text message notification lit up her phone screen. She wasn't sure if she was still hoping it was Scarlett. Scarlett was so famous, so beautiful, funny, and rich—everything Tinsley knew she was not.

Snatching up her phone, her face fell as she unlocked it. All her excitement evaporated. It was just Alana, asking her to come unlock the front door. Alana had her own set of keys, so why did she need Tinsley for this?

With an annoyed grunt, Tinsley rose from the couch, limping slightly as she made her way to the door. She yanked it open with more force than necessary, revealing Alana standing there with her usual smug expression.

Alana tilted her head, eyebrow curved as she studied Tinsley's demeanor. "Why do you look like someone just told you you weren't getting the puppy you wanted for Christmas?"

Tinsley scowled. "No one said anything about a puppy." She opened the door wider, stepping aside as Alana snickered and breezed past her, dropping her bag on the bench. No keys in sight.

"Okay, well then, who pissed in your cereal?" Alana shot back, clearly enjoying Tinsley's sour mood.

Tinsley closed the door and locked it, then turned toward Alana, her face twisting in disgust as the disturbing imagery of Alana's words involuntarily played in her head. She shuddered, pushing the gross thought away.

"Rained on your parade? Shit in your hat? Put your panties in a twist?" Alana rattled off with a grin, then threw her hands up. "Okay, I ran out of sayings."

Rolling her eyes, Tinsley followed Alana into their living room. Alana flopped down on the couch, looking up expectantly. "So, what gives, Tinsley? Don't even try lying to me."

Lying to Alana was borderline impossible. Tinsley rarely got away with it. Not that she's a bad liar; Alana just saw right through her every time she tried to lie. Tinsley let out a loud, defeated sigh and crossed her arms, "You remember how I was supposed to go to the gym earlier?"

Alana nodded and patted the cushion next to her, gesturing for Tinsley to sit and continue. Tinsley settled down criss-cross applesauce on the couch and faced Alana, who angled her body to focus entirely on her.

She relayed the entire story–her two unexpected run-ins with Scarlett– and Alana hung on to every word that left Tinsley's mouth, her eyes widening with each detail. When she finally finished, after answering all of Alana's interrupting questions, Alana's jaw was practically on the floor. Silence followed as they both sat, the weight of Tinsley's story sinking in. Then, Tinsley's phone buzzed, shattering the quiet. They both flinched at the sound and watched the text message notification pop up on the screen. Exchanging the quickest look, they both shot their arms out in a race to grab Tinsley's phone.

Alana got to it first, snatching it up with a victorious laugh. "Oh, let's see who it is!" she teased, bolting away from the couch as Tinsley scrambled after her.

Alana's face was programmed into Tinsley's phone so she knew Alana could see who the message was from. Despite her efforts to wrestle it out of Alana's grasp, the four inches of height Alana had on Tinsley as well as her uninjured status proved to be quite the advantage.

They ended up in the dining room, the table creating an unfortunate barrier between them. Tinsley on one side, Alana on the opposite. It felt decidedly unfair.

Tinsley glared across at Alana, out of breath. "Who is it from?"

Alana's smirk widened as she wiggled her eyebrows. "Oh, you'll never guess," she teased. "I'll give you a hint, though. She's about 5'3", smoking hot, and her name starts with an S. Oh, and she's demanding to know if you're icing your ankle and resting because apparently, she's coming over to make sure."

Alana's fingers started typing and Tinsley knew it wouldn't be good. She quickly jumped into action with a yelp, circling around the table. "No! No, no, no, give it back!"

It was embarrassing how easily Alana dodged her.

"URGGHHH ALANAAAAA! GIVE ME MY PHONE BACK!" Tinsley shouted, limping after her as Alana sprinted back into the living room, phone still in hand. 

AUTHORS NOTE:

HEY GUYS! I HOPE EVERYONE IS DOING WELL AND LIKING HOW I'M REWRITING THIS STORY! DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT! LOVE - A