No More Lies, I Promise - The Watty Awards 2011

No More Lies, I Promise - Chapter 6

I dialed the home number. It went to answerphone. Smart kid.

"Hey, Finn? It's me, Amy, pick up the phone I need-"

"Amy?" Finn's voice sent relief through me.

"Hey, how are things?" I asked, making my voice as cheery as possible.

"Fine thanks. Hey, you've got loads of TV channels!" He laughed and I could hear it echo around my hall through the phone. It made me smile too. I had no choice in the matter.

"So... Everything is fine?" I feared the worst.

"Yeah, yeah, sure it is. No one's come to the door or anything. I haven't broken any vases or thrown any wild parties," I could hear the smile in his voice. "Oh, but someone rang earlier. But I didn't pick it up," he hurried on as I felt my stomach clench. After all, I'd never told him not to pick up the phone. But this boy had some common sense. I was glad. I wouldn't know how to explain that one to my mother.

"I should hope so too," I laughed.

"How many..." He trailed off, leaving his unfinished sentence hanging.

I swallowed, not letting the panic rise in my chest. "Finn?"

After a moment, his voice hissed through the phone. "There's someone unlocking the front door." His voice displayed his full scale panic.

My heart jumped furiously in my chest as I hissed rasionally, "Are you sure it's not the postman?"

"No, it's not," Finn squeaked as I heard the front door open.

"Hide!" I told him. A second later, the phone went dead, and the long, monotone sound was opposite to my irrational heart... I ended the call and pushed the phone back into my pocket as I did so.

I could already picture it. The front door would be open and I would poke my head in and call, gulping, "Hello?" I would walk through to the kitchen, and my mother would be sat there at the table with a stern face and on the other side would be a nervous boy in my jeans and t-shirt. His hands would knot together, then un-twine on the soft wooden table top. He would have beautiful, soul-wrenching blue eyes. Finn. My mother would speak: "You've got some explaining to do."

"Amy! Babe!" I jumped unconditionally at the girls voice. I sighed and rolled my eyes as their group came over. They were like a pack. Strong in numbers. Ferrocious. Unforgiving.

"What?" I asked, and they laughed.

"Keep away from Dylan. He doesn't need your influence."

I laughed, then laughed again, harder this time. It seemed so petty, all of this. After all the stress of that phone call.

I found myself saying, "My infuence?" in a sarcastic voice.

"Yeah," she laughed, ignoring my sarcasm. "Your silly little ways don't need to be inflicted on Dylan. He obviously doesn't like you," she leaned forwards, her minty breath washing over my face, "so back off," she hissed. She spun around, the end of her hair just catching my face, and her and her little group strutted back off to re-join her other friends. I rolled my eyes, and my telephone conversation echoed back through my head. Man, I am dead. But, I remided myself, she's probably already found Finn, and there's nothing I can do now anyway.

I gulped, and then walked to next lesson as the bell rang.