Overcast | ✓

Room 304

The phone is ringing in the dining room, and I am sitting in silent protest of its invention. Phones are almost entirely useless to me because I avoid talking when I can, but if you don't talk when you raise a phone to your ear, nothing happens. I only use smartphones for social media and the internet. The Instagram icon is almost like my friend. Sometimes, I wonder if I should just delete the app altogether and free up time, but I never do. I think without it, I might feel completely alone.

Elio is beside me, hearing the same ringing, and sitting in objection as well. Not because he doesn't enjoy speaking, but because he prefers not to leave the cocoon of blankets swarmed around him. We allow the phone to cry out for a few more seconds.

From the kitchen, my mother's voice booms. "For Christ's sake. Can one of you get the phone?"

Elio meets my eyes from behind the covers and immediately smiles.

"Not it," he calls.

"You cannot be serious," I say. "No. There's no way that-"

"One of you! Now," yells my mom, and I let out a reluctant groan before leaving the couch.

"Hello," I say as I pick up the phone, purposely monotone.

"Sunny!" cries out a voice from the other end. "It's Maeve. Why are you answering the phone? You never answer the phone."

"Its against my will," I say, peering at my younger brother who sticks his tongue out in reply. "And anyway, why are you calling my home phone?"

"Okay, so, funny story-" I roll my eyes at this knowingly. There have been hundreds of conversations that Maeve has begun by saying it is a funny story and, more often than not, it isn't. "-So, I got grounded. Again. And I'm currently calling you from an old flip phone. This was one of the only three numbers on this thing."

"Ah," I say with a smile, remembering how we would call in elementary school just like this. I would sit at my dining room table with the phone pressed to my ear and Maeve and I would speak for hours. Our issues were small then. We would talk about TV shows or video games. There was simply nothing else to occupy our tiny minds. "Why are you grounded?"

"I was just about to tell you!" I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't.

"Okay," I say, finally, and I hear as she takes a breath from the other end.

"So, I snuck out last weekend to see Noah." I click my tongue and lean against the wall, phone wire looped around my finger. Noah is Maeve's on again, off again, almost, boyfriend. They have been almost dating for almost 3 months now. I wonder what I should get them to celebrate their almost anniversary. "And everything went fine, actually. My mom didn't catch me. But, today, my sister let it slip that she saw me climbing out of my window and now, I'm grounded. Isn't that just ridiculous?"

"Yeah. Ridiculous," I reply. There is nothing I want more than to slam the phone back into its holder on the wall and join Elio on the couch, but I remind myself softly that Maeve is my only nonrelative friend. Beside that, she is a good friend. I cannot, in good conscience, repay her tolerance with passivity.

Still, as Maeve speaks, I do not actually listen. I insert a small "yeah" or "oh my god" or "wow" wherever I see fitting and allow her words to fade into static around me. Sometimes, I wonder how it would feel to wake up in Maeve's body. To live in a saturated world of boys and school and parties. To peer into her brain and see why on earth someone like Maeve Carney would want to be friends with someone like me. I am not at all impressive or worthwhile whatsoever. Maeve has more friends now than I have had my entire life. She is bright and funny and compelling to be around and yet, I am her best friend. Maeve has clung to me since grade school, never once disapproving of my negativity. I don't think I deserve her at all.