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chapter forty-six

The first time I look up, is when I hear my phone ringing at the other side of the room.

I feel like my head had been lowered for a week. Mostly because that's just how I felt – down. Then my head had been lowered because I tried to do work, or well, more tried to distract myself. Since yesterday my head is lowered because I am trying to avoid the looks and questions from others, which would appear if my face would be seen.

My neck feels stiff, no, actually my whole body feels stiff. But then it feels so completely stiff that stiff is the new normal. So, I guess just something to get used to. Because I don't know when it will fade away again. But it should, right?

I mean, it's been a week. Exactly one week now. Sunday.

It should have been better by now. A week is long. It's seven days. One-hundred-sixty-eight hours. A little bit over ten-thousand minutes or something.

Ten thousand is a big number. A number of minutes after which I should feel better.

A number of minutes after which my neck shouldn't hurt as I lift up my head the first time since then really.

I stare at my phone, just ringing over there at my desk while I'm standing right beside my bed, a sweater in my hand.

I don't even remember turning on the sounds. My phone had been silent since what feels like eternity. The calls I would have gotten had been blocked and the messages I actually received have mostly not been read, but most of all they weren't audible. Because I didn't want them to be.

But this time I hear the ringing. It's not an alarm or something like that. It could have been, given that I feel like I've been doing stuff I don't seem to remember minutes after, so setting an alarm and forgetting it should not be that surprising for me anymore. But it's not an alarm. It's a call. Because it has a different type of ringing.

And this is the ringing. I'm getting a call.

My phone keeps ringing whilst I stare at it. And it doesn't stop.

I debate whether to go pick it up or not.

Because I know. I know who will be on the other side of the line.

Because maybe he gave me enough space.

I still haven't unblocked Clay, but I guess it's not really hard to reach me any other way. And he didn't do that for a week – he didn't try to contact me in any other way this whole last week, because he knew that I wouldn't want him to.

And I still don't want him to.

But maybe it's time – because I guess, I owe him. And it doesn't really matter anymore now, right?

I don't know for how long my phone had been ringing, but I think it also won't stop that soon. I toss the sweater on my bed and then walk over to the table where my phone sits, still ringing and ringing and... I don't recognize the number. I figured so. But that doesn't mean that I don't know it's him.

For a second, I just stare again, but then my hand slowly grabs the phone, fingers twitching. My body starts to feel tense, and my throat suddenly feels completely dry as I stare at that number on my screen. But I have to answer. I owe him. And it's going to be over soon anyway...

I accept the call, then bring the phone up to my ear. My other hand is grabbing down on the chair, trying to hold myself steady.

I prepare for his voice.

But I guess I wasn't prepared enough.

I thought that hearing my name from George yesterday had already been hard enough, but now hearing it from Clay...