THE SMITHS

Chapter Fourteen

Byron twirls his phone between his fingers, occasionally staring at the phone number that stares back at him on the screen. He was at his office, feet crossed over the other on the table as he contemplates dialing the number, Gina’s number. He finally makes a decision, abruptly tapping on it before he could chicken out and waits with bated breath.

The dial tone ends after the fourth ring. "Hello, Gina here," the voice seeps in from the other side and Byron feels a rush of excitement as he hurries to sit in a more proper position.

The ruffling from the other side confuses Gina and with a frown, she brings the phone away from her ear to look at the unknown number before repeating, "Hello, who is it?" Still no reply and just as she was about to drop the call in annoyance, the realization washes over her.

She sighs in resignation, "It's you isn't it? Byron?" He supresses a squeal of accomplishment at the sound of his name before clearing his throat, which did nothing to hide the crack in his next few words.

"H- how did you know it was me?" He speaks up finally, confirming her suspicions.

Gina shrugs, shoulders growing lax into her own chair, "Well I don't have a lot of people that could be calling from an unsaved number at the moment" she hears what could only be described as a sad excuse for a chuckle at her words and silence follows.

Byron clears his throat again, he curses at himself for the nth time that day because why in God's name was he finding it so hard to say something.

"So uh..... How's it going? How have you been?" He was being very careful with his words, speaking them as slowly as they came to him too, mostly because they weren't coming, but also because he didn't want to risk annoying her, but he seemed to have done just that, seeing as there was silence from the other side.

"Listen, I'm really sorry if I'm coming on too strong, I know I am. But, I'm not good at this and I swear to you that I really just can't help it. It's fine if you don't want to see me or are tired of this whole thing, but can you please not treat me like a nuisance? I mean, even if I am.... Can you just try and put up with me? I know this might sound dumb since we're not even that familiar with each other yet, but I missed you.... And since I can't see you, I guess I just wanted to hear you speak at least"

“Alright, I’ll meet you,” Gina startles when she hears a very loud ruckus from the other side of the phone. She brings it away from her ear again after a round of silence, trying another 'Hello?'

Byron mutters curse after curse as he held unto his no doubt bruised knee that he had bumped unto the table when he sprung out of his seat in both shock and excitement from the unexpected answer. "Yes, Hi. Sorry about that" he finally speaks up. "I'm sorry, thank you. H- how's tonight? Do you want to meet tonight?"

A corner of Gina's lips twitches at the obvious change of mood from the other side but she quickly replies with a "I'll text you the address" before dropping the call.

Byron drops his phone unto the table, paying no mind to the way it meets with the hard surface as he jumps around his office, alternating between punching the air and rubbing at his wounded knee.

.

Byron breathes out another puff of heavy breath, checking his hair on the dark screen of the phone for what felt like the nth time that day. Now sat in the not necessarily expensive restaurant that he found using the address Gina had texted about an hour after the call, Byron still couldn't shake away the way his stomach coiled in anxiety and disbelief at the fact that this was really happening.  He'd sprinted out of the office the second the text dropped, rushing home in the guise of finding something proper to wear but he just really needed to be alone in his room so no one could see how embarrassingly jittery he got at the thought of a date. Like a fucking highschooler. He settles for a simple look with a white t-shirt and his least ripped blue jeans at the last minute, finishing the look with a pair of sneakers and sunglasses that now sat on the simple looking table.