PHONE SWAP | drew starkey

22: BETWEEN THE LINES

Virgin Mary | 3:47am
what are the odds on this being a big mistake

Me | 8:02am
0:1000000000
Me | 8:02am
stop freaking out, you'll be fine

Virgin Mary | 8:30am
Addie
Virgin Mary | 8:30am
i am going to Tom's
Virgin Mary | 8:31am
for all of the fucking holidays 😩

Me | 8:35am
Marianne

Me | 8:36ammy beloved
Me | 8:36amyou said you wanted this, you said that this is the best for your relationship, you said that this was the right thing to do
Me | 8:36amand Tom said he wants to take this step
Me | 8:37amyou're just scared bc it's a big deal

Virgin Mary | 8:38am
AND WHAT ABOUT IT 😡

Me | 8:40am
it's okay to be scared

Me | 8:40ambut you'll be fine ❤
Me | 8:40amlet me know when you land

Virgin Mary | 8:42am
supportive bitch
Virgin Mary | 8:42am
❤

—

It's evening time at the Weatherby-Mallory residence, and there are nearly half a dozen's worth of cups scattered over the living room. Some are on the TV stand, next to a framed photo of the roommates and their friend group that Wes got Marianne for her birthday; some are next to the wall, far enough to avoid potential spills; and some are on the coffee table, nearly hidden between pages and pages of files, all compiled into little folders with corners sticking out.

  It would be an ordinary evening for Addie, except this tends to be the setting of her bedroom, not the living room. With Marianne gone for the next few weeks, though, Addie's life has already consumed even the shared areas of the flat, and Addie finds herself to be a bit spoiled by the newfound commodity – she doesn't see how that tiny space was ever enough for this much work. Although, now there are Holden's files, folded away between and over and under her own, so she may be overestimating it a little.

  Her phone dings, somewhere in the pile. She drops down from the couch, a little ungracefully – her foot gets stuck in the pillow and she nearly kicks Holden's shin tugging it out. He chuckles and she groans, and then she's rummaging through the files until she finds the phone, its screen still lit from Marianne's text.

  'They landed!'

  'Oh, good,' says Holden.

  'Mhm. I'll tell her you say hi.'

  Addie's fingers are fast at typing, even though she needs to fix a typo here and there. She asks Marianne how the flight was – it's always a necessary question, seeing as Marianne likes flights just about as much as Addie likes clowns. Maybe even less. The one time they'd flown together to Boston, Marianne had a full-blown panic attack during one of the turbulences and Addie spent the rest of the flight trying to calm her down.

  But it's good, she tells herself. She had Tom with her.

  (Or that's why it wouldn't be good, her thoughts say, and she shoves them away.)

  'You look worried.'

  Addie huffs. 'I'm not.'

  'You sure?'

  She glances at her phone once more before putting it down, on yet another pile of papers still needing to be looked at. She gets back up on the couch, draws the fuzzy scarlet blanket back over herself, then pulls her knees close to her chest; Holden's eyes don't leave hers.