———Anthony———
Friday, May 3rd, 2019
I stepped out into the hazy May heat, the burn of the noon sun instantly palpable on my skin. I sighed, knowing I had escaped the icy, over-air-conditioned hell of my stat final only to jump straight into the fiery, humid hell that was summer weather in Savannah.
I fished my phone out of my backpack as I began trudging back to my dorm and turned it on, raising my eyebrows at the four missed calls from Darius. I hit redial without bothering to listen to any of his voicemails and shifted my bag back to the center of my back.
"Anthony, what the fuck? I called you four times," Darius' voice snapped before the first ring had even rung its course. My dark eyebrows leaped upwards in surprise and mild annoyance. Sweat had already started dripping down my face, my shoulder-length black hair doing me no favors for staying cool. I regretted not grabbing an extra hair tie before I left my dorm that morning and was not in a mood to deal with whatever kind of one Darius was in.
"So sorry to keep you waiting, Alpha, but I can't exactly have my phone on during a fucking final," I replied evenly. I stepped into the shade, thankful for the oak trees dripping with Spanish moss lining the sidewalk that provided a modicum of protection from the sun.
"Anthony—"
"What do you need, Darius?"
"Did you listen to my voicemails?" The frustration in Darius' voice had completely drained and was replaced by what sounded like apprehension and fatigue. I was slightly worried, both about what could be causing him to sound this way and what I had to do with it.
"Nope," I said flatly. Aside from the family group chat and the occasional meme sent via text, my siblings and I did not speak often, and never on the phone. I didn't do phone calls.
"Why the hell not?"
"I would have had to call you back anyway. Spit it out, Darius. What do you need from me?" I haphazardly tossed my student ID hanging from my lanyard towards the door scanner and stepped into my dorm building. My entire body relaxed with a silent sigh as the sharp blast of air conditioning hit me.
"Do you have any more finals left?" The question came out sounding controlled, paced... too careful to be innocent small talk. Not a good sign. I crossed the lobby and opened the door to the stairwell.
"No, this was my last one. Why?" I replied as I started my ascent up the stairs to the fifth floor, frowning at the way the sound of my steps and voice echoed in the lofty enclosed space.
"Just hear me out before you answer, Ant. Please," Darius said after a large inhale.
"Ok..." I huffed. As per my usual custom, I took the stairs two at a time, unwilling to stay in such an exposed yet claustrophobic place for longer than strictly necessary.
"You aren't going to like it, but I really need your support with this..."
"Will you fucking spit it out already?" I stopped at one of the landings and rested my hands on my knees. I was in shape, I kept up with a regular training schedule despite living off pack lands, but cardio had never been my forte.
"I need you to come back home," Darius said firmly with an attempt at authority that most people who had not lived with him for over a decade would have believed. I had, though.
"No." My reply was instantaneous and held much more certainty than his bluff had. I restarted up the stairs with renewed vigor as Darius immediately somehow both deflated and took off in a verbal interpretation of "desperate sprint to the last bus by a student who could not afford another absence."
YOU ARE READING
Lost in Translation
WerewolfBen is a 22-year-old with anxiety issues and no idea what he wants to do with his life. Anthony is a college junior who knows exactly what he wants: to socialize with as few people as possible for the rest of *his* life. Ben wasn't looking for a ma...