𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

Four

I don't usually sleep for longer than five hours, but i end up being knocked out for eleven.

I wake up in a starfish position, the covers tangled at my feet. I stare up at my white popcorn ceiling until
I start to feel dizzy.

Remembering last night—and how unhappy my parents will be once they find out I haven't done any of the chores from this morning when they wake up—I slowly sit up and rub my eyes. I reach for my nose and feel the bruising along with the searing pain that rushes through my body when I even tap it lightly.

A deep sigh sounds throughout my body as I get out of my bed and stretch. My phone buzzes and I check to see an unknown number calling.

I consider blocking it but maybe it's Zelaya on her parent's phone.

I answer and hold the phone up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Amie?" A familiar voice fills my the other line.

"Yeah," I drag this word out.

Loud voices come from their side of the line before I get a reply. "I'm Freddy Majus—Zelaya's friend." More loud noises. The line crackles and I hear robot-like laughter. It's Brunette Guy. "I was wondering if you wanted to go—"

The line cuts.

I thank whoever caused his awful reception and put my phone down on my bed to go change. While rummaging through my drawers and pulling out a decent enough outfit—a black shirt and shorts—I hear my phone again.

I repress a groan and stomp over to my phone and pick it up, not bothering to check the number.

"Look, Fred—you seem really cool and all, but it really isn't worth it. Do you want to be with a girl who still has a curfew at 8 at the age of 15? Or is forced to have a constricted Netflix account? A girl who can't even keep the money she raises because her parents are forcing her to apply to colleges halfway across the world so they don't have to see her? Or—"

"I'm not Fred," a rough, accented voice carries laughter through the phone.

I contemplate throwing my phone out of the window and telling Zelaya I'm not picking up because I moved to Greece.

"I'm so sorry," I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I thought you were this guy that keeps calling me."

"Don't worry, it happens a lot." I can tell from his tone that it in fact does not happen a lot. "I'm Adam, my friend told me she met you yesterday at your school."

I take in his accent. He has to be from England or something.

"Rox?" I guess.

"Yes, that's the one. She asked me to call you to warn you about the deadline for the offer in some type of letter—I tried to ask and she completely cut me off so I'm not even sure why I'm doing this favor for her. I guess I'm just a fantastic friend and person in general."

"Right," I deadpan. "And I already know about that, I just haven't gotten around to the decision yet." I stare at the drawer I stuffed the letter in. If I hadn't fallen asleep maybe I'd be on a plane to Lille by now.

If this is even real.

"Got it," He sighs. "I guess that's it then. Make sure to get back to her, or me, as soon as possible—even if the answer is no."

"Wait—how did you get my number?"

He laughs before the line abruptly cuts. I take the phone away from my ear and stare at it.

"Dramatic ass," I mutter.

-

Thankfully I finsihed all of my chores by the time my parents woke up at 10:48am. They order me to start packing and don't mention last night's dinner fiasco.