Saving Grace

Chapter Seven. // Deeper Over the Phone.

Chapter Seven. // Deeper Over the Phone.

Something about tonight got to me, something about the fact that Noah didn't even try to fight with me over Alex really got to me. Which I know isn't fair, because I'm the one who's been shooting him down every time he tried to talk. After spending the day with Amanda, not mentioning Noah to her, I found myself pacing my room at ten o'clock that night. With a pounding headache and a rapid heartbeat, all I could think about was hearing his voice. My mind was everywhere, thoughts bouncing off the inside of my skull. I could feel my anxiety just getting worse by the second.

I knot my fingers through my hair, tugging on it as I try to calm myself down. I was fine when I was with Amanda but now that I'm alone and considering calling Noah, I can just feel myself slowly going insane. I look at my phone, sitting patiently on my night stand. I wish it would go off, Amanda wanting to tell me about her last hook up or Alex trying to booty call me again. Christ, I would fucking sleep with Alex if it meant getting Noah out of my head. I would do anything, anything at all to stop feeling this way.

I'm over him. I've been over him forever, so why is he still effecting me like this? Why do I let him still effect me like this? I need to get my mind off this. I need to do something that takes up a lot of mental capacity and focus. But I can't go near my phone. I can't touch it or look at it because I know I'll do something really fucking stupid if I do.

That's when I spot my school bag, sitting peacefully on my old wooden desk in the corner of my small room. I sigh in relief when I remember I have a shit ton of homework to do. Walking over to my bag, I lay out all my homework on the desk, organizing it from least important to most important. I start by writing my essay that's due tomorrow. I'm almost done with it, I have a few more body paragraphs to write for the muscle fraction of it and then all I'll have to do is edit it. Tomorrow, I'll go to the library and type it out and print it so I can hand it into my professor on Thursday.

I open my Human Anatomy book and start working on finding the information I need. Flipping through multiple print outs and photocopies and rewording and sighting them all. Once that portion of my essay is done, I began checking the sources and editing grammatical errors. By the time I'm done, it's been a whole thirty minutes.

I managed to stall for that long but I can still feel my mind tugging towards Noah. Towards calling him.

I stand up, regretting it already and walking over to my night stand. I stare down at the small, black rectangle. My phone is terribly outdated and has scratches and dents all over it. I dropped it in a bowl cereal once and it's still going strong.

I'd take my cheap track phone over someone's hardly durable iPhone any day of the week.

Groaning, I grab my phone, quickly opening it and scrolling through the contacts. When I got this phone six months ago at a used phone store, I transferred all the contacts to it from my old phone. I don't know why I never deleted Noah's number off my old phone, let alone transfer over to my new-to-me one. I guess I still hoped that one day, I'd see his name flash over the screen with that familiar contact picture of him sticking his tongue out at the camera. I took the photo after I went to church with him the first time. I don't know why I remember that. Now that I think about it, I can recall almost all my memories of Noah and I and yet. I forget what I had for dinner last night or if I even did have it or not.

Without a second thought, I find his name and click the green call button, pressing my phone to my ear. I close my eyes, biting my lip as I try not to think about it. I don't know why I'm doing this or what I'll say if he picks up. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. I start to panic.