Long Distance Call | tayley ✓

23 | Voicemails

[Hayley]

Lynn heads home once her high wears off. My high hadn't lasted as long as hers, but it was my first time even trying. She was shocked that it affected me in any way whatsoever. But that was what I was searching for, after all.

So by the time she's gone, it's late. I'm once again left on my own. Though the drug took my mind off everything for a little while, it's as if everything is hitting me all at once.

When I've drank alcohol, I've had times where I remember so little from the time where I'd been intoxicated. But I remember everything that had happen in the hour or so where I was under the influence. Even when I was speaking to Taylor.

Shit.

Instead of embracing the fact that Taylor does like me, I started talking about Josh. Someone he doesn't like. To make matters worse, I'm pretty sure I talked about liking Josh. That's good.

I need to talk to him, this is killing me inside.

But it's late. For him, at least. It's 10 here, which makes it 4 over there. Hell, maybe even later. Figuring that out requires basic math, something I'm no expert on.

Still, even though it is late there, and calling him may wake him, it's something I need to do.

I find his contact, choosing the call option. Holding the phone up, I hear ringing from the opposite end for a moment before receiving his voicemail.

"Yo, it's Taylor York here. You know the drill. Leave a message, no promises that I'll listen to it," the message speaks, the voice on the other end chuckling. Now, I hear a beep, indicating that all I say will be possibly heard by Taylor.

"Hey, um. I was about to say that it's been days since we last spoke, but that isn't true. Considering we had spoken earlier, even though I was a little out of it. But how are you? You're asleep, obviously. Or most likely, I guess. Maybe you are awake but saw I was calling and didn't want to answer. Whatever the case, I hope that you're doing good. I just need to talk to you. You make me feel happy. Shit, okay, I just...I need to tell you this. I know I maybe shouldn't say this, but fuck it. If you really just don't like it, whatever. Don't talk to me again, whatever. Anyway, now I'm getting off topic. I like you, alright? I really, really like you. I get that you're so far, so all of that wouldn't be as convenient as liked. Fuck, what am I talking about? Like you'd actually want to be with me. I wish that you were here. Well, I hope you're having sweet dreams, and you call me when you wake up. Or text me, or just anything to show me that you're not creeped out by what I've told you. And if you are, that's okay."

I realize, now, that I'm getting rather off topic. I'm probably nearing the limit for how long the call may be.

"Bye," I mumble, ending the call. Now I'm left to play the waiting game. What if he doesn't even listen to the voicemail I left? What if he listens to it and is weirded out by it like I previously worried about.

Maybe I'm overthinking it. But maybe I'm right.