Hot Line | ✓

call #4

"hi," he says.

"9pm sharp. hello."

"i'm never late."

"that's a good habit to have. i'm always late."

"better three hours too soon than a minute too late."

"shakespeare? impressive."

he laughs. "i studied literature in college."

"tell me something literary."

he pauses. "everyone dies."

there's a long silence before she breaks out into a laughing fit. "not exactly the happy ending we like to hear, eh?"

"happy endings are overrated. there are no happy endings in life and there shouldn't be so many happy endings in literature."

"you are quite the pessimist, evan."

"i'm a realist."

"a real pessimist."

"you're telling me that you believe in all that fairy-tale-happy-ending-true-love bullshit?"

she pauses. "maybe not. but it doesn't hurt to hope it exists."

"it'll hurt when reality bites you in the ass."

there's a long silence followed by a sigh on her end. "why are you calling, evan?"

"i've told you a few times now. i need a friend."

"you don't sound like you want a friend."

"what makes you say that?"

"friends have fun with each other. they make each other feel happy. you act like you want to be sad."

"of course i don't want to be sad."

"then don't be."

"it's not that simple."

"she's just a girl, evan. you can't dwell on her. she's gone."

he hangs up the phone.