[COMPLETED] #1 on the Hot list in category Short Story.
"I have a problem.
The name Eva Hawkins has been running through my mind several times the past four weeks.
That's what usually happens when a boy starts developing feelings for a girl. I woul...
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"CAN I COME in?"
"Yeah," I mutter.
It's been two whole days since I gave the phone away to Adam. Hawkins barely replied when I was about to say bye. I think she's more worried than I am and she hides it so well.
Sally stands in the doorway, looking as charming as ever with her beyond pretty smile. I can't help but shoot her a grin myself when she starts to laugh.
"Stop," I chuckle. "I'm not supposed to be in the mood."
She comes in my room and closes the door. She walks emotionlessly to the middle of the room and I eye her suspiciously.
She turns around and clears her throat, fumbling with her hands. So suddenly, the comfortable tension was replaced by a troubled one.
"Your uncle is angry." She eyes me warily. "It's about the girl's phone."
I roll my eyes. I knew this was about to come. "I know."
"You've been going out a lot lately," she says as she sits down next to me. "Have you been seeing her?"
My heart warms at the mention of Hawkins. "Yeah," I dumbly smile. I have been seeing her, but not exactly the way you think I have.
Sally smiles again and rubs my back. "Is her phone still with you?"
"No. I told her everything already, and we helped each other a lot. She's great, Sally. She gets me, somehow." I nod my head and my curls bounce on my forehead.
"You're blushing." Sally gapes at me with a playful look on her face. "You like her. That's a first. I wish we could meet her."
"Yeah." My smile vanishes. "I wish she could meet me, too."
Sally sighs a deep, exhausted one. She mumbles something under her breath and buries her face in her hands. "I can't believe Adam. I'm sick of him treating you this way."
My heart skips a beat when I hear her cry. "Sal," I widen my eyes and grab her shoulder, wanting her to answer me.
Sally doesn't cry often. This isn't good. And there is only one person to blame.
I walk towards my drawer and grab a tissue, handing it to her. She sniffs and looks down at her feet. "When is this going to end?" she cries and buries her head in her wet hands.
