v. bells - 12/21
I can’t stop smiling. I know people say that all the time, but I mean it. There’s this big goofy grin stretched across my face, and Valentina is giving me a funny look across the room and people on the street were leaning away from me, but I don’t care because I’m so happy.
And it’s all your fault.
I went Christmas shopping today, which was very hectic and stressful and there were too many people and you know how I feel about people, Sam, and I—anyway, I was in line at Macy’s getting a scarf for my sister when my cellphone started ringing (with that ringtone I recorded of us singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, do you remember that?) and it was my mom. She didn’t seem to notice that I was practically yelling over the sound of Christmas music and conversation, and even though I was kind of flustered I wasn’t about to hang up her because well, she’s my mom.
The line was very long, which allowed for plenty of talking, and we went through the usual topics. My classes, my friends, how bad is the snow and did you get a Christmas card from Aunt Eliza? And then, when the conversation petered down to silence (or at least, as silent as it could be when I was in the middle of a busy department store), I asked about you.
“Oh, Sam,” Mom said. “He’s...he’s good, of course. As usual.”
Now see, with my mom, it’s very obvious to tell when she’s hiding something. Usually it’s something visible in her face, etched into her green eyes, but her voice changes too. And she was hiding something right then; I could tell, and I worried instantly.
“What’s wrong?” I hissed frantically, inching forward in line. “Is Sam okay?”
There was silence for a very long moment, during which my heartbeat felt as if it would shatter my ribcage. Then a rustling, a few whispered words, and the clearing of a throat.
And then: “Ellery?” you said.
I nearly dropped my phone at the sound of your voice. That was all I could do; I was too surprised to speak. It had been nearly a month since we’d last spoken over the phone—between finals and work and social lives, and oh, of course, distance, there hadn’t been time. I’d forgotten how amazing it feels to hear you laugh.
“I miss you so much,” you told me, after I had managed a hello, and it was different from the way that other people say “I miss you” because your voice went softer and a little wobbly and it hurt so much but at the same time it was wonderful, because it meant that you really did care that I was gone.
“I miss you, too,” I breathed.
I held up the line for nearly a minute because I couldn’t hear them calling me; I ran into an old woman in the doorway because I was dizzy with excitement; I tripped and knocked over a row of children because I was laughing so hard at a stupid joke you made. Then, when we finally hung up, I got this smile on my face that I just can’t seem to shake.
Hearing your voice was the highlight of my day, even though now, sitting here and watching Valentina dye the undersides of her hair bright pink, I’m realizing how far away you really are. You’re not here, and you haven’t been for far too long, and when I said I miss you I hope you know I meant it.
Anyway. I made a complete fool of myself today, which to be fair isn’t much different from any other day, but this time it was your fault. I forgive you, though. Because even though I’ve never been all that great at forgiveness, I guess I can make an exception for you.
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dedicated to the lovely jasmine because she's wonderful and her screaming comments LOL i love them. p.s. i apologize for breaking them up but look they spoke on the phone
