The Messy Months [EDITING]

November - 5

They didn't text, call or even communicate again until day twenty three of Tarcy. Every second, minute, hour and day that went by, Marcy had to remind herself that this was normal. Couples went through phases like this all the time. They were both busy. They could cope. They could deal.

Marcy had a hard time coping.

When she got the call she was a little in shock. Her phone had started ringing, and she snatched it up before she could even read the caller id. She assumed it would be Trym, calling her to say, "Hey, I've missed you, let's hang out." Or something ten million times more romantic.

But when she picked up, it wasn't Trym. It was Bailey.

She had to hold the phone away from her ear in order to keep from deafening herself. Music and what Marcy hoped was screamed lyrics leaked through her phone's speakers. Bailey's voice barely made it through.

"HEY MARCY! IT'S ME! BAILEY!"

Marcy sighed, leaning back into her spot on the couch. Of course it wasn't Trym. Of course of course of course. "Hey Bails. What's up?"

"NOT MUCH. I'M WONDERFUL."

Marcy couldn't help but laugh. "I couldn't tell."

"YEAHHH!"

Marcy shook her head, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "Not to be rude, but why are you calling me?"

"OH! UH... I..." The bass of the music in the background started to get louder and louder, drowning out everything else. Marcy pressed her hand to her other ear, trying to focus on Bailey's words.

"Yeah?"

"I FORGET."

"Okay, Bails. I'm gonna go then."

"WAIT!"

Marcy clicked the phone off, letting out a puff of air. Now she had to decide what to eat for dinner. Fried rice again? Her phone rang and this time Marcy's looked at the caller id. It was Bailey. She debated on whether or not to give her friend a second chance. But if she was calling, she must've had something important to say. Marcy answered.

"Hello?"

The background was quieter now but not quite gone. Marcy's could hear her friend's heavy breathing. "I'm in a closet. I need to tell you something."

"Okay."

"Trym is here."

"What? But I thought he was up in—"

"He's here Marcy. I swear. And he's with that girl. That one you described to me."

"The girl with the pink streaks in her hair?"

"Yup. That's the one."

Marcy swallowed, closing her eyes. She gathered all her courage and hope. "W-what were they doing?"

"What else do you think they were doing, Marcy? They were all feely feely and—" Something moaned in the background. "Whoa. Sorry there. My bad." There was a crash and the blasting music came back. It wasn't as strong as it had been, but it still drowned out Bailey's voice.

"Bailey," Marcy tried to yell over the thumping beat, "Where are you?"

"I'm—" The phone call cut off and Marcy was left in a despairing panic. She redialed Bailey's number over and over, only to be told there was no signal. She decided she had to wait, hoping Bailey would be smart enough to leave the party and call her back.

When Marcy awoke the next morning—she was quite thankful she fell asleep—Bailey still hadn't come home. But there was a message from her on Marcy's phone.

"I'm alright," she'd croaked. "Everything's alright. Unless I didn't tell you that emergency thing I called to tell you about..." Marcy cringed, pulling the phone away from her ear as her friend gagged and vomited. Bailey sniffed. "Ugh. I'm wrecked. I'll call you later or something, when my hangover leaves." Then the message ended.

Marcy sat there on the couch, staring at her phone. It flashed, telling her it was low on battery. Marcy didn't know what to do. She was lost. Oh so lost. Her friend wasn't answering the phone, her boyfriend might be cheating on her and lying to her. No wonder he didn't want to kiss her.

Marcy knew it was cold and irrational, but she was finally seeing it Bailey's way. Trym hadn't called her in days. He barely reached out to her before that as well. He was gone. They were done. They'd jumped into something neither of them were ready for.

Marcy used the last bit of power left on her phone to send one last message, watching the device die in her hands as she began to cry. Her last two words to him were nothing special. They weren't even memorable. They were simple and straight to the point.

We're done.