The Accident Called Love [HIATUS]

II. A Wake-Up Call

I wake up to the monotonous beep that plays from my phone. It’s not my alarm; my alarm is a recording of me screaming two words repetitively: “Get up, get up, get up!” Looking at the screen, I realize that I don’t recognize the number. I answer after a yawn and a slow, sleepy stretch.

“Hello?” I’m still lying down on my bed. “Who is this?”

“Oh, my, mi amor,” a guy speaks from the other line. He puts extra emphasis on the Spanish, and immediately I recognize him as Jayce. “I simply can’t believe you’ve forgotten me! Sweetie, I thought you were in love with me!”

He’s teasing me. My face burns for some reason, and I’m so glad that he’s not here to see it. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to say.

“What… How’d you get my number, Jayce?” I ask as soon as I get back into focus. “Not that I’m not totally flattered, of course, I’m just curious.” And annoyed that you woke me up an hour too early.

“Eliza,” Jayce replies. Wow, of course. Eliza’s obviously willing to do anything to get her revenge plan to work. She’s a manipulative wolf in sheep’s clothing! I groan as I start pulling a stand of my hair, but I manage to stop myself. It’s a bad habit, and it supposedly messes with your hair quality. My hair’s never been the prettiest or the silkiest, but it’s never been outrageously bad – and I’m planning on keeping it that way.

Wait. A. Minute. Wasn’t Eliza, like, dumped by this guy? On amusingly terrible terms, too. She’s supposed to be too pissed to talk to him, and he’s supposed to be too cheeky and guilty to talk to her. That is, if he even feels guilt. So why would he have asked her, of all people, for my number? It’s not like Eliza’s my only friend.

Jayce and I hang out with the same crowd, except for the fact that the entire group’s rarely together because of the tension between us. He’s more than free to have talked to any of my other friends, most of whom have my number on speed dial.

“Eliza told you?” I try not to sound like I’m accusing him, but I’m too suspicious to actually brace myself and act. I add nervously, “I just, um, never knew she had my number.”

Shoot. That was probably the worst excuse I could have come up with, but words are always irrevocable. I hear a smirk on the other end, followed by a sigh.

“Oh, well she did. She has for a long time, now. Are you sure that’s the reason you’re asking? I’ve seen her texting you multiple times.” he asks, his interests obviously piqued. I raise my eyebrow, confused that he hasn’t mentioned their bad breakup. I suppose he just doesn’t feel like bringing it up, but still.

“So, Clara,” he speaks again. His voice is like lightning, zapping me out of my train of thought. “Come out of your house. I’m waiting.” How does he know where I live? A shiver runs down my spine. Stalker much? And why does he want to see me this early anyway?

“How do you know where I live?” I ask, my voice shaking.

What’s weirdest is that he’s being as nice to me as he is to the other kids. I mean, he’s not being super-duper nice to me, but he’s not acting like a pig. Ever since we got on different paths and started, well, loathing each other, he has acted like I was scum. Why’s he different now?

It’s almost like the fake confession has shifted him by a few degrees, and I can’t help but be kind of impressed. Guilty, too, since I know that he’s going to start being rude again as soon as the month ends.

“Clara, we’re neighbors,” Jayce says, obviously exasperated. Right. “So are you coming out or not?”

Blushing at my own stupidity, I tell him to wait while I get ready. However, he tells me that it’s okay to come out in my pajamas, as long as he gets to see me. I bite my lips again to think, and decide that he’s probably ad-libbing.