BLACKMAIL | MATT CHAMPION

MISSED CALLS

i wake up to birds chirping outside, and having the urge to talk to, matt. i tried to get him to open his window last night, but he wouldn't.

i rub my eyes, and grab my phone from my nightstand. i unlock it, and still see that missed call from wesley last night.

i hesitate to call him, but i do it anyway. i click on his contact and call him, putting my phone to my ear. each time it rings, my stomach twists up and i get even more nervous.

the ringing suddenly stops, "hey, everlee." wesley says, he sounds like he just woke up.

"hey, sorry i didn't answer your call last night. i was busy." i giggle nervously.

"busy with, matt?" he asks.

"what? no, what makes you say that?" i lie.

"a lot of things. i called, because i wanted to talk about him."

"what about him?" my eyebrows furrow. what does he possibly want to talk about him for?

"are you sure you both are just friends?" wesley questions, "it looks like you both are really into each other."

"there's nothing going on between us," i start to panic, and i struggle to not show it, "only friends."

"then why the hell does he always interrupt us when we're together? like at the carnival," he groans, "god, don't even get me started on the auction."

he sounds pretty mad. "listen, there isn't anything going on." i try to convince him.

"but it looks like he likes you, and you like him," he takes in a deep breath, "and if it's going to be that way, then i should just leave."

"there isn't a reason to leave if there's nothing going on between him and i," i pause, "let's hang out tomorrow, and this time there won't be any distractions."

"you sure?"

"yeah, i'm sure." i yawn. i'm still sleepy, and i can tell he is too.

"well, my friend is a throwing a party tomorrow night, everyone is going to be there. we can go there?" wesley says excitedly.

i'm definitely not ready for another party, i can already feel the hangover.

i agree anyway, "sure, i'll meet you there tomorrow."

"i'll see you then." he says before hanging up.

i toss my phone next to me, and everything that happened last night starts to replay in my mind over and over again.

i just can't get it out of my head.

a/n:
why am i getting mad at my own story when i know damn well what the hell is gonna happen next