No Good Deed

TWO

Once in the refuge of her room – still decked out in pink and purple ruffles from her childhood princess phase – AKA her blatant and failed attempt at stereotypical femininity – she felt she could breathe again. Any time a friend came over for a study session or a movie night, they left in shock at the ironic juxtaposition of the room's overt daintiness versus Cam's adventurous and sporty personality. In any event, it was her space, and she could cry here without repercussions.

Trancelike, she slipped the found phone from her pocket, hooked it up to charge, and flounced onto her bed. The next thing she knew, it was dark out, and the house was totally silent. Willing herself out of the half-asleep grog, she groped for the nightstand. After nearly smacking a water glass to the floor and bashing a knuckle against an alarm clock stuck on daylight savings time, her hand closed like a mechanical toy claw around her phone.

Except it wasn't her phone. It was the found phone, now rejuvenated. Its broken screen glowed in a technological kaleidoscope, and her eyes strained against its brilliance.

Not quite 9:00. Cam could have sworn it was half-past midnight. If she went back to sleep now, though, she'd be back up before dawn.

Rolling to a sitting position, she took a moment to gather her bearings. Water. That was her immediate need. And then pizza. Eating her feelings always seemed like such a good idea in the moment.

But first...Her fingers went to work. The found phone had no passcode, and she easily made her way to recent contacts. She scrolled through a short list of nicknames – Katy BestFriend, EX DO NOT ANSWER, Weird Jeremy – until she found HOME. It wasn't too late; if someone answered, maybe she could return the device to the rightful owner the next day. As soon as she clicked the listed number, the contents of her stomach flipped slightly. Something about talking to strangers struck an almost primordial nerve.

The phone rang twice before someone picked up: a woman with a tremulous voice. "Hullo?"

"Uh, hi, I found this phone earlier today."

Silence.

"At Lake Harbinger?" Cam prompted.

"Is this some kind of joke?" the woman asked brusquely, her voice wavering to its breaking point on the final note.

So much for trying to do something nice. "No," Cam paused, taken aback. "I was hiking and found this phone. I called the number listed as 'home.' Maybe I have the wrong number?"

The woman's tone lightened considerably. She offered a forced, apologetic laugh. "Oh gosh, my mistake. I thought this was one of those prank calls. Please forgive my manners!"

"You're fine," Cam excused. An awkward pause followed. "So, how can I get it back to you? Do you live in the Lake area?"

"Well, I'm over in Stockton, but I can meet you anywhere. Could you meet tomorrow? I'm just so...thrilled. I thought it was lost forever!"

"Sure, that should be fine. I'm not far from Stockton. I should be free tomorrow around three. Would Northgate Mall work?"

The woman hesitated, as if consulting someone in the background. "Yes, that's fine. I'll see you at the Coffee Bean."

"That sounds – " Before Cam could say great , the harried woman hung up. "How weird..." she whispered out loud, realizing that the two hadn't even exchanged names.

The odd conversation stuck with her through dinner, like the tangy aftertaste of a kiwi. After opting to gorge herself on a tray of microwave mac and cheese instead of a whole pizza, she decided to go back to bed. Exhaustion finally outweighed her curiosity, and the phone sat on her bedside table, untouched.