Take What You Need {L.H.}

The Voicemail

Luke hated losing his phone. Well, it wasn't so much losing, as it was misplacing.

It was never where he thought he put it. Whenever he thought he put it in his pockets, he found it inside a pizza box in the kitchen or under a couch cushion in the game room.

Once, he found it in the backyard next to a decently large spider who didn't look to pleased to part with the item.

The problem this time was he knew exactly where it was. This was a problem because he didn't want to answer it after the party he went to last night.

He figured it would be best for him to at least check his voicemails today.

His mom was first. It was mainly about not forgetting to feed the dog.

Michael was next. Luke had to listen to it a few times, seeing as it was extremely muffled. Around the 4th time, Luke realized that this message was NOT meant for Luke ((or anyone else)) to hear.

He thought about deleting it but he didn't. He figured that he could use this against Michael at some point.

Who knew when an accidental buttdial phone call of your best friend's hook-up catchphrases would come in handy.

The third message was from a girl he met at the party. Ryall, who Luke barely remembered meeting, let alone making out with, sounded very drunk as she attempted the process of telling Luke how much fun she had.

Luke deleted the message before it ended because he didn't want to remember that again. ((Besides the fact that Ryall was a very bad kisser, she also attempted to make out with 4 other people at the party after him.))

The last message was from an unknown number. He considered automatically deleting it before listening because it was probably a telemarketer calling about something unimportant.

He looked at the number once more and figured that it was worth a shot anyway.

"Hi. My name is Annabelle..."

When he finally finished the message, he thought about calling her back. What could it hurt, right?

That was basically the reason why he put his number up there. Maybe this was a sign that he was supposed to help someone in the world accomplish something important ((even if all he did was listen to them vent.))

She sounded reasonably young, so the worst problem she could have was which band poster to put next to her bed, right?

Despite the voice of reason in his head saying it might be an older man in his 70's instead of a teenage girl, he pressed the Call Back button.

Ring...

Ring...

Ring...

{A.N.}

Wow guys, thanks for the feedback! It's hella rad to know ya'll like the story.

If you have any questions, I'm here.