Room Service

Chapter Twelve

IT'S HERE. THE FINAL CHAPTER. Maybe listen to "Starstruck" to get yourself in the mood, because that's exactly what I'm doing right now.

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            Several days later, I was lying on my bed with my iPod earphones blasting in my ears.

            Really, it was a miracle that I even realised the phone was ringing; I couldn’t hear anything but the latest Taylor Swift track at full volume in my ears, but there was a vibration on the mattress that had me sitting up after a couple of seconds, wondering what was going on.

            After eliminating the possibility of a miniature earthquake that was hitting my bed and not the rest of my house, I realised the source of vibration was my phone, lying on top of the covers just next to my head. An incoming call was displayed onscreen, but it was from an unknown number.

            I was expecting it to be a cold caller: someone trying to sell me a mortgage or something, regardless of the fact I was only seventeen. Needless to say, I was a little surprised to press the phone to my ear and be greeted with the voice of someone who sounded like they’d just finished running a marathon.

            “Coraline?” the voice said, in a hushed tone forced out between gasps for air.

            “Um, yes,” I said, slightly warily. “Who’s calling?”

            As it turned out, I hadn’t really needed to ask; the moment the voice spoke again, a shot of recognition went through me, sending my heart leaping into my throat. “Meet me at the Viewpoint,” Leon forced out. Once I’d come to terms with the sound of his whispered tone, it was difficult to shake the image of him out of my mind.

            “What?”

            “The Viewpoint,” he repeated, even though I’d heard him the first time. “I need you to meet me there.”

            “Why?”

            “There’s no time to explain.” I wondered where he was, and exactly what strenuous activity had caused him to sound so out of breath. “Can you meet me there in an hour?”

            “I…” My voice trailed off of its own accord; I didn’t really know what to say. I couldn’t even work out whether I wanted to see Leon again. On one hand, there was a part of my heart that was pulling me towards the slightest mention of him – the same part that had enjoyed the first few weeks of summer to such an overwhelming extent – but this was countered by its own resistance. I’d been through hell and back over the past couple of weeks, and that was down to him as well. Seeing him had the potential to ruin my plans to get over the whole experience as quickly as possible.

            Before I could get any more words out, Leon’s voice sounded again. “Please, Coraline. I really want to talk to you. Just give me a chance.”

            And this, it seemed, was enough to break through that resistance; my heart swelled, still pounding with anticipation. “Okay,” I breathed, though I wasn’t sure why it came out so quietly. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

            He barely had time to utter a goodbye before the phone line went dead. I fell back against the bed, my breathing shallow, wondering how on earth I was supposed to make it up the hill to the Viewpoint when I already felt ready to pass out.

***

            He was already there when I arrived.

            I’d timed it to the minute, a perfectionist by nature, so it was an exact hour after the phone call ended that my first footsteps landed on top of the Viewpoint. He was leaning on the railing, his back to my approaching figure, staring out to sea with surprising intent.