Call It Whatever

Chapter 3

It took a while before Zac and I fell asleep that night. We were up for about three more hours before we passed out from exhaustion. Now it's the next morning, and Zac is ordering room service for breakfast. It arrives less than half an hour after he called for it. Soon enough, we're sitting at the table, devouring some delicious omelets.

Sometimes, being friends with a rich celebrity is great.

I'm not looking forward to seeing Yugo today. I know for a fact he's going to be mad at me for hanging up on him. If I was him, I'd be mad at me, too. What was I thinking? Sure, it was Zac who told me to do it, but I didn't have to do it. Then again, continuing the argument wouldn't have done any good.

But hanging up on him... maybe I made it worse.

Or maybe I stopped it from getting worse.

Either way, I won't know until I talk to Yugo. Which is something that I don't want to do even a little bit.

Soon enough, we're done. We set the plates on a tray of some kind. I walk over and sit on the pullout bed. I sigh. I clench my fists. I'm a combination of sad and angry.

Zac sits down next to me on the pullout bed. He still has a look of sympathy in his eyes. I look over at him.

"What's on your mind?" he asks.

"Last night. Yugo." I sigh.

"You feel bad for hanging up on him still? Look, he was yelling at you like you were the one that had a problem." Zac puts his hand on my shoulder. "It's not you; it's him."

I let out another sigh. "I don't wanna see him today."

Zac gives me a look of empathy. "You don't have to. Just hang out with me today."

I crack my fingers. "I'm gonna have to talk to him sooner or later."

"Well, talk to him later then." Zac stands up. "Give him some time to cool down. Give yourself some time to recover."

I can't help but smile. "Good idea."

I turn my phone back on. I then stare in horror at the lock screen. Yugo had tried to call me fifteen times. My eyes widen. Nobody has ever tried to reach me that desperately. I look up at Zac. My facial expression is either horrified, confused, or disgusted. I'm not sure which. I turn my phone around and show Zac. His jaw drops. He then closes his mouth and tosses his hair over his shoulder.

"That's nothing," Zac says. "I once had a crazed fan that tried to call me fifty seven times in one day."

"This isn't some stranger. This is my best friend." I stare at the notifications again. I notice a string of text messages, too. There were about ten of them in total. I unlock my phone and read through them.

Hey, why did you hang up on me?

You there?

I'm sorry, please don't ignore me.

Hey?

Hello?

ANSWER ME!

I've called you 10 times! Why aren't you picking up?!

Are you OK?

Did something happen?

Don't be mad at me, please. I'm sorry.

I stare at the messages. They all occurred about twenty minutes apart, over the course of the whole night. I then turn my phone around to show Zac. Zac sits back down on the bed. He sighs, and stares at the screen.