Let Me Put You In The Picture: Version 1

Chapter 202

Ring! Ring! Ring!

It was hardly a ring. More like a soft musical chime that was barely audible most of the time. But it was the default ringer on my phone and I wasn't arsed to change it.

I perked up when it went off and gasped when I read the caller ID.

"What the fuck?" My breath hitched in my throat.

I hadn't deleted any of the numbers but hadn't heard from any of them since I left. And I suppose it went without saying since I didn't reach out either.

"The phone works both ways, y'know." My cousin told me once when I was getting on her about not calling me enough.

I let the chime go for a couple more seconds. How long would it take before it sent the person to voicemail? I'd never measured it out but had certainly let it happen enough times. Mostly for scam calls and other numbers I didn't recognize.

But I definitely recognized this one.

I took a deep breath as I picked up the phone. I stared at the name across the top of the screen then finally slid my finger across the bottom of it.

"Hello?" I said into the receiver.

"Alright, Jules?" He replied way more calmly than I ever expected.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah. I mean, I guess so but...I'm sure you've heard the news."

"I read about it on Facebook." I informed him. "An article come up 'cuz I liked Ringo Starr but I ain't even know you was friends with his grandson. And I ain't know who that Noah kid is either but what happened to Alex? He ain't cool enough to hang out with no more?"

"No, it's not that...it's just...it was a stupid thing to do-"

"Yeah, it sounds like it!"

He sighed. "Look, I knew you'd be like this and you've every right to be but I'd appreciate it if you could...would you come back to London for me court date?"

"Why?" I raised my eyebrows curiously. "You over eighteen now so-"

"Yeah, I know. But I'd appreciate it if you'd...please?"

I changed my clothes in the airport restroom to make myself more presentable. Sweatpants and a hoodie wouldn't fly where I was going. But the bathroom that was available when I was flying didn't have enough room to change either so there I was.

I called a taxi that was ready and waiting for me as soon as I left the airport. The driver helped me with my bags and then we were off into the busy London streets.

I stayed quiet contemplating everything I missed. I didn't know where to begin. I only ever got bits and pieces. I always stopped myself at bits and pieces and never let myself find out anymore.

It prevented the pang in my heart every time something popped up on Facebook. Google was the easiest to prevent because I just didn't let myself search for anything. I didn't use Twitter and wasn't photogenic enough to bother with Instagram. Snapchat seemed silly. Was MySpace still a thing? Regardless, I stayed pretty old school.

The taxi pulled up in front of the courthouse and I couldn't help gazing at the name on the front of it until the driver blocked my view when he came to assist me with getting out.

"Your bag, Miss?" He called as I headed up to the front door wheeling my suitcase behind me.

"Oh, shoot!" I remembered stopping where I was and turning around. "Apparently there's a red Ferrari in the parkin' garage with Australian license plates. They said I could put it in the trunk."