Cute Voice

POV: Shelly

"I know how it feels. Listen, Shelly, I gotta go-" 

The voice came through soft, but rushed, piercing Shelly with the sudden desire to take the words she'd just said and stuff them back into her mouth. 

She hesitated, then swallowed hard, pressing her phone against her ear and cheek."Hello?"  There was no response. No witty reply, no joke, nothing. "Shoots. Are you rejecting me now?" She said the sentence without meaning to, then quickly pulled the phone away from her ear, hanging up. 

Silence rung around her room in the absence of Nobody's voice. Nobody. His voice was the rushing of a waterfall. The smirk of a jock. The murmur of a singer. Sexy. Simply put, Nobody's voice, mixed with the adorable way he twisted his obnoxious words into little smirks sent right at her, was nothing short of heart-stopping. 

She was dumb. She watched Disney too much, spent too much of her life believing in romance and happily ever after until Reality came and took that all away. She was not falling for a guy she'd never met, never seen. 

And yet, something about him pulled her in, making her wonder about him. Who was he? What was his life like? How did he look? Did he share the same views as her? What did he think about? And, perhaps what she thought about most, did he think about her as much as she thought about him?

Shelly looked around her room, with it's green walls and Harry Potter posters occupying them. She barely saw it all, until she realized she was staring at the poster of Emma Watson/Hermione that bulged slightly, like something was behind it. She stood, smoothing her hands down her grey sweats before walking toward the poster. Lifting the corner, she frowned, staring at the picture frame hidden behind the hastily erected poster. A man smiled out of it, with large eyebrows and an even bigger forehead. Slight stubble dotted his round jaw, but she couldn't deny that he looked happy. And in his lap sat a littler, more innocent version of herself. Back then, her red hair had been curlier, a pile bizzare curls that bounced out of her head like a halo. She'd been more frecked as well, and her smile had been wider, not the close-lipped one she'd adopted lately. A space where her tooth had been smiled out at Shelly from the picture as she leaned back into the man she'd once called her father.

Shelly took another breath, then a step back, covering the picture over with the poster. How it should be. She shouldn't have looked at it. Not when her emotions were already scrambled.

"Mom," she said, heart beginning a rapid pace once she had said it. 

"What, honey?"

Shelly didn't bother responding, waiting until her mom appeared in the doorway. She thought of asking for a hug, then dismissed the thought immediately. She would break if hugged. And her mother would be wierded out. 

"What's going on?"

Shelly looked at her mother's beautiful face, soft brown hair, brown eyes flecked with gold, freckled skin marked with smiles and worry all at once. She waited. 

"Who were you just talking to on the phone?"

There it was. Shelly sighed. "This guy I have to tell you about."

Her mother was still, but for an eyebrow that zigzagged inward. "Uh oh." She smiled grimly. "Do you want to come to the living room to talk about it?"

Shelly shrugged. She followed her mother out of her room, past the kitchen, and sat in the cramped living room of thier two-bedroom ranch. "He's really nice, but I never met him, just on the phone."

"What does that mean?" Her mother asked, sitting across from her in the white folding chair.

"I got his number by mistake-" Shelly paused. She was  going to sound so, so stupid. No way was she saying why or how she'd gotten it in the first place "And then I called back by mistake and then he did and then I did and then we just started talking and I don't know, he's sweet."

"And you like him?"

"Mom! That's awkward!"

Her mother didn't look apologetic. "Sorry, honey. But you don't know who this guy is! We've had discussions about these bad people before- did you give him any information? You know this isn't safe!"

"If he's a creep, he got a voice transplant, because he doesn't sound like he's seventy-five," Shelly said stubbornly. She felt suddenly defensive. "He's nice, Mom! And he said he's eighteen, which actually makes a lot of sense. I'm a smart kid, I'm not going to anything dumb."

"Honey..."  Her mother looked worried and confused, and Shelly softened a little. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but it's only been a month."

"Just be careful, Shelly, okay? I love you too much for you to be anything but careful."

"I know. I love you too."

Her mother seemed about to talk, when the doorbell rang. And rang. And didn't stop. Shelly rolled her eyes, even as tears came to them. She blinked furiously. "Tell him to go away!"

Her mother stood, mouth tight, feet quick as they clicked to front door, just feet away. "Hugh, what do you want?"

Shelly heard the sound of her drunken father's voice. "Lemmee in,Francess. I'don getto see my daughter?" His voice was slurred. 

"Tell him no!" Shelly yelled. "Tell him not after what he did to you! Tell him-"

"Shelly, honey, do you want to go to your room, I can deal with a jerk like him." Her mom said, mouth tighter than ever, and looking somehow tall against the grimy door and slurred words pounding behind it.

"Don't be nice," Shelly snarled. "'Jerk' is a compliment." She lifted her hand, showing her mom her muscle, an unspoken sign the two had developed, like a secret handshake. "I'm going to go to my room- I need someone to talk to."

Her mother's next words were almost drowned out by her ex-husband's bangs. "Be carefull, Shelly. Don't forget to be. Please."