Well, this is an odd little oneshot to return to the fanfic world with. I'm not even sure where this came from. I know what brought about the idea, but I was expecting to maybe write a paragraph or two, then drop it like so many other drabbles. Now I'm wondering if I should even be uploading it. ^-^; (Edit: FF.N keeps deleting parts. I think I've got it all back now, though.)

This is dedicated to Scotti, my closest friend, unrelated sister, fellow authoress and AMV addict, and my Garet since 8th grade. I know I suck at words, I hate being cliche, and I'll never know how to thank you enough, but you kept me together when everything else was falling apart. Even when we were busy with our separate lives, and fell out of touch for months or years at a time, just knowing that we could still call or visit whenever, without a bunch of awkwardness in the way, meant worlds to me. I can't imagine having survived high school without that, much less my first attempt at college, and definitely not the four years since dropping out and later going back.

Not only that, but who else would I let drag me off to Wal-Mart after midnight, and talk me into trying on a Yoda shirt?


Telephone



Beep!

"Um, hi, Isaac. It's Mia. Umm… Just calling to say, 'Hi.' Haven't heard from you in a while. Hope things are well. So, um, okay, I guess you're not in. I'll try again later."

Beep!

Isaac stirred his hot chocolate, looking bored out of his mind. He'd forgotten his cell phone at the dorm over the weekend, and, go figure, it had been a three-day weekend. Now the voicemail memory was just about loaded with messages. Which was odd, since not many people had called him in the past month or so. But, more importantly, he thought idly, he needed to buy more marshmallows.

The automated voice started speaking again. "Next. Message." Beep!

"Isaac? Are you there? Not sure I even have the right number anymore. Seems like you never answer or call back. Call or e-mail or something, will you? Your mom won't stop bothering us." Isaac cringed, then returned to stirring the drink. "And Jenna's been nagging me. Says you'd be more likely to talk to me than her, for whatever reason. Anyway, talk to you later. Maybe."

He thought he could hear Jenna shout something in the background, but her brother was already hanging up. The audio beeped again. "Next. Message." There really needed to be more voice options for answering machines.

"ISAAC! HIIII!" Isaac jumped and pulled the phone away from his ear. Oh gods, who gave Jenna a phone right after a sugar fix? "It's been AAA-GES! Howareyou? Whatareyouupto? Howsschool? WHY HAVEN'T YOU CALLED ME! Felix said I shouldn't call right after he tried, but whatdoesheknow! Call meeeeeee! Callmecallmecallmecallm-AH!" Isaac raised an eyebrow at the small machine. Jenna was still carrying on, but it was Felix's voice that spoke into the receiver next.

"Sorry, Isaac. Mom gave her a gift card to the coffee place down the block for her birthday. I don't know what they call the stupid thing she ordered, but it had at least five shots and who knows how much sugar."

"DON'T LIE, FELIX! YOU KNOW IT WAS YUMMY!"

"…Gotta go." Click. Beep!

Ah, that's right. It had been Jenna's birthday that week. Isaac stared at his now lukewarm chocolate. He'd meant to find an e-card for her, or at least look up and leave a comment on her MyFace or YouSpace profile, or whatever the social networking site of the day was. But he hadn't, and he didn't know what to say if he called, and the day had come and gone, and now he was at a loss of what to do without looking like more of an insensitive jerk than he already did.

Beep!

"Hi, Isaac. This is Ivan. Your mom called again today. Give us a call sometime, okay? Or at least call her? You're not mad at us for something, are you? Bye."

Beep!

Had his mom really called everyone? Repeatedly? Good Sol, she really couldn't take a hint. What made it a hundred times worse was how she always dragged everyone else into her little pity parties. How was he supposed to face his own friends, when his own mother was making him out to be the world's most uncaring and ungrateful son?

Beep!

"Isaac. It's Sheba. Pick up." Some stubborn, childish side of him pouted and yelled a whiny, "No!"

Click. Wow. Isaac knew Sheba wasn't much of a talker, but that had to be a record. Standing up and switching the cell to speaker, he went to his $10 garage sale microwave. It was ancient and bulky, but it worked, it fit on top of the equally ancient minifridge, and he didn't have to worry about it burning down the dorm building just to heat up hot chocolate. Setting the timer, Isaac let go of the dial just as the next message started.

"Hey! Isaac! Buddy! Remember me?" Isaac turned where he stood, and gave the device an odd, confused look. Garet? "Ha ha, been a while, hasn't it? You know, I don't know which of us is worse at keeping in touch. Maybe we're both just a bad. In any case, I was bored, and I looked through some old files on my computer. Guess what? I still have that goofy video we made in high school! You know, the parody series we were going to upload and become internet stars over? What ever happened to that plan?"

It was strange. If any one of Isaac's other friends had asked that last question, Isaac probably would have felt awkward. It would be like he had let them down (again!) by letting any old plans fall through. But, with Garet, it wasn't anything like that. Garet wasn't placing any blame. He wasn't disappointed, and he wasn't upset or irritated. Garet was laughing. Garet knew it was just a far-fetched teenage scheme. Knew that they were just dumb kids back then. That it probably would have never been as successful as they had dreamed it to be. He wasn't unhappy about it. He was laughing at the memory, because it had been the coolest thing in the whole entire world at the time. And, though he didn't notice right away, Isaac was smiling along.

"I'd better get going. Expect me to call and pester you again later, though! I might have to e-mail you some of this crazy stuff. See ya!"

The machine gave the routine beeps and toneless voice, and Isaac couldn't help but laugh, just a little, when the next message started.

"ISAAAAAC! Told ya I'd be back. I'm gonna keep calling until I get a hold of ya, too. I'm out at some party thing here at school. Can't remember what it's for, but there's a giant movie screen on the lawn, and I think the flyer said fireworks later. Boring, right?"

Isaac rolled his eyes. Garet was a pyro, if ever there was one. It was the only reason he ever bothered taking chemistry in high school, because he could claim the table next to the Bunsen burners and burn scraps of paper when the teacher wasn't looking. Or, since they were at the back of the class, he would doodle, or force Isaac into a merciless game of tic-tac-toe or hangman.

"Give me a call when you get the chance. Don't worry about waking me up or time zones or anything. If I can't answer, I won't answer, but I'll be up just about all night anyway. Damn roomies just drank who knows how many energy drinks. Laters, Isaac!"

Beep! "Next. Message." Beep!

"Isaac!" Isaac just about choked on his reheated coco. Garet again? "Remember that RP site we used to go to?" Yes, Isaac thought to himself. He took a careful sip- "It's still there, so I joined a few threads." -and almost choked on it again. He thought that site had sold itself out to corporate people and died ages ago? "If you still use it, I made a new account. PyroJunkie, I think. My roomie's snickering, so there's probably some sick innuendo or something about it I haven't figured out yet. On second thought, everything is an innuendo to this guy, so I'm not worried too much." Isaac grinned at the indignant, "Hey!" in the background. "Take care buddy!"

The next message wasn't so uplifting. "Isaac, sweetie, it's Mom." Isaac's mood instantly dropped all over again. "I don't know what I did, but please give me a call. I'm worried about you, sweetheart." He scoffed. Funny. She didn't seem that worried when she kicked him out. "I love you." Riiiiiiight. Because all loving moms grounded their kids for picking an out of state college that was closer to their dads. "Please call?"

No. Way. In. Hel.

Isaac didn't feel like drinking the chocolate anymore, no matter what temperature it was now. His dad had suggested that he get a new phone number, because messages like that always made the student depressed, but Isaac had turned down the offer. He said it was so his friends and other family members could still reach him. At this point, though, it seemed there wasn't really anyone left that he could talk to.

"Hey, Isaac." Oh yeah, there were still more messages. Except, this time, Garet didn't sound so boisterous. In fact, if Isaac didn't know better, he'd say Garet actually sounded subdued. Garet sighed. "Sorry. Guess I'm having some trouble cheering up today. Flunked a midterm, and Gramps got on my case, so I'm not sure why I'm even calling and bothering you." It wasn't an accusation. It wasn't implying that Isaac may have intentionally been dodging his calls. Isaac stood rooted to the ground.

He didn't hear tones like that very often anymore.

"So, um, yeah. Forgot you guys get a holiday weekend over there, so you're probably out of town or something still. You'd better be enjoying it, though. That's an order, buddy." The pyro laughed, but even through the phone, Isaac could tell it was sad.

That feeling was gone by the next message. Mostly. "Isaac, pal! Aren't you back to school yet?" Again, Garet laughed, and again, Isaac could see- or hear- right through it. "Just saying, 'Hi,' again. We've really got to catch up with each other sometime. Maybe plan a trip, even. Your mom still being a brat like she used to be? I think she tried calling the other day, but I was out at that theater party thing on the lawn. Not that I would've answered if I had been there. Great Luna, even her messages are starting to sound loony!" Isaac couldn't help it. He started laughing along with his friend.

His friend.

Someone he could talk to, even when it felt like everyone else had written him off.

Someone who would understand everything he said, and would be equally understood in return.

Someone who wouldn't judge him, because that someone didn't like being judged himself.

"Talk to ya later, buddy. But, just in case we start playing phone tag, good luck in your classes."

It was the end of the voicemail messages. He had checked his text messages when he'd first gotten back, but there hadn't been anything special. Just more messages from his friends (did they still consider him a friend?), saying his manipulative mom (his words, not theirs) had been calling, asking if he was mad for some reason (because, Sol forbid, that must be what it meant when he didn't call back for a week), and demanding to know what was going on (um, hello, school?). If a single one was siding in his favor, or even thinking, "Gee, maybe I should ask Isaac how he's doing with his freaking-super-busy-midterm-schedule, before I believe this rumor that he's just flat out ignoring me," they didn't show it very well.

One text, and only one, wasn't deleted. "Ever been to Vegas?" Isaac saved that one. And, when the phone rang not a minute later, Isaac looked at the caller ID, and knew just how to answer.

"Hey, Garet. Still thinking of that trip you mentioned?"


~End