Double-Checked

"Aw, come on, Carls!" I pleaded. "Your grandpa doesn't mind being alone all day!"

She was talking about spending the weekend with her grandfather, saying he was always so "lonely" ever since her grandma passed away. Sure, that was all fine and dandy, but what was I gonna do all weekend? Homework?

"Sam, you'll be fine, promise. But you can't come over to the empty apartment; Spencer's going to an art convention in Portland and actually locking the door. He's taking precautions to make sure we've got food when we come back."

I frowned and sighed dramatically. Now I really didn't have anything to do.

Carly cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes and smiling halfway. "You're such a drama queen."

-

The weekend rolled around, and I woke up at one in the afternoon on Saturday in my own bed. It had probably been a year or so since I actually woke up in my own bed on a Saturday; usually I just spent the weekend over at Carly's. But of course she had to go visit "Grandad."

I dug around for my phone and found it under the pillow. I searched through my contacts to look for someone to talk to, someone that wouldn't have any plans. I tried Gibby.

"Hi, Gibby."

"Sam, are you figuring out how to assault me over the phone now?" he asked, clearly frightened. Well, this could be fun.

"Yes, Gibby. I'm giving you a wedgie right now."

"No! Come on Sam, please! This is brand new underwear!"

"Too late, it's over your head."

Then he started crying, so I guess he really did think I figured out how to assault him over the phone. What a freaking nub.

"Well, see you, Gibby," I said, then hung up, rolling my eyes. That was just ridiculous, and hopefully I wouldn't be this bored ever again in my life to actually call Gibby. It was definitely a new low.

-

Three hours later, I got tired of everything on television and my computer decided to freeze every five minutes, rendering it useless. I double-checked my phone every so often to see if maybe someone wanted to hang out. Nothing. Just a few texts from Carly, which I responded to quickly.

I went through my phone book again, playing a game. I would go through the names as fast as I could, then press the "call" button without looking to see who it was, then force myself to have a conversation with the person, even if it was Pizza Shack.

I pressed call. A familiar, deep voice answered on the other end.

Of all people, I had to call Freddie. Screw my life.

"Hi, Freddie. What are you doing?" I managed to ask pleasantly.

"Uh, nothing. Watching TV. My mom's not home," he added.

Was that some kind of a hint? I thought to myself.

Or at least I thought I thought that. Because the next the he said to me was, "Maybe."

I smiled, glad he couldn't see me. Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind hanging out with Freddie all afternoon.