Second Chances – Part 3 [The Phone Call]
Disclaimer: I own nothing, you hear me?
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Rory set her half eaten pizza slice on the ground, her coughing diminished and she looked to the cardboard box, her eyes clouded with tears. Wiping them quickly, she stood to her feet, making her way to the couch. Sitting on the black couch slowly, she didn't notice Lane copying her movements. Rory held the pillow close to her, hugging tightly. "What did you see?" her voice came out ragged, full of emotion.
"A picture, and a letter."
Rory knew Lane meant well, but anger built up inside her. Lane had no right going through that box. "Did you read the letter?"
Lane shook her head, guiltily looking to her friend "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… I know I shouldn't have… but…"
"Curiosity got the best of you," Rory muttered, glancing down to her fingers.
"Yes, but to answer your question, no I didn't read the letter." Lane whispered, playing with her dark rimmed glasses.
"He…" Rory's voice cracked just as he entered her thoughts "Tristan DuGray. And he…" her blue eyes looked to her friend "… was my everything."
Lane inhaled quickly, she had never witnessed Rory cry. Lane admired Rory for one reason; Rory was determined. She never let emotions get in the way of her dreams. She dismissed people who took advantage of her; toyed with her feelings, break her trust.
"True love?" Lane found her voice.
Rory shrugged "Maybe…"
"And what happened?"
"It ended," Rory answered, a hint of bitterness evident in her soft voice "We even had a tree…" she smiled a little at the memory.
"A tree?"
"Weepy," Rory replied "We would just sit under weepy for hours, just talking… we didn't even have to talk… just being in each other's company…" Rory paused, looking straight at Lane "And… there's not one day where I don't think about him… think about where he is right now… what he's doing… I have no doubt in my mind that he's successful, powerful…"
"What went wrong?" Lane asked carefully.
"His father hated my grandfather, which quickly turned into a dislike of everyone in the Gilmore family…"
"Oh Rory…" Lane whispered, noticing her dampening blue eyes.
"No," Rory closed her eyes, trapping the tears that threatened to fall "It's okay."
"It's not okay, obviously, you're still affected by this."
"Yeah well, I'll get over it," Rory whispered, biting her lip.
"If it's true love… then maybe…"
"Just forget about it Lane," Rory forced out.
--
She wiped her clammy forehead, breathing in slowly. Why was it so damn hot? Rory opened her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes, almost forcing them shut, hoping sleep would finally arrive.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
"Did I wake you?"
"You would wake any normal person when you call at 3:27 in the morning."
"I'm sorry," she laughed silently "I couldn't sleep."
"So you decided to call me?"
"Yes."
"Ah."
"Besides, it's your job."
"What's my job?"
"Its your job to entertain me when I'm bored."
"I'll be sure to remember that."
She smiled.
Rory's eyes shot open, cursing silently. "Damn," she whispered loudly, her eyes adjusting to the darkness surrounding her.
-
He looked at the clock hanging on the wall. 2:35. Groaning, his eyes grazed over the phone number, his fingers tapping against his work desk. Arms wrapped around his chest, a sickening smell filled his nostrils. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, he turned toward the grinning girl, forcing himself to smile, he watched as she pouted playfully.
"Baby, when are you going to finish?" her sentence came out high-pitched.
"Not for a while, why don't you go to sleep?" he suggested hopefully.
"Aww but baby," she batted her extra long eyelashes "I want to spend time with you."
Tristan sighed, "Melinda, I'm working."
"You're always working," Melinda huffed "At least go to bed… it's almost three."
"Not until I finish this," he mumbled, brushing her hand off his shoulder.
"Fine, I'm going to bed…" Melinda said, walking away swiftly.
"Good riddance," Tristan mumbled. He didn't need her company, not now. Melinda and Tristan have dated, on and off for six months. Tristan's head found the hard surface of the wood, his eyes still lingered at the phone number. How was he going to call? Where would be find the strength to call? How would he react to hearing her voice once again? He groaned inwardly. Her voice… her sweet voice. Gingerly, he closed his eyes, and just as he had guessed, an image of her face appeared. He opened his eyes, almost immediately. Licking his lips, he remembered her lips, always red and ready to be kissed. He remembered her laugh, music to his ears. He loved her eyes, her best feature. God, he missed her terribly. He had dated after they separated, dated quite a few girls. None came close to her. Not even close.
Stifling a yawn, he made his way onto the leather couch, lying down slowly. His eyes closed. Just a few minutes, a few minutes.
"This is our spot."
"Our spot?"
"Yes, our spot," she pointed to the weeping willow towering over the and her eyes twinkled "… underneath Weepy."
His blue eyes opened, bloodshot from lack of sleep. Coughing, he made his way to the kitchen, fetching himself a glass of ice-cold water. Drinking the cold liquid in record time, he blinked hard and looked for the clock. 4:55 already? Must have slept a little longer than I wanted to.
"Weepy," he whispered, smiling at the name. His eyes landed on the white cordless phone lying on the counter, his hands reached for the device, no matter how hard he tried to fight it.
His shaking finger pressed the first number carefully, pushing the white button to its maximum. His shaking voice cracked as he recited each number. "Three… Six… Seven…"
He paused, his eyes widening, not quite believing what he was doing. "OneNineSixSeven."
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"What the hell am I doing?" he mumbled.
"Hello?"
His breath caught in his throat, his heartbeat quickened. Just hearing her voice had that affect on him. Nobody ever affected him the way she did. Nobody except her.
"Hello?" exhaustion was evident in her soft, sleepy voice.
"Hello?" she repeated, a little louder.
Tristan continued to breath, low and soft.
"I can hear you breathing…" annoyance filled her voice.
He closed his eyes; the sound of the dial tone filled his ears.
Okay, where did my reviews go? It says 71, but I don't see 71. * Sighs angrily *Lane knows about Rory's past, everything but Tristan. Thought I'd clear that up.
Anyway, REVIEW!
Till next time.
- RockerFreak