After waxing poetic about Jeff to her roommate for almost a half hour, it's safe to say that Annie is pretty excited to finally call him back, on the landline this time.
It'll be great - now they can talk for as long as they need to; no more rushed goodbyes or having to strategically leave information out of the conversation to accommodate more pressing details.
She waits for Victoria to head to bed - which takes a good amount of convincing, mind you - before dragging one of the bar stools from the kitchen area round to the hallway, right by the door. The landline phone is attached to the wall less than half a foot away, so it's an optimal position to be able to sit and talk at the same time.
(Because she envisions this particular conversation to last quite a long time. If she believes what Victoria says, if Jeff really is so eager to speak to her… Well.)
It's 11pm, in DC, and 9 in Colorado, but she figures that since it's a Friday evening he shouldn't mind too much that she's calling this late.
Her fingers shake a little when she hovers over the redial button, but it takes a surprisingly small amount of effort to press it, and soon the ringing is sounding out into the silent apartment.
He picks up after the first ring - wow, he sure must have been eager.
"Annie?"
"Hi." She replies, embarrassingly breathlessly. For the first time since landing in DC, she's glad he's not here with her. Her cheeks are burning red.
There's silence on his end for a moment, and then his breath hitches, like he's about to speak - but then nothing again. Annie waits patiently for him to gather his thoughts, but privately reflects that this must be the older version of the three little typing dots on iMessage.
"So, I'm guessing you figured out how to use a landline telephone?"
"Huh?" She tugs at the white cord.
"You grew up in the cell phone generation," he remarks. "I mean, is this the first time you've ever had to use one, or not?"
"I've used a landline before, Jeff." She scoffs. When he still doesn't say anything, she adds, "I'm not that young, you know," and immediately wonders if it makes her sound too eager.
"Uh-huh." She can picture him smirking.
"So, uh." She begins after a moment, twirling the cord around her index finger. "Victoria said you called earlier."
"Your roommate?"
"Yeah."
"Well, yeah. Sorry about that. I guess I miscalculated the time difference, or something…"
"No, it's okay. It takes me a while to get home from work." Despite it being the middle of Summer, the sun is well and truly set now. The lights in the apartment are mostly off, just the sliver from Victoria's room, and there's a strange sort of calmness about the whole scenario.
"Home?" It sounds a little like a croak.
And, now she feels bad - great. "No, no, I meant-"
"I know. It's okay."
She swallows and worries if he heard it, and then she worries that she's overthinking the call, and then she worries that she's overthinking everything that's happened in the period of time between "I let you go" and right now.
"Hey, so, um. I guess you'll probably be wondering why I called…"
"Yeah…"
He sighs down the line, heavy and tired and incredibly Jeff-like.
Annie waits once more. This time it's not too long, though-
"I thought you should know… I've sort of started seeing someone."
(...?)
The air literally gets caught in her throat.
"It's not serious or anything - we only went on our second date today - but I thought, you know, after everything that happened… You deserve to know."
He says something else after that, but she can't even make out that it is, because she's holding the phone away from her head. (Just, she doesn't want him to hear her weird, gross choking sounds.)
"Um, that's great." She manages to force out, after a solid minute of sputtering. Even though she really, really doesn't want to continue this conversation anymore, she asks: "It's not - I mean. It's not Britta, right?"
(Because she has to know. And, because his patterns are pretty easy to see, most of the time. It's happened more than once before: just when she thought something might actually happen between them, in comes Britta, and he's gone again.)
"No! That's - no. Never." She can imagine him shaking his head, barely hiding his disgust. "Just, I met this girl when I was out for a run last week, and… I don't know."
She knows he's waiting for her to say something, but there's just…. Nothing. There. In her brain. It's not that she's speechless, not really, because in order to be speechless you have to be shocked.
And this, well. It isn't all that shocking.
Because, (come on, Annie) she is halfway across the country. In a different time zone. In a different apartment, different job, different state, different clothes.
And Jeff is such… He's Jeff Winger. He gets dates, he gets 'the girl', but only when he wants to. He doesn't want to 'get the girl' that just so happens to be hundreds of miles away, and she can't really blame him. That night in the study room was just as Abed had described it. An unauthorised finale: a last-ditch effort to hold onto their patterns.
He kissed her goodbye, for one last time.
He kissed her goodbye, because she asked him to.
He kissed her goodbye, and maybe that will be enough.
Because what started as an experiment-turned-hopeless-crush ended up as a soulmate-turned-star-crossed-lover, and maybe that's all that will ever happen.
"Annie?"
"Huh?" She can't tell how long she was spaced out for. It must have been a long time.
"Are you okay?" He starts to cut her off before she even has the chance to speak. "Sorry, this was weird, I'm realising that now… Can we talk about something else?"
"I - Are you sure?"
"Yeah. I didn't just call you to brag about my love life, you know." He chuckles, softly, and despite everything, Annie feels herself laughing shakily along with him. When he's finally caught his breath (much sooner than she has, mind you) he changes the subject. "So, what's been going on since we last called?"
"It's classified."
"Come on."
"Fine," she rolls her eyes, but it only makes them more teary. "I mean, it's - it's been fun. Yeah. I really like DC. I've said that before. Sorry." She looks around frantically, searching for something to talk about, but suddenly everything just looks boring as hell. "I, um, I have - I mean, my roommate was very interested in you." She's grasping at straws and definitely knows it.
"Oh, really?" He's all coy again. All smirks and leans and casual, Annie, God.
"Yeah. She answered the phone when you first called and-"
"Yeah, sorry about that again…" He interrupts, sounding sheepish.
"No, it's fine! She didn't mind - and I don't either. Nope." She lets her back slide down the wall until she's (very uncomfortably) sitting on the wooden floor, forgotten bar stool be damned. The bottom of the wall is cold against the sliver of skin exposed between her work shirt and skirt, and she wonders where, exactly, Jeff is right now. His landline is in the hallway, she knows from years of skirting around his place and deliberately avoiding eye contact with his bedroom door. She imagines him mimicking her pose, sitting against the wall with his head resting against the plaster and the phone sitting gently in his hand. "I mean, she just wanted to know who you are, is all."
"You haven't mentioned me already?" He fakes shock. "God, Annie, and I thought I actually meant something to you, after all this time."
More than you'll ever know. She thinks, but her mouth says, "Shut up."
"You wound me, Edison."
"I do talk about you… And everyone at Greendale. I just don't go into much detail - she works nights, and I work days, so we don't even see each other for many long periods of time, anyway, and I guess it just never came up. Plus, I've only been here for two weeks."
"It feels like longer." He admits, so quiet she barely hears it.
(But she'll later cling to that murmured phrase, when it's dark and quiet and sleep won't come.)
She opens her mouth to say something, not even planning it out beforehand or anything, when there's a muffled thud on the line.
They speak at the same time:
"What was-"
"Oh, not now-"
"Sorry, what just happ-"
"Sorry, sorry. I think my neighbour's at the door." He sounds distracted. "I - Uh, I'm guessing I'll have to cut this short, now. I'll - I'll call you later, 'k?"
"Oh, um, yeah! Sure. That's… Fine." She stammers. "I mean, it's getting pretty late for me, here, I should probably be going, anyway…"
"Yeah. Just, text me later? We can reschedule to a time when my crazy neighbour isn't hammering on my door."
"Yeah, sure. Sure. I, uh, I'll text you. Tomorrow, if that's okay."
"Uh, yeah, sure, sure. Bye!" His next word is less chipper. "Goodnight."
"'Night." She replies, and her voice is soft, and God, she might as well have just screamed I really miss you down the line.
(She shivers when she finally crawls into bed.)