Page 22 of Falling for Grace

Just a phone call.

I press the call button before my head gets in the way and I stop myself from following through.

“Hi, you’ve reached Danny. I’m probably screening, so leave a message.” His voice flows from the speaker and I smile because knowing Danny, he probably is screening. The beep sounds and I clear my throat.

“Danny, it’s Grace… Gracie. I’m… I’m sorry it took so long.” I hesitate, trying to find the words. “I want to talk, I want to see you. God, I want to go back. I wish I hadn’t taken so long, but I needed to, you know, I needed the time.” My eyes burn. The words continue to come from my lips, having been suppressed for so long. “I’m sorry it took so long. Shit, I’ve said that already. Look, I’m blabbering. You know I’m crap at leaving voicemails. I’m in Texas. You probably already know that, too. So call me back on this number, okay? I’d love to hear from you, but…” I pause as my voice cracks slightly. What if after all this time Danny didn’t want a relationship anymore, didn’t want to be friends? “I get it if you don’t want to talk. I mean, I understand. Send my love to your family. I miss you and your brother, even if his mug is plastered everywhere. I still find that weird. Anyway, bye.”

I hang up.

I did it.

I just took a massive step… High fucking five me!!

It isn’t even 7:15, but not only have Iacknowledgeda hell of a lot of shit, I’ve also called Danny. Today is going to be a good day.

Chapter 8

“Ihave a confession to make.”

I’ve barely even walked into the kitchen before my roommate Theresa starts firing words at me. It’s a constant onslaught. This girl can talk…and I mean A LOT. I rummage at the back of the cupboard and tut as I realise that the cow bag has eaten the last of the Rice Krispies, which leaves me with the Lucky Charms.

I mean, marshmallows in the morning—really?

And America wonders why there is an obesity problem.

I turn my attention to Theresa and look at her auburn hair piled messily on top of her head. She is still wearing her pyjama bottoms and a baggy T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, displaying her sun-kissed skin. Makeup is smudged under her eyes. The pools of her warm caramel brown eyes stare back at me, alert and waiting for me to join her so she can continue burning my ear off, because I know that’s what she was about to do. She’d been doing it continuously since we moved in together a year ago.

“I think…and please, Grace, I ask you not to judge me….”

Oh, God, I can’t even imagine what is about to follow that statement.

“I think I’m a Belieber.”

I snort and lean over the breakfast bar, grabbing the milk carton.

“I mean, he has some cracking songs out. Sorry I ate the last of the Krispies, I know how hard you find it pretending to hate Lucky Charms.”

“What are your plans today?” Given she is still in her PJs, I am assuming she isn’t working.

“Netflix and chill day, I’d say. But want to go for some drinks tonight?”

I nod. Why the hell not? It’s Friday, after all. I’m not an old spinster.

Yet.

“Sure, I’ve got nothing else on.”

We sit munching our cereal, glancing at each other when Justin Bieber pops on the radio and smiling.

“See—I can’t escape him. It’s like he’s tormenting me, desperate for me to tweet him and invite him for a drink. Hey, maybe he can come tonight.”

I roll my eyes and continue to eat my cereal.

“Can I ask you something?” I say after a few more moments.

Theresa walks to the sink placing her bowl into the water glancing over her shoulder, “Oh my God! You’re asking me a question, like, you’re actually initiating a conversation. Jesus Christ, we have an early Christmas miracle.”

“Ha bloody ha.”

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