Page 60 of The Fallacy of True Love
Cam
My phone rang, showing a name I should have deleted from my contact list. I immediately canceled the call. Asking Alonzo for help last night was a bad idea. I should have known he wouldn’t do anything without wanting something in return.
Typical.
I was about to block him when my phone rang. This time, it wasn’t Alonzo.
It was Nikki.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Glad to know you can answer the phone,” Nikki drawled.
Damn it. “You talked to him.”
“Before you threaten me, you should know that your guy’s at the registrar’s office right this moment trying to get the document you asked for.”
My body froze at the words registrar’s office.
“He was calling because they’re asking questions he can’t answer. Maybe try talking to him before you give me the whole traitor speech.”
I unlatched my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “Fine.”
“Call him now, Cam.” Nikki hung up before I could respond.
The line hadn’t been dead for a couple of seconds when my phone rang again.
I picked up, and Alonzo’s voice flooded my ear.
“Hey,” he said. “The staff at the registrar’s is asking for your full name and student number.”
I answered him without thinking, shooting out the familiar numbers like I’d used them just yesterday. Funny what two years of conditioning could do to your brain.
“Got it. Can you hold on in case they have other questions?” He sounded short and formal, nothing like the guy I’d known briefly.
I nodded like he could see me. “Alright.”
Muffled noises came on—a faint female voice followed by Alonzo’s deeper tone. The exchange continued for less than a minute before he addressed me again. “Okay, they’re getting it ready.”
“They didn’t ask for anything else?”
“Nope. I’ll just wait here. Thanks for picking up.”
“Wait,” I blurted out.
There was silence as I tried to find the words. When I still hadn’t spoken, he said, “Wait for what?”
“Thanks for going there.”
“Sure.”
I licked my lip. “Okay then.”
He chuckled quietly. “Bye, Cam.”
We hung up, and I stared at my phone, wondering how he’d managed to turn my mood—no, my entire day—around. I went from stressing over having to go to the city just to get a document I should have had in the first place, to puzzling over why he did what I’d asked even after I had been a bitch to him.
The cynic in me whispered that the favor wouldn’t come for free. I wished that part of me didn’t exist, that I didn’t automatically question someone’s motives or expect the worst from them.
