Novel & Cerita Calling Chris

I flick through my diary until I get to the phone number disguised as a product order key and I dial the number. Ring, ring. I wait. Come on pick up, pick up. Ring, ring. “Hello,” the happy voice calls. An instant smile crosses my face. “Yo, Chris.” “Hey,” he calls excitedly. “Stace, man. Where you been, bro?” I laugh out loud. “Missing you, you ugly prick.” I swing my chair from side to side. It’s good to hear his voice. Chris was my best friend all through school, and even now as I live in an ulterior universe to him, he is still my best friend. He works for the United States Government and has contacts everywhere. A diplomat, no less.

That night, I came down with a high fever. I was barely conscious—my mind drifting between dreams and delirium. For a moment, I thought it was still three years ago. Instinctively, I called Howard for help. But instead of his voice, I heard Phoebe's syrupy tone on the other end. "Who's calling you at this hour, Howie?" It was late, yet the two of them were still together. The fog in my head cleared just enough for me to hang up the phone immediately.

I'd been in bed the whole day just crying and sulking but now I needed to pick myself up again. I can't cry about it forever. After going through my contact list last night, my drunk brain had decided to call the last person sober me would've thought of. I couldn't call Tristan and I wasn't in the mood for Katie's judgements so I'd called my boss instead. I'd regretted that decision as soon as he showed up. He was on a date.

“Mind link with us only, no calls, Lucien is concerned that they might be tracking our comms.” “Understood,” he responded in a gruff voice. “Awesome, we should be back in a few days, Heath is probably just being an ass,” I finished as Zach pulled the car up. We both chuckled, I couldn't put my finger on why, but we all had a slight distaste for Heath.

“I will send you a picture to show that Chris is fine, and when next I call you, pick up immediately. Don’t let me miss you too much, my love.” Then he hung up. I held the phone like I could connect with him just by holding it. I tried calling the number back but it was already disconnected. A few minutes later, I received a message from another strange number. It was a picture of Chris. He was sitting on the floor crying, and he was still in the cloth we had worn for him to the wedding. He looked dirty and smaller to me. I zoomed the picture and started touching it slowly. I knew that I would do anything to have Chris back at that moment, even if it meant I would listen to this l