Lover's Dance

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, though I tried my best to ignore it. I knew they wanted more than anything to ask me what had happened, and why I hadn’t said much today or why I hadn’t stopped watching reruns of the OC, I show I was never really into. Even if they did ask me, I wouldn’t tell them. I couldn’t stand to tell them the perfect dream of Josh Hutcherson had been shattered as much as I couldn’t stand to say it to myself.
I had a pride issue, which was one of the biggest problems here. When Josh called and talked to me for twenty minutes without evening mentioning the weeks of silence, I quickly told him I had to go and hung up. I haven’t spoken to him since. It breaks my heart not fully knowing who’s exactly to blame.
My phone lit up and began to buzz, slowly moving sideways as it vibrated. I glanced at the screen, sighing and ignoring the call. I quickly looked around the room and saw everyone evading my eyes.
“Why don’t you pick up the phone?”
Everyone seemed to hold their breath when Lori said that and moved uneasily.
Lori had been friends with Kayla and I since high school, 11th grade. She’d been a senior then, but we still hung out as much as we could. She was funny and strange and loved music as much as we did. Singing was not her strong point, nor was any instrument, but she was none the less determined to spend her life in concert halls. So when we were about to head on our first tour and needed a merch girl, we called Lori from college and she accepted the job without hesitation. Honestly, Lori was one of my best friends and I loved her, even when she asked the wrong thing.
I didn’t particularly mind though, so I just shrugged. “It didn’t work out, so I’m severing the tie.” She raised an eyebrow, staring me down until I faced her.
we’ll talk later’, she mouthed to me. I rolled my eyes and smiled, nodding before turning back to the television.
Honestly, they didn’t have to crowd around me. I was just trying to watch Ryan Atwood.

“So tell me hot stuff, what are you doing tonight?”
I glanced up from my laptop at Kayla, who leaned against my door frame, simply glancing back down at my pjs before smirking. “Well, I don’t know. I’ve got a pretty wild evening ahead of me, who knows where the night will take me.”
She laughed, moving from my door and jumping on my bed and closing my laptop.
“Hey! I was reading!”
“About what, your horoscopes?” She teased. I rolled my eyes and pushed her, she held on to the blanket to keep from falling off the bed.
“Shut up, and I wasn’t.” I’d in fact been reading about The Civil War, but it wasn’t like I wasn’t one to frequent the star charts. Libra till the end.
“Why don’t you come out to the living room and watch a movie with me?” She whined, laying back on the bed. “I’m booored.”
“Go away,” I cried, frantically trying to push her off my bed before she got into one of her bothersome moods. With a laugh, she rolled off my bed and onto her feet, smoothly walking out the door and closing it behind her. I sighed and lay back, resting my head on my pillow and looking up at the ceiling. I remembered trying to find shapes when I was younger.
My phone rang beside me on my nightstand and I didn’t even look to see who it was, instead letting it ring and ring until it finally stopped.
After a moment, it rang again, letting me know I had a voicemail. I turned my head to look at it questioningly, who had been stupid enough to leave me a voicemail? My answering machine itself asked you kindly not to leave one, instead to call again. I hated voicemails. Grimacing, I grabbed my phone and pressed the first speed dial, waiting for the message to play back to me.
”Delaney, hey. It’s me, Josh. Again. I- I know you don’t like voicemails, so I’m sorry. But you won’t pick up the phone so I just- well, here.”
I bit my lip, almost wanting to delete the message right away. But the faint sound of music stopped me, so I instead put it on speaker.

The music continued to the end before it cut off quickly and Josh was back with that stupid nervous laugh with a quick, “So, yeah. Call me back, maybe?”” before he hung up. I sat up and threw my phone onto the mattress in front of me, glaring at it.
Just what exactly was Josh trying to pull here? I was all for the classic John Cusack outside your window act, but this was taking it to a new level I wasn’t sure I liked. Mostly, I was just confused. Mostly, I wanted to call him back and ask him why the fuck was he messing with my head. But that was hard when I never wanted to talk to him again.
I opened my computer and went to my iTunes before calling Josh back. The phone only rang once before he answered. I was hoping it’d go to voicemail, but I should’ve known better. Quickly, I put my phone on speaker and pressed play on my computer.


I hung up before the song could continue or he could say anything. With a final glance at my phone, I lay back down and closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep. At least then, I could dream of something else.
But I hadn’t even been lying down for three minutes when my phone lit up with a call once more. Furrowing my brows, I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored it again, waiting for it to go away. When it did it was quickly replaced with the buzz of a voicemail. Immediately I sat up and grabbed my phone in disbelief, dialing 1 again and putting it on speaker.

He hung up instead of leaving another message. I pursed my lips, hesitating. This was the start of a game, and I wasn’t sure if I was up to it. All I want to do is try to get on with my life and forget that one stupid night. Because that’s all it was, one night. It wasn’t some grand courting that took months and months of promise and hand holding, it was just a few hours at a party, and one date. They were great, yes, but if I was to look at my life’s book they’d be a paragraph or two. Surely, it shouldn’t be that hard to get on with my life, act like it never happened. But he wasn’t making it easy.
I called him back.
Of course, he picked up.

I groaned into my pillow when he called back, leaving yet another voicemail.

We went back and forth like that for awhile, communicating with music. It was what I spent my life doing, yet I hated doing it with him. This was different than any game I’d ever played and I didn’t like it very much. ’I’ll only call once more, you see.’ I thought to myself, sitting up in bed again, fighting a frown. ‘ Just so he could get the hint.’

When my phone rang again, I threw my pillow across the room and I almost threw my phone as well. I was really tired of this game, my head was dizzy and my chest hurt from pounding so much.

I didn’t know if he really was sorry, even after all these songs. I didn’t care, either way. I wanted him to stop trying to break my resolve and I wanted to go to sleep. But against my better judgment I pulled up another song on my iTunes for him before calling him back.

I hated this. I hated him. I hated everything, and when my phone rang again I almost burst into tears, pounding my hand against the headboard. Why was I doing this to myself? Why was I still picking up, listening to his heartfelt apologies? Why hadn’t I turned off my phone and why was I playing this stupid game?
Because I couldn’t help myself.


Waiting, acting clingy, ignoring my friends, and now, crying. The list of things I hated to do was slowly becoming things I just do. This, crying, was the worst.
“Fuck.” I cursed, wiping at my eyes.
I didn’t want to play anymore. I didn’t like the thought of him sitting in a room feeling remorse. I didn’t like the thought of him thinking of me, because then all I could do was think about him. It wasn’t fair, really. I couldn’t do it anymore.
I dialed his number furiously and waiting for him to answer. One ring, two rings, and he picked up.
“Stop!” I cried, begging. “Please, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t take this anymore. Please, stop calling. I like you so much but I don’t want to play anymore. Please? Please?”
I stopped to collect myself, to take a breath. I was light headed and heartbroken and just so lost. There was silence on the other end, and I almost forgot he was still there until he finally spoke.
“Okay.”
I blinked, wiping at my eyes again. “What?”
“Okay,” He repeated. His voice was so soft, so sad. “I’m sorry, I get it. I won’t call anymore.”
He hung up. I sat still for a moment, the phone still pressed to my ear, before I quickly threw it across the bed. It bounced and slid and landed somewhere on the floor. For a few minutes, all I could manage to do was sit in bed and try to breathe normally again.
I laid back down after awhile and tried to get some sleep.