Anonymous

“HI, JESS. I guess I kind of warned you that I’d drunk dial you, so here I am. WOW, it’s loud in here. CAN YOU HEAR ME? CAN YOU…LIAM, NO, GIVE ME MY-.”

“Okay, they’re in the bathroom. And I’m not really sure why I’m whispering, but it works. I’ve had two more beers, and now I think I’m officially drunk. Actually, no, I know I’m drunk because there’s a woman over there who I originally thought looked like a man, but now she looks incredibly fit. Not as fit as you though. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life. Your eyes just…OhshitZayn’scomingbackgottagobye.”

“What was I saying earlier? Oh, your eyes. They’re the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, and they’re just…so beautiful. You know? YOU KNOW WHAT? WHEN WE HANG OUT, WE SHOULD JUST GO TO MY FLAT, AND WE SHOULD JUST MAKE OUT. I’D GO ALL THE WAY, BUT I DON’T KNOW IF YOU WANT TO…HARRYYYYY, NOOOOO!”

“I feel like I’m going to puke. Why did I drink? I should have been talking to you. You’re way better than…oh, shit, I’m going to get sick.”

“You have no more new messages. Main menu…”

I wiped a couple tears from my eye that had escaped as I laughed myself almost to death. When Louis had threatened to drunk-dial me, I hadn’t figured that he’d actually do it. But he did. Four times, all from varying stages of delirium.

And he’d called me beautiful. He’d also said that he wanted to have sex with me, but he’d said I was beautiful first.

Just as I started to calm down, my laptop started to ring, signaling a call from Louis. Leaning over, I answered it, not even bothering to try to wipe the massive cheesy grin off my face.

“You listened to the message, didn’t you?” Louis groaned as he answered, using his thumb and forefinger to rub his eyes.

“Message?” I snickered. “Love, you left four messages on my mobile.”

“Oh, shit,” he breathed, trying not to snicker. “I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You warned me that you might do it, anyway. Not that I thought you actually would, but…”

“I’m the worst at drunk-dialing,” he groaned. “One time, I got really trashed at this party, and I called up this girl that I’d fancied for a while, and I confessed everything to her. I figure I must have been pretty graphic about it, too, because she came up to me in school on Monday and slapped me across the face in front of everyone.”

I laughed as softly as I could, trying not to be mean to him, and he just sighed at me. “Alright, I guess that’s kind of funny. But I didn’t learn from it. The boys know that I’m awful with it, but I think they find too much humor in it to take away my phone.”

“I don’t blame them. I laughed so hard while I was listening to them that I started crying.”

“Wait, what did I say? I only remember the one where I started screaming because it was so loud in the pub, and Liam took away my phone.”

I relayed his voicemails back to him with as much detail as I could, and his face just got redder and redder. By the time I got to the part where he suggested we just go back to his flat and make out/have sex, he groaned and put his face in his hands.

“Oh my God, Jess, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I swear, I’m not like that when I’m sober.”

“It’s fine,” I chuckled. “I wouldn’t let you do it, anyway.”

He took a long breath and brought his eyes back up to the camera. The lighting in the room made his blue eyes shine even brighter than usual, and it made my breath catch in my throat. “Alright, can we change the subject? I’m officially mortified.”

“Look at it this way: at least we can’t embarrass ourselves in front of each other anymore.”

“I don’t think so. You haven’t embarrassed yourself yet.”

“And I don’t plan on it.”

A devious smirk pulled up one side of his mouth. “I think it’s my turn for the asking questions, so…”

“No way,” I interrupted. “You asked the virginity question last yesterday, so it’s my turn.”

“Nope. I’m taking away your turn.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “Nope! Because it wasn’t your turn yesterday, but you took it, anyway. Welcome to payback.”

I slouched in defeat, knowing that he was right. But I really didn’t like it. I wanted to be able to cheat without any consequences or repercussions.

“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” he asked, that irritating smirk still very present on his face.

“There are quite a few of them,” I mumbled, my mind flashing through the various humiliating events in my childhood. To say the least, I had not been a graceful or proper child. I was kind of a hot mess, for lack of a better term.

“Just pick one, then.”

Immediately, a memory stepped into the forefront, and all the others escaped into the little crevices around my brain so I could no longer retrieve them. And I had no choice but to share.

“When I was in sixth grade, in order to pass gym class, we had to run a mile. It isn’t really a big deal, but it was to me then. The other kids buzzed about it for the entire week, but nobody stressed about it.

“But for me, it haunted my every thought. I knew I wasn’t capable of running a mile. I wasn’t the skinniest of kids, and I knew something awful was going to happen, and I wasn’t going to pass gym.”

“So what happened?” Louis interrupted, appearing riveted by my misery.

“I’m getting there. I just had to lay down some context first,” I defended. “So the day came, and I was all dressed in my running shorts and oversized t-shirt, my hair up in a ponytail. And I was petrified. My knees were weak, almost knocking together with nerves, while the other girls around me stretched and readied themselves. After all, a mile is nothing to most people.

“The gym teacher started the race, and everyone took off. I kept a slow pace, knowing that if I went too quickly, I was going to fail even more than I would going slowly. And I actually almost got to a quarter mile before I started to get a cramp in my side. I remembered hearing somewhere that you’re supposed to run through the pain, so that was what I did, but it just kept getting worse and worse.”

“This doesn’t even sound bad.”

“It is,” I insisted. “So it got worse, and the pain was totally taking over my mind. I could focus on absolutely nothing but the throbbing ache in my right side. And just after I passed the quarter mile mark, I puked. Right there, in the middle of the track, in front of my entire class.”

Louis winced. “Oh my God. What happened then?”

“My teacher took me inside to the nurse, and kids called me Lardo for the next month.”

“That’s disgusting,” he spat. “That they’d say that, anyway. Not that you puked. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t in physical shape to run a mile.”

“Whatever. At least they stopped calling me names when it came out that a girl in grade eight called Hannah Baptist was caught kissing her math teacher.”

The boy on the other side of the computer looked at me in horrified interest. “What the fuck kind of school did you go to?”

“An interesting one,” I sighed. “And that was just middle school. Don’t even get me started on high school.”

“Alright, let’s change subjects for a second. And this doesn’t count as a question.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “What?”

“Have you made your decision? About whether you want to meet up with me in a couple days?”