High Hopes

Incessant and harshly loud buzzing woke me up from my sleep. Groggily, I reached for where I thought it might be. I couldn't be bothered to open my eyes quite yet. I blindly answered, bringing the phone to my ear and letting it rest on the pillow. "Hello?"

"Hello, Grace?"

"Yeah?" The British accented voice jogged my memory from last night, the first time I'd seen Tom in months. I hoped it was just a coincidence.

"My name is Luke Windsor. I work with Public Eye Communications; your agent gave me your number-" He began. My eyes shot open once he mentioned his name. While he kept jabbering away, I glanced at my partner from last night. He slept soundly, and I took the blessing as my chance to exit the premises without the awkward next day conventions.

"Let me just stop you right there. Did Tom put you up to this?" I asked him while pulling on one of my friend's t-shirts. After searching through the drawers, I found a pair of women's black yoga pants that happened to fit me. Whoever she was, it would certainly be her loss. They made my ass look amazing.

"Excuse me? I'm not sure I follow."

"Tom Hiddleston. Did that fucker put you up to this? Does he think I'm dumb? I know who you are. I'm not interested." I ended the call, quickly pulling on my Vans and grabbing my stuff. Once I was outside, I used my phone to figure out where I was. Another call from Luke came in while I tried to find my way home. I frustratedly sent it to voicemail, and then noticed I was a walkable distance from my apartment. As I started walking, my phone buzzed letting me know I had a voicemail.

I dismissed the message insistently, walking a mere block before curiosity got the best of me. Luke sounded genuine when he said that Tom was concerned about me. He'd asked Luke to work on getting him involved in a project with me, and Luke had thought it a silly idea. He said it would've been easier to just meet up with me and talk. Tom told him it wouldn't be that easy. Luke had called me against Tom's wishes. He said that Tom just wanted to talk, and that I should give him a chance because he cares about me.

Angrily I shoved the phone back into my purse. Luke didn't know shit about me; we'd never met. We only heard about each other from Tom. Not to mention, I didn't need Tom's meddling or pity or whatever he was after. He probably only felt guilty, thinking he'd caused my spiral. It would be just like him to make everything about himself.

The thought reminded me, and I took my phone back out of my purse. I searched through my contacts until I found the name. I called her every day, but I missed her yesterday. When the phone rang more than twice, my heart skipped a beat. She answered on the third, to my relief.

"Baba!" I said happily when I heard her voice. My rock in this world wasn't long for it. She'd been getting worse, and we didn't know how much time she had left.

--

"I'm sorry, mate," Luke apologized for the umpteenth time. "She shut me down as soon as I said my name."

"That's why I wanted to do it my way," I blurted, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at him.

"I'm sorry," He pleaded. "I'll fix it. I know how much she means to you. She wasn't easy to talk to, by any means, but I'll fix it somehow."

I smiled at Luke, thankful for his effort. "She's in a bad place," I tried my best to advocate for her. Something wasn't right. I hadn't the slightest idea what it was. I wondered if it had anything to do with me, but didn't want to seem narcissistic.

"I understand. So I'm going to look through my contacts and see how I can do this. Give me a day or two. I'll have some options ready by then."

"Thanks man, I appreciate it," I patted his shoulder as I walked him out of the flat, saying our goodbyes before I came back to a patiently waiting Claire. We'd been in the middle of a morning after snog when Luke had dropped by. She had an expectant glance on her face, but I didn't feel up to it now.

"Sorry darling, the moment's gone. I've got work on the brain now. I'm going to go for a run. Would you like anything while I'm out?" I asked her politely, while I shuffled my things around and changed into my running clothes.

"No," She sighed, her tone unhappy. "Have a good run."

There were people who turned to alcohol or drugs to numb the pain. I know a girl who does that, and I love her very dearly. I want to help her. I want to be there for her.

There are people who can't deal with a broken heart, so they turn to someone else to fill the gap. It's wrong, but it works. For some people. Why doesn't my best friend want to be there for me?