Chapter 92 The Landline Strikes Back
The Landline Strikes Back
Tessa
When Maisie's landline rang, I stopped my compulsive cleaning and stared like it had barked. Over the past couple of months, I'd called the number maybe a handful of times, but actually hearing it ring was something else entirely.
On reflex, I reached out and answered with a tentative, "Hello?"
On the other end, I heard a quick gasp, followed by a familiar voice saying, "Tessa? Is that you?"
I almost dropped the receiver. "Delaney?"
Instead of answering, she shot back, "What are you doing there?" She said it like she'd just caught me naked in her boyfriend's car.
But even if she had a boyfriend, I wouldn't know it, considering we hadn't talked in months. "It's a long story. But where are you?"
"I asked you first." Her tone grew disbelieving. "So you're stealing my friends, now?"
Talk about unfair. "No. For your information, I came here looking for you."
"And you just happen to show up on the exact day I call?"
I froze. Oh, gosh. The truth was so much worse. Dodging it, I said, "I'm glad you called. I've been really worried."
She snorted. "Yeah, I can tell. I've only called you a million times in the past two weeks."
If so, that was news to me. "Wait…you have?"
"Yes, actually." Under her breath, she mumbled, "And thanks for calling me back."
And then it hit me. "Oh, my God. My phone."
"What about it?"
"I don't have it. I haven't for a while."
"What are you saying? You lost it?"
"Not exactly." My cellphone was still in Chicago, sitting in that bus station locker. I wasn't even sure why.
Evan Carver was gone, but here I was, acting like I still needed to hide. I hadn't retrieved my phone. I hadn't checked on my apartment. I hadn't done much of anything.
Well, except for cleaning.
By now, I'd done so much mopping, I'd given myself a blister. But hey, it was better than obsessing over Ryder, right?
On the phone, Delaney was saying, "Not exactly? What does that mean?"
I didn't want to talk about my phone – or my troubles. I wanted to talk about her. "It's in storage – another long story. But how are you?"
"Five minutes ago, I was fine." She let out a humorless laugh. "And do you seriously expect me to believe that you've been away from your phone for two whole weeks?"
Two weeks – that's how long she'd been calling. But my timetable was a whole lot different. "More like two whole months."
"Wait…you've been at Maisie's for months?"
Damn it. I hadn't consulted a calendar, but it was true more or less. And now I felt defensive. "You did hear me say I came looking for you, right?"
"And then what? You just moved in?"
Pretty much. But it wasn't the way she made it sound.
Before I could even start to explain, she asked, "So Maisie is what now? Your best friend?"
Bestie or not, Maisie was my friend. And now that I knew her better, I understood just how badly she'd been hurt by my sister's defection. "A best friend you haven't spoken to in months?" But then, more softly, I added, "She really misses you."
Sounding hurt, Delaney said, "Well, it's a good thing she's got you then, huh?" Her voice wobbled as she added in a voice almost too quiet to hear, "But I'm glad you're both okay."
And now I felt terrible. Softly, I said, "Hey, it's not like I replaced you. Trust me, she'd take you over me, any day."
"Yeah, right. Just like Mom, huh?"
I knew what she meant, which somehow made it worse. "Mom does love you, you know. Maybe she's not good at showing it, but I know she does."
"Yeah, I can tell," Delaney said. "Even when she buys us matching earrings, she goes on and on about how pretty they are, because they match your eyes."
Delaney had amazing green eyes. And now that I thought about it, it would've been so much better if Mom had given her emeralds instead.
My stomach twisted with a sudden realization. If I hadn't loaned Mom that money, she wouldn't have blown it on sapphire earrings for either one of us. And everyone would've been happier.
Hoping to cheer Delaney up, I gave an awkward little laugh. "If it makes you feel any better, I had to sell the earrings for rent."
I was ashamed to admit it. But Delaney deserved to know. I wasn't nearly as golden as she thought.
All our lives, Mom wasn't the only one who compared us. Delaney had done her share of comparing, too.
So maybe – just maybe – hearing that I also came up short would make her feel at least a little better.
It didn't.
I knew this, because her reply was so sharp, it could've cut glass. "You are such a liar."