Chapter Three
Tera
The alarm for work wakes me up, and I fumble to hit snooze. I feel like I’m coming down with a cold, maybe the flu. Should I call in? I’d hate to get anyone else sick. My body aches, and my head is all foggy. Then I remember last night, and the sick feeling gets worse.
I huddle under my sheets, pulling them over my head as if they could ward off monsters and depression.
When the alarm goes off again, I pull myself up and stop it. I have several missed calls, mainly from Andi. That same unknown number has called a few more times, and so has Trevor with increasing frequency. I should have called him last night or this morning. I hope he forgives me for not wanting to talk to anyone.
The messages are mostly Andi, and I don’t want to listen to them. I skip down to Trevor’s, suddenly desperate to hear one friendly voice, and his concern washes over me like a balm when the message plays.
“Tera, please call me. I know you’re probably still taking care of Joe at the hospital, but we’re worried. Just a quick one to let us know you’re ok, and then you can get back to making him laugh. Bye.”
If only that was the reason I didn’t call. I would give anything to make that my reality right now. I waver on calling him immediately, just to hear his voice, but I don’t know if I’m ready. How annoyed will he be when I start crying?
The following message is a brief one from an unknown number. An angry voice fills my ear, and I almost hang up until the words penetrate the fog.
“This is Max. Call Trevor. Now.”
That’s all he says. This is the first time I’ve ever heard Max speak. Probably the last time, too. I should save this message to prove he isn’t mute like he pretends to be.
The following two from Trevor go from concerned to almost frantic, and guilt worms its way through my heart. I need to call him now. I can’t put it off any longer. I don’t like that he’s this worried.
I pull up Trevor’s number, guilt and concern overwhelming me. I have to decline a call from Andi before I can even dial.
“Tera?” His voice is sharp and angry. It surprises me because I’ve never heard him this mad, and I feel like a little kid about to be scolded. The guilt builds up until it feels like I’m choking.
“He didn’t make it,” I whisper shakily, taking a deep breath to hold in the sudden onslaught of tears. I’m not going to get yelled at while bawling my eyes out. It feels like cheating to get out of a lecture for some reason.
“Fuck,” his tone changes instantly, hushing into sorrow.
Silence fills the line, and I hear a guy asking him something in the background.
“Joe died,” he responds, and the silence goes on.
It’s unnerving, listening to his soft breathing and the murmur of someone else in the background. I had no idea he had a roommate. I guess I am oblivious to everything around me, just like Sal complained.
The other voice stops, and Trevor takes a deep breath before asking, “Are you still at the hospital?”
“No, I’m home,” I pick at the covers, wanting nothing more than to get off the phone. I told him what he needed to know, there’s no real reason to keep talking. I finally called and somehow escaped a tirade. I want to end this on a high note.
“Home? Your friend is with you?” The concern reappears, and I answer because I’m grateful that he’s back to normal.
“No.” And I’m so thankful my ‘friends’ aren’t here.
“Didn’t Andi find you? I gave her your purse.” His tone becomes angrier as he speaks, and I don’t know why. It’s just a purse.
“I have it, thank you,” I reassure him.
“You’re at home alone right now?” The anger is starting to take over his normally sweet nature again, and I suddenly can’t deal with it. I don’t even care if it makes me selfish. I want the numbness that went away at hearing his voice to come back.
“Can I have tonight off? I have to figure out if Joe has any next of kin,” I blurt out, voice shaking.
He is quiet for a second before he says in a surprised tone, “The bar is closed for the next couple of nights, Tera. The cops are still milling around down there, and we aren’t sure when they’ll be done.”
That voice in the background starts up again, louder and angrier, making me want to hurry this along even more. I don’t even know this guy, and he’s mad at me.
“Will you call me when they’re done?” I ask so I don’t have to hear the background voice any longer.
“Of course I will. Tera, would you like us to come over?”
Who is we? Is he going to bring his random angry roommate over with him? Or a girlfriend? How awful would that be? And witness my rundown apartment so they can compare notes about how crappy it is? No, thanks.
“I need to head out, actually,” I lie quickly. I’m planning on crawling back under these covers and not coming out for a while. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Tera-”
“Be sure to call me when my shift is back on,” I interrupt and hang up before he can say anything else.
I drop the phone back onto my rickety side table and burrow under the sheets to cry.