Katrina Barnett928

1 LMU Drive, MSB 6689

Los Angeles, CA 90045

805-415-2159

March Eighteenth, 4:19AM

"Hello?"

Hi it's- it's me.

"Oh hey- wow- why are you calling from a restricted number?"

Am I? Huh. Oh, this isn't my phone. I'm just using it. I don't know whose it is. Just using it. It was by this pile of stuff- you know I wonder about people who leave piles of their stuff at places like this. Good way to get it lost, you'd think, or stolen. Or stuff all over it. There's this really nice coat here, like, vintage or something. I should pour something on it just to serve them right. The nerve, haha.

"You know it's about 4:30?"

Is it? Oh I'm sorry. I used to call you this early all the time before, didn't I?

"Been awhile since you did.. What's up?"

I don't know…

"Okay.. Where are you?"

At a party, duh. They're all playing beer pong though so they don't care.

"Sounds awesome."

Yeah they've been playing it pretty much all night. You should be proud, though, I played.

"Proud?"

Yeah.. That I didn't just sit around and do nothing like last time.

"Last time..? You mean last year?"

Whenever that party was.

"Why are you calling me?"

I don't know. I was just sitting in here by myself. I'm pretty much ready to go but I shouldn't drive so I'm waiting..

"How's your mom? Is she okay?"

Everything's really kind of spinny right now, it's kind of weird.

"You're waiting for someone to pick you up?"

Yea... Not much else to do.

"Did you… did you call someone? To pick you up?"

Yeah. And now I'm calling you.

"Who- are they coming?"

I PRESUME so, sir, why do you care?

"That's a stupid question. I don't want you to get raped or something."

Yeah, if I did it'd be on your head.

"Umm."

Not that… I'd get raped on your head. I mean it'd hang over you and you'd feel bad.

"I know what you meant, geezus."

But even if you did that wouldn't mean very much. It's not like it'd make you care, or something. Or whatever.

"Do you need me to stay on the phone with you? How long till your ride gets there?"

There you go again, caring about me. Hey-

"Yea?"

A few days ago I called you, too.

"Did you? I don't remember."

Yeah, I just wanted to tell you about this girl in my sociology class.

"Is she pretty?"

No- well, yeah, she is. But I wanted to tell you this crazy story. We were all going around in a circle, talking about- each of us telling weird things about ourselves, you know? One girl only dreams in black and white, stuff like that. I don't remember what I said, something about how big my feet are or something. You know Miranda even commented on the size of my feet the other day?

"Your feet are not that big--"

Yeah, yeah. Anyway. This girl, her random thing was she was deaf as a baby. No, well, not deaf…

"Hey, how much did you have to drink?"

Not that much, can I finish? She wasn't deaf, but her parents thought she was deaf. It was like she couldn't hear anything for two years of her life. They'd call her name, bang pots and pans, play music, anything, but it was like she couldn't hear. They enrolled her sister in sign language classes, and they took her to this doctor. And- you still there?

"Still here, yeah."

Just wanted to make sure, sometimes when you listen really well it scares me more than when you don't.

"What did the doctor say?"

She wasn't deaf. She just didn't care.

"What?"

She just didn't care! She didn't care about her family, she was just doing what she wanted to do. She didn't wanna talk either. Finally on the Fourth of July she jumped at a firework, and they knew he was right. Crazy, huh?

"That's weird- does she seem weird?"

Who?

"The girl. The girl now, in your class."

No. Not really. I forget her name, though.

"That's kinda sad."

I'm not good with names anymore… there's a couple in the next room.

"They're not…"

No, they're fighting…

"Are you there? Hey… you did call for a ride, right?"

I think so.

"Are you there?"

Yeah.

"What's going on?"

Why didn't it work?

"What?"

Why don't you want me at all?

"We're… we're different."

Is it because I'm like this?

"Like what?"

Like what… like this… calling you. Like this. And crying. Is it because I cry too much? Because I know I do, I can't help it, you'd know what I mean if you… knew what I meant…

"You don't love me, either- I mean, I love you, but--"

I'm sorry, I hate this. I should call my ride.. It was funny, I was feeling really sick, and I had to call someone for help, but I couldn't think of anyone else… Can't you just come and hug me or something?

"You haven't called for a ride?"

Shit, phone's dying. That's what I get.

"Look, we need to talk some more."

I have to call for a ride.

"Hey, it's not always going to be weird."

They're still fighting in there.

"You want me to come and get you?"

It's too late now, someone's here. So I'm gonna go. Phone's dying, too.

"Okay."

Cale?

"What?"

I wish you'd come anyway. Are you there?

"Hello?"

Hello? Cale?

"Hello?"

She died, today. Mom did.

"Hello? Hello? Call me on another phone if you can, okay? Hello?"

"Hello?"