Read Online Gimme a Call by Sarah Mlynowski - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sarah Mlynowski
Ads: Link
Which would be good, except that Tash, Karin, and Joelle are also gone. Bryan and I are back in our Halloween costumes, fangs glistening at the camera.
chapter ten
Saturday, September 10 Freshman Year
Through the peephole, I see Bryan in faded jeans and an untucked green shirt, standing at my front door, holding a container of … soup.
My heart flips. Omigod. He’s here. To see me. With soup. Is that not the sweetest thing ever? What should I do? I know that Senior Me—er, Ivy—would want me to send him away, but … how can I possibly turn away a guy who brings me soup? A hot guy who brings me hot soup.
I pull open the door. “Hi!”
“Hey,” he says, the tips of his cheeks turning red. “How are you feeling?”
Right. I cough. Twice. “I’m okay. Come in!” He follows me inside and sits down beside me on the couch. “I brought you chicken soup.” He holds up the plastic container. “Dorky, I know, but I need you feeling better for next weekend.”
“That is so nice,” I say. He could not be any cuter. I mean, really. He hands me the container. I’m not sure what to do, so I take it and place it on a magazine on the coffee table.
“So can we do something next weekend? See a movie maybe?”
Yes! I mean, no. “Yes,” I say. Definitely yes. I can’t turn Bryan down. I just can’t. I don’t want to.
He gives me a big dimpled smile. “Superb.”
My cell begins to ring from my bedroom. I ignore it. “So how’s your weekend going?” I ask.
“Uneventful. Played some ball today.”
The cell rings again. And again. La, la, la, I can’t hear it. When it finally stops, I unclench my shoulders.
Then I hear, “Hello, Devi’s phone.”
Omigod. My mom just answered my cell. My mother. Just answered. My cell. “Mom, don’t!” I scream, but of course it’s too late. What does it mean that she answered? Did she recognize my older voice?
“Devi,” my mom says, coming down the stairs holding up my phone, a puzzled look in her eye. “It’s someone named … Ivy? Or Ivan maybe? I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. But she—or he—says it’s urgent. Asked if you were talking to a boy, but I told her you weren’t. Oh.” She comes to a halt behind the couch when she spots Bryan. “I didn’t know you had a friend over.”
I grab the phone from her hand and hold it behind my back. “Mom, this is my friend Bryan.”
Bryan stands up and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Banks.”
Mom smiles and shakes his hand. “Can I get you something to drink or eat? I just made apple brownies.”
“That sounds delicious. Thank you.”
Mom disappears into the kitchen and I pick up the phone and press it to my ear. “Can you call back later?” I ask. “I’m kind of busy right now.”
“You don’t say,” she growls. “The bracelet is back on my wrist. The picture is back in its frame. You screwed everything up!”
“But I—I—”
“Tell Bryan to get lost!”
“But I don’t want to.” I want him to stay. I want to go out with him. I want to see a movie with him!
“Tell him he’s a jerk!” she screams in my ear.
I turn around so my back is to him. “He brought me chicken soup,” I whisper.
“Spill it over his head!” she yells.
I press the phone more tightly against my ear so that he won’t hear. “I don’t want to. I want to go out with him,” I whisper again.
“Frosh,” she says, her voice shaking, “you have to listen to me. Don’t waste three and a half years with him. You have so many more important things to do with your time. Don’t let him ruin your life.”
“But—”
“He breaks your heart,” Ivy continues urgently. “You have to trust me.”
My eyes feel hot. I don’t want to send him away, but what can I do? How can I not trust my future self? “Fiiiiine,” I grumble, and then hang up the phone and drop it onto the coffee table. I turn back to Bryan.
“I’m so sorry, Bryan.” Now what? I take a deep breath. “I’m
chapter ten
Saturday, September 10 Freshman Year
Through the peephole, I see Bryan in faded jeans and an untucked green shirt, standing at my front door, holding a container of … soup.
My heart flips. Omigod. He’s here. To see me. With soup. Is that not the sweetest thing ever? What should I do? I know that Senior Me—er, Ivy—would want me to send him away, but … how can I possibly turn away a guy who brings me soup? A hot guy who brings me hot soup.
I pull open the door. “Hi!”
“Hey,” he says, the tips of his cheeks turning red. “How are you feeling?”
Right. I cough. Twice. “I’m okay. Come in!” He follows me inside and sits down beside me on the couch. “I brought you chicken soup.” He holds up the plastic container. “Dorky, I know, but I need you feeling better for next weekend.”
“That is so nice,” I say. He could not be any cuter. I mean, really. He hands me the container. I’m not sure what to do, so I take it and place it on a magazine on the coffee table.
“So can we do something next weekend? See a movie maybe?”
Yes! I mean, no. “Yes,” I say. Definitely yes. I can’t turn Bryan down. I just can’t. I don’t want to.
He gives me a big dimpled smile. “Superb.”
My cell begins to ring from my bedroom. I ignore it. “So how’s your weekend going?” I ask.
“Uneventful. Played some ball today.”
The cell rings again. And again. La, la, la, I can’t hear it. When it finally stops, I unclench my shoulders.
Then I hear, “Hello, Devi’s phone.”
Omigod. My mom just answered my cell. My mother. Just answered. My cell. “Mom, don’t!” I scream, but of course it’s too late. What does it mean that she answered? Did she recognize my older voice?
“Devi,” my mom says, coming down the stairs holding up my phone, a puzzled look in her eye. “It’s someone named … Ivy? Or Ivan maybe? I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. But she—or he—says it’s urgent. Asked if you were talking to a boy, but I told her you weren’t. Oh.” She comes to a halt behind the couch when she spots Bryan. “I didn’t know you had a friend over.”
I grab the phone from her hand and hold it behind my back. “Mom, this is my friend Bryan.”
Bryan stands up and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Banks.”
Mom smiles and shakes his hand. “Can I get you something to drink or eat? I just made apple brownies.”
“That sounds delicious. Thank you.”
Mom disappears into the kitchen and I pick up the phone and press it to my ear. “Can you call back later?” I ask. “I’m kind of busy right now.”
“You don’t say,” she growls. “The bracelet is back on my wrist. The picture is back in its frame. You screwed everything up!”
“But I—I—”
“Tell Bryan to get lost!”
“But I don’t want to.” I want him to stay. I want to go out with him. I want to see a movie with him!
“Tell him he’s a jerk!” she screams in my ear.
I turn around so my back is to him. “He brought me chicken soup,” I whisper.
“Spill it over his head!” she yells.
I press the phone more tightly against my ear so that he won’t hear. “I don’t want to. I want to go out with him,” I whisper again.
“Frosh,” she says, her voice shaking, “you have to listen to me. Don’t waste three and a half years with him. You have so many more important things to do with your time. Don’t let him ruin your life.”
“But—”
“He breaks your heart,” Ivy continues urgently. “You have to trust me.”
My eyes feel hot. I don’t want to send him away, but what can I do? How can I not trust my future self? “Fiiiiine,” I grumble, and then hang up the phone and drop it onto the coffee table. I turn back to Bryan.
“I’m so sorry, Bryan.” Now what? I take a deep breath. “I’m
Similar Books
