Page 8 of No, You Hang Up

“Care if I use the ensuite? That reminded me I need to pee,” she tells me apologetically, a kind, half-smile on her lips.

“Just don’t judge me for not taking the trash out yet.” I yawn, knowing Em won’t trash anything, or actually judge. Then I push to my feet as well to gather up some of the trash from the night. Suddenly, I’m not so sure I want to watchRV. I’m more tired than I thought I was, and the whole prank call mistake has put a damper on my night.

Theirs too, if Mads’ and Em’s faces are anything to go by. But then again?—

My phone rings, surprising me, and on the way to the kitchen I glance at the screen, balancing the trash in my other hand. The number comes up asUnknown,but that doesn’t mean much to me. Especially since this is how Patrice’s calls always show up.

But what if it’s that guy? The irrational fear surges through me, and I have to remind myself that Mads downloaded the prank call app on my phone to prevent exactly this. Still, it takes a few extra rings before I have the nerve to answer it, and I bring my phone to my ear just as I dump a box into the trash. “Hello?” I ask tentatively, heart racing. I know it can’t behim. But it’s so coincidental to receive a call right after we did that.

“Kaira?”Patrice’s voice immediately has me rolling my eyes, though I sag in relief and lean on the counter. Mads appears in the room and I mouth my neighbor’s name at me, causing her to roll her eyes in sympathy. As I watch, she heads to her pile of stuff in the chair and fishes out her vape to head out back instead.

“Yeah, Patrice?” I sigh, glancing at the clock. “Isn’t it a bit late for you to be calling?” It’s already ten thirty, and I would’ve thought she’d have been in bed hours ago to maintain a healthy level of spite.

“There’s a non-tagged car in your driveway.” Her voice is sour, and all I can think of is that she’s sitting in her living room with a pair of binoculars, writing down Em’s license plate number.

“Yes, there is,” I agree, taking another load of trash to the can. “My friends are here. You know, the ones you made sure I registered with the HOA to be here whenever they want? The ones with visitor passes?” It’s an absolute joke to me that our neighborhood has to do this, but given the fact I could never afford a house like this on my own, I really can’t complain too much.

Well, yes, I can. And I can hope, secretly, that Patrice either moves or faces an unfortunate fate, as bad of a person as that may make me.

But really, she’s brought on any bad karma all on her own.

“Hmm.” There’s disapproval in her voice, and I can all but hear her looking for something else to complain about. “You’ll bring your garbage can in before noon, won’t you?”She’s desperate. I can smell it.

“You know I will.” Dishes go in the sink next, and I pick up a butter knife while wondering how easy it would be to murder the old woman with it.

“Well, have a good night, then. I suppose.” Without waiting for me to answer, she hangs up and I’m left with my butter knife and thoughts of murder.

At least, until the phone rings again, prompting the sameUnknownnumber to come up. Em walks in, her expression questioning as I groan and bury my face in my hands with the butter knife protruding near my bangs. “She’s out back, and I’m getting neighborly HOA calls,” I tell Em. “I’ll come suffer with you when I’m done.”

“Try not to lose it. Remember, she’s old and frail.” Em walks through the kitchen, opening the sliding door that leads to my covered patio and the fenced-in yard beyond. On what’s probably the last ring, I answer the phone, head to my couch, and collapse.

“Listen, Patrice,” I begin, irritated. “It isten thirty. As much as I appreciate your dedication and?—”

“As fun as it is to hear your angry voice, little rabbit…”The soft, silky tone on the other end is most definitely not Patrice. “I’ll stop you so you don’t waste what seems to be a very passionate rant on me. And I’m glad to see this is your phone, not your friend’s.”

For a moment, I’m so surprised that I don’t know what to do. My lips are parted, words heavy on my tongue, but I have no idea what to say, or how to process this.

There’s no way he can be calling.

“You, umm. You don’t have my number,” I murmur stupidly and in disbelief. “We downloaded an app. Some number spoofer that?—”

“Then your friend forgot to use it, rabbit.”He chuckles. “But it’s not a surprise, she definitely doesn’t seem like she’s bright enough to stop and double check. Tell me, is prank calling something you do often? You seem pretty awful at it.”

“Who are you? Why did you call me back?” I try to demand, though I don’t feel confident in my words. I hesitate, then add, like I feel the urge to be somewhat polite, “But no, I’ve never, ever prank called anyone. She told me she had before. She said it would be fun.”

“And is it fun? Are you having a good time right now?”

“…Not particularly, no. I’m going to hang up now?—”

“I’ll just call back until you block me. And I’ll be incredibly upset if you do. Come on, little rabbit,”he cajoles almost sweetly. “My night’s already gone a little off track. Don’t make it worse for me.” Somehow, that feels more like a threat than a plea.

“What do you want?” I finally make myself ask. “An apology? I’ll give you that, okay? I’msorry. It wasn’t my idea, and she shouldn’t have done it.” Not to mention I’m going to lose my shit with Mads for not remembering to use the app she specifically downloaded for this.

“That’s not a very good apology,”the man admonishes. “You could tell me your name. That would make it up to me.”

That draws a barking laugh from me, and I shake my head even though he can’t see it. “Not a chance. I’m not that stupid.”

“Well, that’s certainly up for debate, isn’t it?”I have no idea what he means, or why he sounds like there’s a joke I’m missing, but I don’t comment on it. I’m about to start placating him, just to get him off the phone. Taking a breath, I rub my hand over my face to keep myself calm and collected, like I need to be.

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