Page 62 of Masked Hearts

Eventually, I find it hidden underneath my pillow. I pick it up and stare at Eleanor’s name, which lights up the screen.

I have no energy for her bright and bubbly energy this morning, especially not after last night. Too many things are running through my head, so I trust my gut and don’t answer it, allowing it to ring until it goes through to voicemail.

Once the screen goes black again, I unlock it to send a text to my sister, checking in on her before tossing my phone on the bed again.

I swing my legs off the bed, but before my feet even meet the ground, my phone starts vibrating again.

I glare at the device in annoyance and contemplate turning it off entirely, but then the little voice in the back of my head whispers:

What if it’s an emergency or something wrong?

I sigh and grab the phone. “Hello?” I answer, hoping my tone will give away the fact that I’m not really in the mood to talk right now.

“You’re alive! Oh my God, thank the heavens,” Eleanor says in the most exaggerated tone I’ve ever heard.

Like I said, bright and bubbly. I just clearly forgot to adddramaticto the list.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” I stand and head to the bathroom, placing the call on speaker as I get my skincare together to wash my face. Eleanor and I have been friends for so many years and have seen each other in so many compromising situations, that neither of us cares anymore about pleasantries.

“Firstly you ignored my call—”

“No, I missed your call,” I correct her before this turns into some sob story about how I’m a bad friend.

“Whatever, and then on top of it, I had to hear from Kylian that you ran out of dinner last night, sick with food poisoning?”

My mind flashes back to last night. The high before the immense low. The excuse felt like honey the way it dripped from my tongue. In the moment, I would’ve fed Kylian whatever it took to get him to let me leave. I’m just grateful it didn’t take that much energy, after all.

“Yeah, I think it was something I ate,” I say, adding a slight groan to my voice to emulate the aftermath of a stomach bug.

“That’s insane, because you sounded fine when you called me in the bathroom where you were supposedly throwing up, and I distinctly heard a male voice before you hung up.”

Her voice holds no trace of judgement or malice, but rather humour, proud that she’s caught me in a lie.

I remain silent, rinsing off my face wash as I try to find a sufficient answer. “We just wanted to get out of there, so I said I wasn’t feeling great.” It’s not a lie, per se, but it’s enough of an omission of the truth to keep the rest of the night a secret.

It’s more than enough to stop Eleanor from asking any question that could lead to any further embarrassment.

“We huh? What happened in the bathroom?”

“Nothing,” I say and flinch because it came out too quick and too nervy.

“Yeah right. C’mon, tell me.”

“Eleanor nothing happened.” I sigh. Reliving the exact night I want to forget is driving my irritation to new heights, and I’m worried if I don’t get off this call soon, I’m going to say something I might regret.

“Okay, if something sexual happened, then stay quiet.”

I contemplate talking, but if I just go along with this, maybe it’ll be over sooner.

“Oh my God, I knew it. Is he big? I mean he looks like he’s big. Actually, he looks like he’shuge. You know, major big dick energy.”

“Goodbye, Eleanor,” I say as a heat creeps up my chest.

“Give me something here, I’m living through you right now.”

“No, goodbye. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say, and hang up the call.

Great. Now I’m hot, flustered, and hungry all at once, and the dread is still swirling in my stomach as I head down the stairs.

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