Nibble part 2

"Hey senior."

"Hi, Harrison," I replied, the smile on my face evident in the tone of my voice. I loved spending time with my friends, I loved writing poetry, I loved listening to music- but the one thing I really lived for was talking to Harrison. "So," he said, and I smiled as I heard the frat boys in his house yelling in the background, "you enjoying being one of the oldest kids on campus?" I smiled, dipping my finger in the jar of peanut butter I just took out of the fridge, enjoying the emptiness of the house. This was my favorite part of the day-talking on the phone with Harrison, having the whole house to myself. My parents didn't get home from work until five and five thirty, and I took advantage of the time to myself as much as possible. "Definitely," I said, grinning, "and are you showing symptoms of sophomore syndrome?" Harrison laughed, "No more than the first time." I smiled, remembering how stuck up he had been when I was a freshman. He wouldn't let me talk to him while we were at school. The phone beeped then, and I sighed and said, "Could you hold on a sec, Harrison? There's a call on the other line."

"Course. No problem." I pressed the talk button, "Hello?"

"So," Lindsay said, and I couldn't help but smile at her voice, "you up to a trip to the mall Saturday? Drinks on me." I laughed, "By drinks you mean Starbucks, right?"

"Yup. If you wanna shop, bring your own money." I laughed, "I'm in. I gotta call you back, Linds, my brother's on the other line."

"Oh. K. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yea. Later."

"Bye." I pressed talk again, "Harrison?"

"Hey, sorry, sis, I gotta go. Bunch of the guys are going to the beach. I'll talk to you tomorrow, k?" I sighed, "Yea. Of course. Bye, Harrison."

"See ya, sis." He could have called me back later, rather than waiting until tomorrow, of course. But I knew why he wouldn't. He didn't want to call during the fighting. He was out of here, free, and he would never look back. I was sad that we couldn't talk longer, but I knew that soon enough that would be me-and I would never call.

© 2010