It was three in the morning and I just couldn't bring myself to sleep. I tossed and turned on the bed, the sheets clinging to me like regret. I finally caved and reached for my phone, half-hoping that if I blinked hard enough, Theo would've replied. Or maybe he was typing something—who knows, right?
I was just about to tap the screen when it lit up on its own, and a loud blast of "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!" filled the room. The exact line—"Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! a man after midnight..."—screamed out of my speaker like the universe was mocking me.
I groaned but picked up anyway. "What?" I didn't even bother pretending I was happy to hear him.
"Before you say anything," Leo's voice crackled through the speaker, "I just want you to know that whatever emotional crisis you're having? I am not equipped to handle it."
I sat up, blinking. My face scrunched before I could stop it. "Excuse me?"
"You didn't answer my texts, so I figured you're either dead, in a deep existential crisis, or writing sad poetry about a guy who doesn't deserve it."
"I do not write sad poetry."
"I literally have screenshots."
"That was different."
Leo scoffed. "So. Who is he?"
I paused. Not because I didn't want to tell him, but because saying it out loud made it too real. Too raw. But Leo was waiting.
"Theo."
Leo let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Of course it's a Theo. Sounds like the kind of guy who wears a leather jacket in July."
"He doesn't own a leather jacket."
"But if he did, he'd definitely wear it in July."
I rolled my eyes, but somewhere in the middle of that, I found myself smiling. Just a little. "He left me on read."
Leo was quiet for a second. Then: "Ouch."
"Right?"
"Brutal."
"Thank you."
"But also," Leo said, "maybe he's just, I don't know, doing normal human things? Like eating? Sleeping? Not being glued to his phone like someone I know?"
I flopped back onto my pillows. "Maybe."
"Or," he added, "he's part of a secret government operation and had to go undercover."
I snorted. "Oh, totally. That seems way more realistic."
"Glad we're on the same page."
The music was still playing in the background, low and dreamy now.
Then Leo said, softer, "Look, El, you know I love you, right?"
I blinked, thrown by the shift. "Yeah…?"
"So with that love in my heart, I'm gonna say something important." He paused. "Close the chat. Step away from the phone. And for the love of all things good in this world, donot stalk his last seen."
I gasped, but mostly out of instinct. "How dare you—"
"I know you, El. You're probably five seconds away from downloading a tracking app."
"Pfft. As if I would—" I paused. "Wait. Are tracking apps free?"
"Elara."
"Fine, fine. I won't."
"Good." He exhaled. "Now go do something actually fun. Like, I don't know, eat dark chocolate and stare at the moon or whatever it is you moonchilds do."
I smiled. "You're so annoying."
"It's a talent."
I hung up, feeling... lighter. The message was still there. Still seen. Still unanswered. But for some reason, it didn't sit as heavy anymore.
At some point, I drifted off without meaning to.
I woke up in the worst possible way.
To silence.
Now, most people wouldn't consider silence offensive, but in my house? It was practically war drums. Loud silence meant Mom was either
(A) giving my dad the cold war treatment
(B) already gone
(C) planning her dramatic exit like she was the lead in some Netflix melodrama.
My money was on option B.
I groaned and rubbed my face. The ceiling fan spun above me in slow motion, like even it couldn't be bothered today. As for my dad? Who knows. Maybe he was home. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe he ran off to start a secret underground poker club. At this point, nothing surprised me anymore.
I reached for my phone again. Desperation? Maybe.
1 new message from Leo.
I opened it, bracing myself.
LEO: Rise and shine, emo gremlin. Time to be an active disappointment to society.
I shut my eyes. Inhaled. Manifested inner peace.
Then, with the patience of a saint, I replied.
Me: You wake up every morning and choose violence.
Leo: And yet, you continue to associate with me. Fascinating.
Me: Unfortunately, jail time is frowned upon, or you'd be gone already.
Leo: Love you too, pumpkin muffin.
I sighed, tossing the phone onto my bed. This was my life: a dramatic mother, an emotionally MIA father, and a cousin who should legally come with a warning label.
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten. With an unholy amount of effort, I dragged myself out of bed, pulled on an oversized hoodie (my signature uniform), and shuffled to the kitchen.
I opened the fridge.
Empty, of course. Because why would life be kind?
Sighing, I grabbed a slice of bread and started munching on it dry.
Living the dream.