Dewey wasn't doing much of nothing on his phone, until it rang in his hands. It was Angie. She never called. She knew what kind of phone plan he had.
"Hey, what's up." He leaned back on his pillow of his made bed. Actually, he never slept under the covers. Instead, he kept it pretty neat, all tucked in.
"What are you doing right now?"
"I was trying to shave." He never lied. He'd never lie to Angie.
She said nothing for the longest time.
"Hey, are you OK?" He propped himself up, thinking something was wrong.
"I dunno." Her voice cracked.
"What's going on?" He didn't mean to sound so alarming. But he could tell she was crying.
"I just..." It was as if the rest of the sentence stuck in her throat. "There's this guy."
"What about him?" At first he wondered if she'd been kidnapped.
"He's here." Her voice was tense. "Can..can you come over?"
He looked at the time. It was past his bedtime. His sister would have a fit if he upped and ran to Angie's house.
"What's happening?" He wanted to know.
"I..I guess its just me." Angie finally said. " I mean, he..he wanted me to go to one of his concerts. And..and I told him I couldn't. And..and now he's here. In our livingroom. I don't know why."
"Don't go." Those were the two simplest words Dewey could think of. "I mean, if you don't want to go. Just say no."
"You know, how I feel about you." Dewey knew it was no time to act all cool. "But, if.." Dewey bit his bottom lip, fearing she'd take it all wrong. Before he could say another word, she hung up on him.