Chapter Seven (Part 2)
I don’t realise that I’m tipsy until the cold breeze hits me, as as I drag my phone out of the waistband of my skirt again, the glow of the screen jerks around in front of my eyes. I open up my messenger app and tap out a message with great effort.
I got the goods.
I attach Michelle’s phone number. He types back a minute later.
Thamk yuo
Yuo’re wlecmoe. Nice attempt at spelling some really challenging words there, Jude. Good job.
Haha funny gril
*funny gilr
Fuck **girl
Oh my God, you’re pissed.
Yes !
I watch the typing dots appear and disappear for a minute or two before he appears to give up trying, and my phone comes to life in my palm with a phone call. I bring it to my ear. “Hello?” In the background is the sound of thumping techno music, rustling noises and then the swish of something heavy before his voice emerges from the chaos. “Yes.” He announces. “I’m drunk. Sorry about that, my thumbs won’t text what I want them to text.” He’s got this loose, childish, silly tone to his voice that makes me smile, as it’s a rare privilege to hear him like this.
“You out?”
“I am.”
“Where are you?”
“Uh… Katen… Kater Blau?”
“Are you asking me?”
He laughs. “No, I can’t remember how to say it. I’m somewhere. I’m outside some club.” The music is muffled now, but the sounds of a busy city have replaced it, swirling around him, weaving its distinct melody with the sound of his voice.
“Is it a Halloween party?”
“I wish. Nobody celebrates Halloween in Germany. I’m just out. Tuesday night partying, baby. Oh! You’re at Shane’s house.”
“That’s right.” I settle onto the steps, first flicking a tiny snail off the stone. “Here I am. I’ve been drinking tequila.”
“Bleagh.” He exclaims. “Tequila makes me puke.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah. Even the smell.” He makes another gagging sound and I cover my mouth with my hand. “Stop making that noise or I’ll start puking, you sicko.”
He lets out a loose, easy laugh. “So what’s your costume?”
“I’m a cat.”
“Ah.”
“Very original, I know.”
“A cat.”
“Meow.” I say flatly.
“So… what are you wearing?”
I cough out an outraged laugh. “That’s a bit of an inappropriate question. You’re hardly flirting with me.” As soon as I’ve said it I wish I hadn’t. In my head it was funny, but as soon as it hits the air I curse myself for ever thinking it ever would be. These are the only kinds of jokes that are never funny with him.
An awkward laugh. “Well I dunno. I was wondering what you were wearing, like, costume-wise, that’s all” My face heats up. “Um, like just these stupid cat ears I made and a cheap leather skirt and a corset I stole from a girl I used to know.”
“Cool, cool, cool.”
“Cool.” I wince with the phone against my ear, hearing only a rustle of fabric and a gentle sniff as he continues to say nothing at all.
“This is nice, Evie. It’s cool to call you again.” He says eventually, voice a bit hoarse. Goosebumps travel up and down my arms and legs, but it’s surely thanks to the wind.
“I know.”
“Like, you haven’t been far from my mind this last year.”
I take a slow, shaky breath, suddenly feeling like I’m on another planet, alone on Shane’s front doorstep while the party thumps on on the other side of the wall. “Right.” I say, but only a raspy whisper escapes me.
“I’m only saying this because I’m drunk.” He clarifies. “I obviously wouldn’t dare say it otherwise.”
“Oh.”
“You know how I was in Japan last spring? On the day that we went to see mount Fuji it was so foggy, too foggy to see a thing, and we were so bummed out, but the next morning before we got the train to Kyoto I got up early, like, when the sun was rising, and from the window of my hotel room I could see it, and it was right there, clear and blue, and the sky was red behind it and all I could think of how much I wished that you could see it too. Like, that I wasn’t alone just looking at it. I knew that you’d understand how perfect it was.”
I pause. The sharp autumnal breeze licks over my skin and fallen leaves rustle across the garden. “Jude.” I say softly. “You know that-”
There’s a sudden, loud crackling noise over the line and then a new voice is speaking to me. “Hallo?”
I blink. “Um, hello?”
“Bist du das, Astrid?”
“No – um, nicht? Ich bin Evie.” I cringe.
“Evie! Evie Kilbride.” This new voice is the cheerful, infectiously jolly sort of voice that renders the smile that crawls up my face irresistible. “Yes, and who is this?”
“I’m Jonas.” He announces. “I have heard a lot about you.” and I can hear Jude groan in the background.
“Exclusively good things, I hope.”
“Yes of course, only very good things. Are you partying tonight?”
“Yes! It’s Halloween, Jonas.”
“Ah I see! Do you have a costume?”
“I’m a cat.”
“A sexy cat?”
I laugh, listening to Jude’s distant protests. “Jonas, please, give me my phone.” he pleads.
“You’re too drunk.” Jonas insists. “You’re at risk or saying something stupid. I’ll speak to her. Is it okay if I speak with you, Evie Kilbride?”
“Absolutely, but fair warning, I might be too drunk too.”
“You sound wonderful, my dear. I hope my friend didn’t disturb you.”
“Of course not. We were just chatting nonsense. Are you having a fun night?”
“Oh yes, we are. When are you coming to Berlin? When do I get to finally meet you?”
“Hmm… Maybe soon-ish.”
“I’ve been looking forward to it. You’re famous in our house.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I’ve looked at so many photographs on-” There’s the sound of a struggle, rustles and swipes and then Jude is back again. “I’m sorry, Evie.” He breathes. “We should probably hang up now before he says anything insane.”
“Okay.” I say, and in the background Jonas yells “Send us a picture of your costume, Evie Kilbride!”
“Don’t send me a picture.” He says. “Or do, if you want to… I, uh, never mind. I can imagine without a photograph… or – Christ, sorry. Nothing I’m saying sounds right at the moment. I’m going to go.”
“Alright, see you.” I say. “Enjoy the Katzer Blau.”
“Yep.” He says, and then the line goes dead just as Jonas starts to loudly sing my name.
The next morning, as I rise with an aching head and a mouth that feels like it’s been rinsed with sand, I reach for my phone on my bedside table. He has texted me, one coherent, sober message underneath the barrage of his drunken misspellings.
I’m sorry if I said anything weird to you last night. I remember we talked but I don’t remember what about. I was very drunk. Forgive me. Hope we’re good.
x J
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