Page 9 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

Bullet—

Bang.

I buzzed myself in,

never bothered to send a text.

Now I’m standing in his building,

knocking on the door again,

my heart gagged with her hands tied behind her back.

The late November chill follows me in as heat pumps high on this floor. The season of the awful in-between—cold breath, hot sweat, body not knowing whether to shiver or faint.

The hallway stinks of takeout and cigarette smoke. And somewhere, a baby’s crying behind the thin-ass walls.

I look down at the screen.

Again.

I read it.

Again.

Today 8:28 AM

973-555-0194

Hey. Thanks for showing up yesterday

Thanksgiving meant a lot

My moms won’t shut up about you

I kill the screen and shove my cell into my jacket pocket.

I’m about to knock again

when the door yanks open.

He’s stunned to see me,

confused stare piercing mine.

My lungs let go first.

My shoulders, second.

Then I look my bullet in the eye.

“Brandon.”

He steps back, opening the door wider.

I disappear inside.

// 24 HOURS EARLIER //