PitbabeS2, Chapter 4 pg11

 pg11

   “Done talking work already?”

   (Yep. Done. Now just sitting around, wondering if I should head home.)

   “You could hang out there for a bit, no? Going home alone might feel lonely.”

   (And when are you coming back?)

   “Evening, probably. Should head out around six.”

   (…miss you.) Babe’s voice softens, and with the background noise getting louder, I can’t quite catch what he says.

   “What was that?”

   (I said, I miss you.) He probably thinks I’m pretending not to hear, so he repeats it slowly, clearly, with a slight sarcastic tone—but it’s cute.

   (Stop being deaf, please.)

   “I really didn’t hear,” I chuckle. “But I hear you now. Miss you too.”

   (Such perfect manners.)

   “I miss you, Babe. I miss you even before you miss me.”

   (Okay, thanks), Babe ended the conversation easily, satisfied with the response he got. (Another question.)

   “What’s that?”

   (Will you still love me if I’m a worm?)

   “What have you been watching now?”

   (Answer), Babe said in a firm, worm-version voice.

   “What kind of worm?”

   (Is that important?)

   “If it’s some weird worm, I’d be scared.”

   (You jerk, Papa.)

   “But if it’s a little Babe worm, I wouldn’t be scared. I’d keep it in a box, hang it around my neck, and take it everywhere.”

   The laughter that came through was a sign that my answer pleased the person on the other end, meaning I’d passed one test. I face several of these tests every day, but I have to get through them to prove I really love him. Even if it feels like this proving process won’t end anytime soon.

   (Should we go to the beach?)

   “Come on,” I said, never one to refuse something like this. Even though I knew I might have to keep Phii Touch from flirting with Babe, that wasn’t a big deal. Compared to dealing with a stray cat with a bad attitude nearby, it was nothing. “Want me to pick you up?”

   (No need, I can drive a bit, you know.)

   “Okay, thought you weren’t that good at driving.”

   (I’m decent, decent enough.)

   Babe’s jokes always hit the mark with me. Sometimes, even when he’s not trying to be funny, he makes me laugh easily. This is probably one of those little things outsiders don’t know about Pitbabe. People see him as fierce, arrogant, and always in a bad mood. Few get to see that, in reality, Babe has a great sense of humor and can always make those around him have fun. That tough act? Sometimes it’s just him messing around.

   (Say something sweet, and I’ll come right over.)

   My brain went into overdrive, trying to come up with a killer sweet line to charm the person on the other end. While I was busy juggling flirty banter and the research in front of me, I heard a soft knock on the glass. It came from the front door. The light reflecting off the glass door obscured the face of the person standing there, so I got up from the couch to check.

   Before I reached the door, the reflection that had been hiding his face vanished. I saw him clearly, and for a moment, my body felt frozen.

   He looked straight at me, gave a friendly smile, waved lightly, and mouthed silently, “Can you open the door?”

   I wanted to let him in, thought I could, because he didn’t seem dangerous. If there was anything off, it was his face—eerily like someone who shouldn’t be standing there smiling.

   I could hear Babe’s voice through the phone, but it was too faint to make out what he was saying. My hands couldn’t steady enough to hold the phone to my ear, and more importantly, I wasn’t in the right state of mind to even try.

   “Phii… Way?”

   It was the first time I’d ever seen a ghost.

   

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