Chapter 11: This Camellia

"You did what?" Rachel nearly chokes on her beer, her eyes wide with delight.

I groan, pulling my knees up to my chest as I sit on the couch. "I gave Ethan my number."

Rachel stares at me for a beat before breaking into laughter. "Oh my God, you actually did it. You just wrote it down? On his hand? Like some high school rom-com?"

"I panicked!" I wail, covering my face with my hands. "I don't know what came over me! One second, I was asking if he was okay, and the next, I was committing full-blown acts of bravery!"

Rachel nudges me with her foot, grinning. "That's not bravery, babe. That's pure, unfiltered dumbass energy."

I peek at her from between my fingers. "Is it bad?"

"No," she says, taking another sip of her beer. "It's cute. And it's so unlike you, which makes it even cuter. But now we wait for the big question—has he called yet?"

I frown. "No."

Rachel wiggles her eyebrows. "Maybe he's playing it cool. Gotta keep the mystery alive, you know?"

"Or maybe he thought it was weird and now he's regretting every interaction we've ever had," I mutter, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between us.

Rachel scoffs. "Oh, please. The guy buys a lollipop from you every single day. If anyone should be embarrassed, it's him. You just evened the playing field a little."

I let out a long sigh. "Maybe."

Rachel pats my knee dramatically. "Don't worry, if he doesn't call, we'll find him and make sure he knows the rules of romance."

Just as I'm about to respond, my phone vibrates loudly against the coffee table. Rachel and I both jump, staring at the screen like it might explode.

"Unknown number," Rachel breathes, looking at me with wide eyes.

My heart rate skyrockets. "Oh my God, what do I do?"

Rachel grabs a pillow and shakes it at me. "Answer it, obviously!"

With a deep breath, I swipe to accept the call. "Hello?"

A thick Mexican accent comes through the speaker. "Hola, miss! We have a buy-one-get-one-free pizza deal tonight, and—"

I hang up and throw my phone onto the couch. "I hate everything."

Rachel wheezes with laughter. "I'm dead. I'm actually dead. You really thought—"

I groan and flop backward onto the cushions, staring at the ceiling. "I'm going to bed."

Rachel wipes a tear from her eye. "Don't let the pizza man haunt your dreams."

I chuck a pillow at her and march to my room, determined to pretend this night never happened.

Ethan's POV

I stare at my phone. It stares back.

The numbers inked onto my palm are slightly smudged now, but I can still make them out. Lily's number. Given to me in the middle of a parking lot. By her.

I don't know what to do with that information.

I run my thumb over the digits, my knee bouncing up and down. I should call. Or text. Something. Anything.

But what would I even say?

Hey, it's Ethan. Thanks for the number. Also, thanks for noticing I'm a mess. Super cool of you.

Yeah, no. That's dumb.

I throw my phone onto the bed and run a hand through my hair. This shouldn't be a big deal. It's just a number. Just a girl. Just... Lily.

I exhale sharply and grab the vodka bottle from my nightstand, twisting off the cap. Maybe if I don't think about it, it won't feel so big.

The first sip burns. The second one settles. The third just makes me think of her more.

I groan, flopping back onto my pillows. Maybe tomorrow I'll figure out what to do.

Tonight, I'll just pretend I'm not fidgeting like an idiot over one simple phone number.

Lily's POV

It's past one in the morning when my phone vibrates against my nightstand, dragging me out of sleep. I groan, fumbling for it with half-lidded eyes, barely registering the unknown number flashing across the screen.

"No, I don't want your goddamn pizzas," I mumble, voice thick with sleep.

A deep, groggy chuckle comes through the speaker. "I don't sell pizza."

My eyes snap open.

I know that voice.

I sit up quickly, heart pounding just a little. "Ethan?"

"Yeah," he says, his words slightly slurred. "Sorry for waking you."

I rub my eyes. "It's okay. I—" I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the phone. "I was kinda expecting you to call."

There's a pause, then a slow exhale. "Sorry for keeping my maiden in waiting," he says, voice warm with amusement.

I giggle, tucking myself deeper under the covers. "You sound different."

"I had a little something to drink," he admits, his words unhurried.

I frown slightly. "Just a little?"

He lets out a soft hum. "Enough."

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "Well, I'm glad you called."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He doesn't reply right away. I hear him shift, a rustling sound through the speaker, and then a quiet sigh. "Didn't know what to say if you picked up."

I play with the hem of my blanket. "And yet, here we are."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Guess I couldn't help myself."

I grin. "You don't regret calling, do you?"

"No," he says after a moment. "Not even a little."

My heart flutters unexpectedly. "Good."

The conversation slows, both of us caught in the strange, quiet comfort of the moment. I let my eyes close, listening to his steady breathing on the other end.

I yawn. "I should probably—"

"Don't hang up," Ethan says suddenly, his voice quieter now. "Just... stay for a little bit."

Something in his tone makes my chest ache. I nod, even though he can't see me. "Okay."

So I do. I stay.

And before I know it, sleep tugs at me again, my phone still clutched in my hand, Ethan's quiet breathing the last thing I hear before I drift off.