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Chapter 11 : Mulling Sessions and Late Night Phone Calls
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The next day I was still mulling over Freddy’s little disappearance act. It was definitely strange; I mean, one moment he was there and the next he wasn’t. What the fuck kind of Houdini mumbo jumbo was that? And that crack! noise; what the hell was that all about?
Throughout all of my mulling, I couldn’t help but be royally pissed at Freddy. I mean, how dare he do something like this! How dare he commit an act that would cause so much mulling and overall madness on my behalf? What an inconsiderate, stupid git! There was no way that he didn’t do this on purpose just to annoy me. I mean, it wasn’t exactly a secret that I hated not being in the know and that my nosy nature tended to get the best of me.
A cruel bloke, that Freddy Weasley.
After cursing Freddy to a life of misery and doom, I decided that all of this mulling wasn’t doing me any good on an empty stomach. So I went to the kitchen. And I ran into my mum. Time seemed to standstill. Un-pleasantries were exchanged internally. But the message got across regardless. We stared some more and then we went our separate ways. She left the kitchen; I ate a spoonful of peanut butter and a handful of chocolate chips that she uses for baking. I returned to my bedroom shortly afterwards.
I probably should have been more upset but I had more important things to worry about than a falling out with my mother. Like the thing with Freddy Weasley. Much mulling was in store because I hadn’t the slightest idea what it could possibly be. In fact, it was bothering me so much that I even considered talking to her about it but after some mulling on the subject, I didn’t dare. The cold shoulder she was giving me each encounter we had that day made it very clear that she was still mad because of the comment I had made yesterday.
Some people are just so touchy.
I mean, I didn't think it was that much of a big deal, but whatever.
So after a good and proper mulling session that lasted about forty-five minutes of good and proper mulling, I decided that this crack! phenomenon that seemed to occur around James and Freddy was due to the fact that they were Non-Muggles.
…whatever that was.
Which led to my next course of action:
Hardcore Google Search.
I do not know if you are aware of this, but I am a Hardcore Google Searcher – probably the best in the United Kingdom and all its united kingness. When I Google Search, it is Hardcore and I always get results.
It comes in handy, being a Hardcore Google Searcher.
That unidentified emotion that just coursed through your veins? Yeah, that’s jealousy and it’s totally understandable. If it weren’t for the fact that I was already a Hardcore Google Searcher, I’d be jealous too.
So with my newfound determination and the power of the World Wide Web on my side, I set out to do the impossible:
Find out what the fuck James is.
So I cracked my knuckles (ow, that hurt), sat down in the nifty rolly-chair (ooo, rolly), and went to work.
…And I failed miserably.
I couldn’t believe it! I got absolutely, positively no results when I typed ‘Non-Muggle’ into the little search bar thingy. I mean, even that blinky chick from Twilight got the results she was looking for when she looked up ‘vampire.’ And she’s not even a Hardcore Google Searcher! By contract, my research-esque demands are supposed to be met. But no, it was all like, “oh hey, did you mean ‘non-mega?’” And I was all like, “uh, no, arse-wipe; if that’s what I meant, that’s what I would have typed.” And then I tried ‘Muggle’ – still no results. ‘James Potter’ – nothing. ‘James Potter is a Non-Muggle’ – zip. And then shit went down; the whole confrontation got all messy and in the end, Google was up one point and I still had zero. My day turned into a load of suck as a result.
I mean, it wasn’t fair. I was a Hardcore Google Searcher, damn it! Google was supposed to cooperate with each and every one of my requests!
I was so cheesed-off that the rest of the day was wasted by much sulking and vows to never use the internet again. By seven o’clock my mum was debating whether or not she should take me to a psychiatrist. I told her that she might as well because her slaggish cougar ways were bound to put me there anyway. I was sent to my room immediately as a result and I complied, declaring “I speak the truth!” as I ascended the stairs.
…Yeah, I don’t think she’s very happy with me.
And because I’m so cool, the remainder of my evening was spent lying on my bedroom floor singing “Nights on Broadway” loudly and off-key.
I’m so awesome that I don’t even know how to handle it sometimes.
Ew, sorry, that was weird. I was trying to use some of that strange “text-talk” thing my dad sometimes uses. I have to say, I didn’t dig it much – not doing that ever again.
But regardless, my night was a lonely one. I was all alone – all by my lonesome. My mum didn’t forgive me, James didn’t call and Danny didn’t creep in through my window. This depressed me.
I went to bed a friendless loser.
At three o’clock in the morning I was startled awake by an all too familiar sound: my cell phone ringing. Eyes wide open, thanks to the arsehole who was calling me at such an hour, I stared at the ceiling, counting its many cracks and water stains, waiting patiently for it to stop ringing. And it did. Smiling to myself, I rolled over onto my side and snuggled deeper into the depths of covers I had cocooned myself within. My eyelids began to droop, my subconscious sinking into dreamland…
“SUNSHINE, LOLLIPOPS AND RAINBOWS. EVERYTHING THAT'S WONDERFUL IS WHAT I FEEL WHEN WE'RE TOGETHER. BRIGHTER THAN A LUCKY PENNY, WHEN YOU'RE NEAR THE RAIN CLOUD DISAPPEARS, DEAR, AND I FEEL SO FINE JUST TO KNOW THAT YOU ARE MINE.”
My cell phone was ringing…again.
“Persistent mother fucker,” I grumbled from underneath the covers, trying to ignore the sound.
It stopped. I sighed contently, eyes fluttering shut. Not a minute later, it started ringing again.
“What the bloody hell – no decency – I fucking hate –”
Swearing in what couldn’t anything but tongues, I groggily rose from my warm, comfy bed and traveled to the corner of my room where I had unceremoniously stripped and left my clothes from the day. Reaching into my jeans’ pocket, I pulled out my phone.
“Hello?” I put as much contempt into that single, two syllable word, hoping to convey how displeased I was at being woken up so early.
“I seeeeeee youuuuuu,” the voice on the other end responded. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood up and my heart began to pound.
Holy fucking shit.
The dryness of my throat was making it difficult for me to talk. “Who is this?” I demanded, trying to keep the panic out of my voice and making a conscience effort not to look in the direction of my window. My imagination was conjuring up a serial killer wearing a Scream mask sitting idly behind the glass; I’m not sure why, it just did.
“Your worst nightmare, mwahahahaha.”
I paused for a moment, no longer on the verge of shitting my pants and eyebrows knitted together. “Freddy?”
I groaned and my grip tightened around my cell phone. “Freddy, I am gonna fucking kill you.”
An explosion of laughter sounded loudly in my ear that couldn’t possibly have been produced by a single person. I couldn’t imagine what was so funny: one, I nearly had a heart attack and two, didn’t they realize what time it was? It was fucking three o’clock in the morning and Freddy, along with whomever he was with, was laughing it up as if it were noon. I was so unbelievably furious, but I waited patiently for the hysterics to subside, expelling my rage in the meantime by sending death glares at the stuffed teddy bear lounging on the bookshelf nearby.
It suddenly occurred to me that life as a teddy bear must be a good one; for one thing, they don’t have an irksome parasite attached to their arse named Freddy. And they’re fluffy. And super adorable. And you know what? Russell Jr. probably gets a full night’s sleep every night with no interruptions. A good life indeed.
…Although, maybe not, because Russell Sr. was clawed to death by Chester…
But anyway, being in my current position, being a teddy bear, despite the many treacheries they face, didn’t seem so bad. I considered for a moment just hanging the phone, but I figured that he would call back and keep doing so until I complied so I might as well get this out of the way.
Finally after what seemed like forever, the laughter died down. “Oh Spencer,” sighed Freddy dreamily. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
A look of pure revulsion donned my face. “Fuck you,” I spat.
There was a light chuckle. “I don’t know, love, my cousin probably wouldn’t appreciate that very much.”
“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?” someone said in the background, their voice a little faint in my ears. My heart began to race in my chest upon recognition; I could hear its pulsing in my head. My breath caught in my throat and a shiver rushed through me. I knew that voice, I knew it all too well:
I couldn’t help but hate myself a bit for letting him have such an effect on me. I knew that it wasn’t something I could really control, but still. I wasn’t one of those girls. I didn’t let blokes take over my life, but maybe that was because I usually didn’t have a bloke to do that. I still didn’t like it though. I made a mental note to beg Robyn to smother me with a pillow if I started saying things like, “OMG” and freaking out over a broken nail.
Because if I started to do things like that, well, there would be no other option, only death.
“…know you want me.”
I quickly snapped out of my reverie, realizing that Freddy had been having a one-sided conversation with me the entire time I was thinking about James. “Freddy, is there a reason that you called me?” I cut across before he could say any more, my voice purposefully ice cold.
There was a slight pause. “I dunno. Boredom.”
Any sort of lovey-dovey feeling that had infiltrated my psych had vanished completely and all that was left was homicidal rage. My teeth clenched together. “Yeah, well, take your boredom elsewhere, dickhead. I want to go back to bed.”
“Nope.” The way he popped his lips together at the close of the syllable made me want to reach into the phone and mutilate his face.
“Hang up and the phone and don’t even think about calling me back,” I hissed. I really didn’t want to wake up my mum (that is, if I hadn’t already) but it was getting more and more difficult to control the volume of my voice.
“Hmm, let me think about that…no.”
“Hang up the goddamn phone, Freddy.”
“No, you hang up,” he responded flirtatiously, an imitation of a sickeningly in love couple refusing to be the one to say goodbye first.
“Freddy just hang up,” a voice I didn’t recognize said in the background. The voice was smooth, cool; I vaguely wondered if it was James’s brother.
“Yeah, I told you not to bother her in the first place,” a voice that I definitely recognized as James’s added curtly. He sounded more than a little bit annoyed which made my heart swell with joy.
He is so awesome.
“Oh, quit being such buzz kills, the both of you,” Freddy replied brightly which only made me wish him death more.
I mean, who is this cheerful at three o’clock in the morning?
He must be the Antichrist. There is no other logical explanation.
I closed my eyes and slumped against the wall in defeat. “Just leave me alone,” I practically pleaded, my fire burning out. God, I was just so tired. In so many more ways than one.
“I am not hanging up this phone young lady.”
I sighed. “You know what? If you’re not gonna hang up then just give the phone to someone else; I don’t wanna fucking talk to you anymore.” My voice sounded flat, dead. I wished that I had more energy to put into being mad. In some weird sadistic way, I very much enjoyed being hostile towards Freddy.
“Oh, silly Spencer. You’re funny if you think that I’m gonna – Hey!” From what I could tell from the many grunts and swears that soon followed, someone had taken the phone from Freddy’s possession and now he was attempting to reclaim it. It was quite the struggle, I must say. It lasted what felt like a really long time but was probably only a few seconds until there was a final grumble and then a silent victory.
“I’ll take that, thanks.”
I nearly dropped my phone.
I cleared my throat. “Er – hi, James.”
Well this is awkward…
I tried to think of something to say but nothing was coming to me. It was as if my brain had completely shut down. Something in the back of my mind was telling me that I should be really embarrassed due to the content of our last conversation – or rather my monologue, but I was too tired to put the effort into it. For once, I just wanted a normal exchange with James but that didn’t seem very likely as neither of us were saying anything.
That is, until:
“You’re, like, the weirdest bird I’ve ever met.”
I couldn’t fight the goofy smile that was forming on my face or the fit of giggles that came along with it – I didn’t want to anyway. Somehow his statement didn’t insult – or surprise – me at all. Actually, I would have been more surprised if I wasn’t. You have to be pretty weird if you’re stranger than me.
Once my laughter subsided (which was a little on the hysterical side due to the fatigue), I sighed. “I’m glad that I hold such a special place in your heart.”
I patted myself on the back for still being able to come up with a somewhat intelligent response at such an absurd hour for quick thinking. Just another example of my mad skills. It’s up there with my ability to clap with one hand and separate the chocolate cookie and the cream center of an Oreo.
…This is probably why I don’t have a boyfriend.
“Oh, yes, that place is reserved especially for you,” James replied, expelling a bit of laughter as well.
In the next moment someone – I suspected that it was Freddy – all of the sudden went “Poof!” covering up the insult poorly with a fake cough. The scuffle that immediately followed and the shrilly exclamation of “Ow, you didn’t have to hit me so hard,” led me to believe that James had given Freddy what was coming to him.
I have to say, the imagery that my mind had come up with of the action made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It involved a shirtless James with windswept hair and muscles that had muscles, beating a cowering Freddy to a pulp as he begged for the mercy that would not be heeded.
It should probably worry me that Freddy’s pain causes me joy.
However, I was just too happy to see anything wrong with it.
“James, James, James, James, James,” I squealed, bouncing up and down in an incredibly obnoxious manner that I inwardly attributed to the lack of sleep. “Oh my God, is he – oh my God – is he bleeding? Please tell me he’s bleeding.”
James – joined by the other occupants of the room – laughed at my disappointment.
“Fuck you, Spencer. JUST KIDDING I LOVE YOU AND – ”
“Do you want me to hit you again?”
“I’ll be quiet…proceed with courting your lady.”
“Yeah, I will…over there.”
Wherever “there” was, was far away from Freddy; from what I could tell, James left the room to go into another, closing the door behind him when he finally reached his destination.
“So, um…” Now that he was located in a place where there’d be no interruptions, he seemed to be at a loss as to what to say to me. “Hey.”
Lucky for him, I was as well.
We make a good pair, very articulate.
I figured that this would probably be ten times less painful for us if one of us would just grow some balls and say something. I would have preferred that it wasn’t me, but, well, mouths open, words come out. All and all, shit happens.
“So, er, how’d Freddy get my number?” I asked casually, trying to the mask the heaps of awkward that was just brewing inside of me.
I heard James quietly sigh that signaled to me that he was grateful for my break in the silence. “He stole it from your mum’s contact list on her phone.”
I blinked a few times, staring blankly at Russell Jr. the Teddy Bear. “Er – why?”
“This late night phone call? Let’s just say that it’s the first of many.”
“Oh how exciting.”
You know, except for the fact that it’s not.
James cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, um, so, on our date thing the other day – not that it was a date or anything. I mean, unless you wanted it to be. And by that, I don’t mean that I didn’t want it to be, but if you say that it wasn’t, then it wasn’t, you know? But yeah, the date – I mean, day we spent together, was first rate – much better than all of the Hogsmeade dates – I mean days, I’ve been on. Not that they weren’t good or anything, it’s just that you can only sit through Madam Puddifoot’s so many times without wanting to stab whoever created the color pink repeatedly. But anyway, on the date – day – I also had on a scale of one to ten, a forty-seven – on the fun scale, that is. And I’d really like it very much if you’d accompany me on another expedition of the day nature…unless you want it to be a date…I’m cool with that too.”
…Bloody hell, I think James Potter just word vomited.
A/N Quick update!!! Get excited (but not used to it :P)!!! Sorry for the cliff hanger and the shortness in length, but I hope that you liked the chapter anyway! Let me know what you thought in I review; I love hearing what everyone has to say about the story, characters, etc.
Also, if anyone wants to check in on the progress of future chapters, just check my authors page; you'll get your answer there :D
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize. This includes Twilight (Stephenie Meyer), Google (Larry Page and Sergey Brin - I googled that one :D), Oreos (Nabisco Division of Kraft Foods), Scream (Kevin Williamson) the song "Nights on Broadway" (The Bee Gees), the lyrics to the song "Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows" (Lesley Gore).
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