The Phone Call - Short Story - 1. Chapter 1

‘Causing trouble again, Tom?’ I laugh, leaning back on my chair, my phone headset on.

‘Is she crying?’

I can’t see his face, but I know he is smirking, it’s in the tone of his voice.

I shake my head and smile more despite myself, ‘She only started yesterday, you got to give her a break.’

‘Only yesterday, Pft, I thought she had started this morning!’

I laugh alongside with him. I can hear traffic in the background, cars rushing past him and the screaming sirens of ambulances nearby.

‘You keeping warm, Tom?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, yourself?’

‘Oh, I’m toasty,’ I wiggle my toes in my hard shoes. ‘Need to buy new shoes though.’

‘I know that feeling, I’m gonna get some myself. Saw the big stores in town are showing the big boots.’

‘Oh, the new ones that look giant panda heads?’

‘Nah, man! They look cool. You’re just showing ya age, being all sceptical and that.’

‘Always a pleasure when you call us, Tom,’ I grin. ‘It’s not age, it’s fashion and I’m definitely fashionable.’

‘As much as you can be for a white old person.’

‘Hey, I am not even thirty yet, my laugh lines aren’t too thick yet!’ I laugh, leaning forward on my chair. I can hear some more cars rushing by on his end of the phone and some men shouting loudly.

‘Speaking of,’ I add quickly, still trying to smile. ‘Did you buy any of that face cream, you mentioned last time?’

‘Oh yeah!’ his voice gets a little excited. ‘It wasn’t the brand I wanted but it was similar. I got to give you kudos on that advice, I definitely feel better using it, like my spots are much better.’

‘Ew, spots, minging,’ I grin, sticking my tongue out.

‘Hey, you wish you were this young.’

‘Nah, not really. When I was your age, I was much more disgusting, and smelly, and just ugh,’ I shudder. ‘Bringing back bad memories now. Being a teenager just sucks.’

‘It does,’ he agrees.

It’s quiet. I need to continue my plan of action.

‘So where are you near today?’ I ask, chancing his usual nonchalant answer.

‘I’m outside, yeah,’ he replies.

‘Descriptive as always, Tom, it’s what I like about you, straight to point,’ I say. ‘So, what did you say to the new girl today to make her cry?’

‘I just replied back to her stupid idiotic questions,’ he snorts. ‘White girl wants to feel better about herself and her privilege.’

‘We always have something to strive towards,’ I say. ‘Guilt and that. It’s how they got me to this job.’

‘I bet that minimum wage tastes good every time!’ he laughs.

‘Like royal ham, ha, I did some overtime last week and now I get to treat myself to a 16-inch pizza.’

‘Oh wow, I’ve heard of that, you’re finally living the dream.’

‘You know you could share it with me,’ I say. ‘Got to do pepperoni, right? Or chicken?’

Tom coughs a bit and clears his throat, ‘Best one there.’

I frown and click my tongue, ‘Have you been put out the house again for a bit, yeah?’

‘I knew you would ask that,’ he laughs, wheezing. ‘Yeah, I’m out. Dad doesn’t believe fags should have a bed. Just the mere sight of me in the house disgusts him.’ Tom gave a hollow laugh, ‘But it’s fine, it’s just for a little bit, brought a decent sleeping bag with me this time. I have got plans; I can sort myself out.’

‘Has it been getting bad at home for while? How long have you been out this time?’

‘You know how it goes, Sammy,’ he replies. ‘It’s just the same as before.’

‘Could you crash at your aunt’s house tonight? Or one of your friend’s houses for now?’

‘Nah, I don’t want to bother them.’

I pause, tapping my fingers on the desk. I lower my voice to my microphone, ‘You know, if you can meet me at the main train station in town, I could get you into a warm place. There are a few houses that our charity has in the area that can provide a room for you and I can look into the paperwork on…’

‘Sounds too much work there, Sammy,’ he laughs.

‘Shut up, man, there’s the Young People’s Home too.’

‘Let me stop you there, I ain’t sharing with those losers in a dirty house thing, forget it.’

‘Better than the situation with your dad.’

It’s silent. I’ve hit the nerve.

‘It shouldn’t be like that,’ I add. ‘I know I’ve said it before.’

‘You don’t know my life. We’re different. Very different. This is what life is like on our side of town.’

‘Doesn’t mean you deserve to live like that.’

‘This is the part where you say that you guys can help and you put me in a dump care home where I fail my education. Then, according to the statics, I will probably end up being on the streets regardless because I’m dumb gay teenager and eventually, I will get roped into joining a gang or doing some sort of crime. It’s all set out for me.’

‘You’re very intelligent, more intelligent than that.’

‘You know how to flatter me.’

‘I look forward to our conversations you know?’

‘I must be your favourite challenge. The number of times of I have rang and you’re still no further forward. Must be frustrating.’

‘Nah, I just like hearing how upbeat you are when life is hard. It’s very inspirational.’

‘That’s me!’ he laughs.

‘You’re real, Tom, you’re unapologetic, I like that,’ I pause, trying again. ‘Are you staying close by the centre of town today?’

‘I might do, I might not. Whenever I can find a good bench or maybe a bigger doorway.’

‘You should be able to sleep in your own bedroom, Tom.’

‘Yet, here we are. If he’s at home, I can’t be there. He hates me. We both know that.’

I want to offer him my own place. The sofa in my apartment. My two roommates wouldn’t mind. I want to say these words to Tom. I know how it would sound but I just want him to feel warm and safe. I wish theses calls weren’t recorded. He knows I can’t ask this over the phone but maybe, if I could meet him. I could help. Really help him.

It makes me feel guilty that my parents were so supportive of my sexuality and my non binary status when I came out ten years ago.

Some kids like Tom aren’t that lucky.

‘You know I do enjoy our talks, Sammy.’

‘We keep it going,’ I urge, hoping he won’t go. ‘Just say where you are. Even the nearest train station.’

‘I have to go. Until next time, Gadget.’

I sigh as he hangs up. Taking my phone set off, I lean forward on my chair, rubbing my face.

‘Hey,’

Putting my hands down, I look up at my manager, Clare, she gives me a soft smile, ‘Put yourself on break and come grab a hot drink with me.’

Nodding, I log ‘break’ on my work computer and follow her.

I stand there as she makes two coffees in the work kitchen, leaning back against the counter, arms folded, head down. The kitchen has posters all around promoting the charity we work for. To help vulnerable kids.

‘I keep failing him,’ I mutter.

She hands me one of the coffees, ‘You allow him a voice, that’s not failing Sammy. You let him speak and he is heard. You are doing a really amazing job; you need to not kick yourself like this. We will be able to help him.’

I sip my coffee, ‘Is that from the pages of your manager manual, Clare. Inspirational quotes on que.’

She smiles back, ‘Don’t give up on him, Sammy.’

THE END.