The Phone CallMature

Dylan

The city has been quarantined. Please remain indoors until it is safe enough to go outside. We will keep you posted with hourly updates as the evening goes on, but for now, please remain calm. Thank you, and have a safe eve—

I shut the television off at the end of the anchorwoman’s drawn out monologue. The city is quarantined, and all I want to know is why. Instead, the broad is telling me to stay indoors without an explanation. This is why I never watch the news.

If I knew I would be stuck inside for the rest of the night, I would have invited someone over, enjoyed a nice, cool beer, and wrapped us in Etan’s sheets until sunrise, or until Etan came home. No, definitely until sunrise.

Speaking of Etan, this is the first time I feel concerned for his whereabouts. Shouldn’t the quarantine tip him off that he should be home? If this was any ordinary night, I wouldn’t mind, but my parents would flip if Etan got sick, or injured, or whatever the hell this quarantine was for.

I am still slumped lazily on the couch, but decide to stand up and snag my phone from the coffee table. Maybe I should be a little more worried.

I slowly dial my brother’s phone, tapping each key with an odd mixture of nonchalance and concern. I hold my phone up to my ear, and slump onto the couch once again.

“Hello?” Etan’s voice answers.

“Etan? Where the hell are you?” I ask him.

“I’m sorry. Who is this?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. The city’s under quarantine; you should be home.” Is he trying to agitate me.

I hear Etan mumble to someone, and I’m sure that he’s trying to mess with me, “Is this some kind of jo—!”

“Hello?” a girl’s voice steals the phone from Etan. Her inflections are sharp and unnatural.

“Who the hell are you?” I ask, stamping my foot impatiently.

“I’m Sedona, one of Etan’s,” she hesitates for a moment, “friends.

“I don’t care what you are, just tell my brother to bring his ass home right now!”

Oh,” she pauses to assess the situation, “you’re Etan’s brother Dylan, right?”

“Obviously! Etan knows who the hell I am!” I’m simmering with irritation.

“Um, well, something’s wrong with Etan. I think you should see for yourself. I’ll bring him home, and I’ll talk to you from there.”

“Something’s wrong? What do you mean something’s—” the phone hangs up on me, forcing me to toss it at a wall in anger.

I grunt and stand up immediately. I sure hope this is still some prank, because I will kill him for this.

The End

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