Page 28 of Take Care, Taylor

Where have you BEEN today?

Pick up your phone, Cece!!!

Ibalanced my laptop on my knees and searched for “how to be cordial with someone you despise” before calling Cecelia for what had to be attempt number twenty.

It rang once.

It rang twice.

“What the hell, Audrey?” she answered.

“Well, finally!” I said. “I could’ve been dying in the hospital and you would’ve been the last to know.”

“You’re so dramatic. You should’ve totally pursued acting.”

“I could’ve beendead!”

“It’s four in the morning, Audreyyyy.” She whined. “Are you actually dying right now?”

“No, but it sounds like you are.” I paused. “Have you been drinking?”

“Um, duh. Hold on for a second...” The line went silent for several seconds, and then I heard the sound of a potato chip bag crinkling.

I didn’t have to be there to know it was a bag of Hot Cheetos that she would soon mix with Sour Patch Bears “just because.”

“Now that you’ve interrupted my sobering-up process,” she said, “what do you want?”

“It’s my roommate,” I said. “I haven’t had the chance to talk to you about it at all.”

“I told you to reach out beforehand.” She munched on chips. “Does he give off serial-killer vibes or something?”

“No, he’s?—”

“I danced with this guy who was wearing a Freddy Krueger mask tonight,” she interrupted. “I could feel something pretty impressive back there. Oh! And next time you’re home, I have to take you to this new ‘candy and shots’ bar at happy hour.”

I gave up on talking to her when she was drunk; she wouldn’t remember most of whatever I said anyway.

“You miss me, huh?” she asked. “Is that why you’ve been calling so much tonight?”

“Yeah.” I held back a sigh. “That’s it.”

“Well, I miss you too, cousin!” There was a smile in her voice. “I’ll try to come visit in a month or so.”

“I would love that.”

“Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!” She buzzed like a bee. “Guess who just got a brain alert?”

She probably won’t be sober for another two days…

“Uh, hello?” she asked. “Are you there?”

“Not for long…”

“Aunt Lydia got some royalty checks from your parents’ old publisher,” she said. “They were mailed to her address for some reason. Want me to pick them up, or do you want her to hold them?”

“You can pick them up whenever you get a chance,” I said. “Preferably on a weekday with no parties.”

“Of course. Well, now that we’ve established that we miss each other, can I go back to sleep?”