P.S. I Still Love You

“I thought you hated the whole ‘last call’ thing. Remember? You put it in the contract. You said
that Genevieve insisted that she be your last call every night, and it was annoying.”
He groans. “Can we please not talk about her? Also, why is your memory so good? You remember
everything.”
“It’s my gift and my curse.” I highlight a paragraph and try to balance the phone on my shoulder,
but it keeps slipping. “So wait, do you want me to call you every night or not?”
“Ugh, just forget it.”
“Ugh, fine,” I say, and I can hear him smiling through the phone.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
“Wait—can you bring me one of those yogurt drinks for lunch?”
“Say please.”
“Please.”
“Say pretty please.”
“Bye.”
“Byeeee.”
It takes me another two hours to finish my homework, but when I fall asleep that night, I fall asleep
smiling.