The Call
Beginning of senior year, High School 2007
“Please, Makena! Could you do it for me? You know deep down you want to!” I hear her beg me over the phone, desperately trying to convince me to call her crush for dirt. She usually gets me into deep trouble, even with things I know I shouldn’t do and I doubt this would be an exception. Last year, while she was staying at my house. She talked me into sneaking out and playing chicken with cars... obviously, my mom caught us. I got grounded and my mother still hasn’t trusted me to have her sleep over since. I’m hesitant to agree to her request this time, knowing the potential consequences. As much as I value our friendship, I can’t ignore the nagging feeling that this could lead to more trouble. I must decide if helping her is worth the risk of getting caught again.
My voice is soft as I reply, “Trin, I’m not so sure that is a wise idea...” You see this guy, the one she is begging me to call belongs to the biggest group of popular rich kids in our school. You know the ones I’m talking about? He was friends with all the guys every girl wanted for herself. He was also like all the rest and usually had a different girl on his arm every couple of weeks. Although I have tried convincing her that she could do better, she won’t listen. Her eyes seem focused on him. Calling him could backfire in multiple ways. First, if word got out that I was digging for information on Trin’s behalf, it could damage my reputation at school. Secondly, if he found out about our intentions, it might lead to unnecessary drama and even conflict with his group of friends.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about anything Makena. We will block your number. He won’t know it’s you unless you tell him,” she explains. “I will walk you through how.” I find myself torn between my loyalty to Trin and the nagging voice of caution in my mind. On one hand, I want to support my friend and be there for her, but on the other, the potential fallout from getting involved with this guy and his circle is daunting. The fear of being caught up in another reckless adventure looms large, and I question whether this is a line I’m willing to cross for the sake of friendship.
“How?” I ask rolling my eyes towards the ceiling.
“It’s so simple. All you have to do is hit *77 before dialing his number,” she says sweetly. I had to admit, I was sick to my stomach even thinking about doing this for her.
“Trin, he doesn’t even know you exist. Why do you have to do this to yourself?” I ask her, wondering what his reaction would be if I made the call.
“I just need a chance, Makena,” she whispered. Her voice was tinged with desperation and hope. Despite my reservations, her unwavering belief in this slim possibility tugged at my heartstrings, making it almost impossible to refuse her request. “Plus, I heard him and Jesse talking in the hall the other day about a girl they both find very cute. They were talking about one of them claiming her.”
“Maybe instead of calling him, you could try talking to him in person,” I suggested gently. “You know, casually bump into him after class or join a club he’s interested in. That way, you can make a genuine connection without all the secrecy and risk.”
“No, it’s got to be this way. Please Makena. Listen Ruben told Jesse that the girl they were talking about had been to his church a few times. Mak, I attend his church. You know this, you’ve come to me a few times. I think the girl they were talking about could be one of us.” She exclaims enthusiastically. I stare out my window trying to decide if it was worth the risk to make this call.
“Fine,” I sigh, “I’ll do it. But if anything goes wrong, you owe me one.”
“Oh my god? This is so great!” she exclaims excitedly. “Let’s put the call on three-way so I can hear everything.”
As I picked up the phone, a mix of anxiety and dread settled in my stomach like a heavy stone. My hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade I tried to maintain for Trin’s sake. Despite my reluctance, a small part of me hoped this risky move might lead to something positive. However, the fear of being caught or misunderstood kept my heart racing. Trin mutes her line as I hear the dial tone echoing through the line. I pray knowing this call could change everything. Each ring felt like an eternity, heightening the tension in the air.
“Hello?” I heard his deep voice and my heart sank. This wasn’t Ruben, it was Jesse answering the phone. He was the bad boy in Ruben’s crowd and I was scared of him. He loved torturing girls like me. “Is anyone there?” he asked after I failed to find my voice. I knew I should hang up, but my curiosity got the better of me.
I cleared my throat and spoke up. “Um, hello, is Ruben there?” I asked.
Jesse paused for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by the question. “Ruben? Yeah, he’s around,” he replied, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Who’s calling?”
“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s me Makena.” I replied softly. Even though I was scared of him, I knew I needed to be truthful with him. I had to give him my name.
There was a brief silence on the other end, and I could almost feel Jesse weighing in on his response. “Makena, huh?” he finally said, his tone shifting slightly to mild curiosity. “What do you want from Ruben?” His words were laced with intrigue as if he was trying to piece together why someone like me would reach out to someone like Ruben.
“Oh, I um... called to ask him some questions,” I quickly replied.
Jesse let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by my unease. “Questions, huh? That’s interesting,” he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. “You sure you’re not just trying to get his attention or something?”
“Of course not, I just had a question about our biology assignment. Please Jesse, put him on the phone.” I begged him.
Jesse hesitated for a moment considering whether to grant my request. His amusement waned slightly, replaced by a more contemplative tone. “Alright, Makena,” he finally relented, sounding intrigued by my persistence. “I’ll see if I can find him for you.”
“Hello?” I heard a soft tone on the other line.
“Hey, Ruben. It’s Makena Kindell.” I replied, “You know who I am, correct?”
There was a brief pause before Ruben responded, sounding pleasantly surprised. “Makena, yeah, of course, I know who you are,” he said, his voice brightening with recognition. “This is unexpected—what’s up?”
“Well, the truth is, I am only calling you as a favor for my best friend. She begged me to do this.” I replied softly. “You know Trinity West, correct?”
“Yes, I know who she is,” he growled, and I definitely heard the disgust in his tone. I winced at his harsh voice, feeling anxiety rise. I hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction, and it left me speechless. Gathering my thoughts, I take a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure despite the unexpected hostility. I paused for a moment, trying to come up with an answer. I forced myself to speak, my heart racing. “Anyway,” I said, my voice trembling. “She wanted me to call and ask you if you liked her at all. I guess she overheard you and Jesse talking in the hallway about a girl you both liked. That she attended your church a few times...”
“Who the fuck does she think she is? She shouldn’t be listening in to other people’s conversations,” he growled, making me glad he couldn’t see my reaction. He was angry, his voice seething with rage. I could almost feel the heat radiating from him through the phone. His response took me aback, but I didn’t say anything. I just waited for him to continue. “I don’t like the bitch, okay, and I’d like her to stop stalking me. I am tired of this! It is a violation of my privacy and I want her to back off. Tell her to back off...” he said, his voice still hot with anger. As I was preparing to respond, I heard some rustling noises and then Jesse’s voice was heard again on the line.
“Tell me Makena, did she hear the girl’s name mentioned?” he demanded of me. Caught off guard by Jesse’s abrupt question, I hesitated, unsure how to respond. My mind raced, trying to recall the details of the conversation Trinity overheard. Finally, I stammered, “I don’t think she caught the name, just that there was someone from the church you both liked.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he says. “Makena, do not ever call here again. You cannot talk to another guy, do you hear me? If I hear that you have called him or any other guy I will hunt you down and strangle you. DO NOT DISOBEY ME.” He raised his voice and slammed the phone down as he hung up. I was speechless. I had never heard him speak to me like that before, let alone threaten me like that. I was so scared as I slowly released the breath I held. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear and disbelief washing over me. The anger and threat in Jesse’s voice left me shaken, and I felt a chill run down my spine. Confused and hurt, I struggled to process the conversation, feeling a deep sense of vulnerability and isolation.
“Oh my god, Makena are you okay?” I hear Trinity’s voice break through the silence. The experience of talking to him was terrifying and embarrassing at the same time. Tears streamed down my face as I sat on the edge of the couch. I should have known something like this could have happened when I made the call.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I whispered.
“Makena, you don’t sound okay,” she said softly. “Do I need to come over?” she asked.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just hoping he didn’t mean what he just said to me.” I responded.
Trinity’s voice was filled with concern as she paused, clearly worried about me. “Makena, this isn’t something to brush off,” she insisted gently. “Promise me you’ll talk to someone about this, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with his threats alone.”
“I promise I’ll reach out to someone if it gets worse,” I assured her, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Hearing a knock on my door, I go to answer it. Due to what just took place I do something I normally don’t and peer out the peephole. In a state of utter panic, I bolted my door and whispered back at Trin as I ducked away to hide. “Trin, Jesse is here.” I was so taken aback by Jesse’s unexpected presence as if my deepest fears had just been confirmed. Shaking uncontrollably, my mind races with a million possibilities of why he was standing outside my front door.
