Yes, the new cancer is Uncle Zack's chilli... don't eat it! No!!!!! Just read the chapter yo.
On this one occasion she was feeling a mixture of at least three different emotions that she could name. For one, she felt rather guilty about the fact that she didn't have enough courage to pick up the phone and simply dial his number but she was sat there, watching the phone expectantly, waiting for him to call her. She edged closer to the telephone.
Secondly, she was feeling somewhat sad. She hadn't heard from him since the end of July and it was now early September. She leaned backwards a bit, recalling that one telephone conversation they'd shared, wondering if the one she hoped they would have today was going to be better, worse, similar or identical.
And thirdly, she felt rather lonely, sitting in her uncle's house by herself. He'd gone out to work or in other words, he'd gone out to continue with his life. She was sat here, at ten o'clock on a Saturday morning in her reversible, blue and brown coffee-stained Howies hoodie, staring at the phone, waiting for someone who'd probably forgotten all about her to call. Wait, no, that was wrong. She wasn't sitting in front of the phone, waiting for him to call.
The clock propped up on the mantle ticked away, noisily counting down the seconds, minutes, hours, possibly even days. How long had she been sitting there, staring blankly at that stupid electrical contraption? A groan escaped her and she flattened herself against the polished wooden floor of the living room. Her mind began to race, coming to a number of insane conclusions.
She stared at her fingers for several long moments, counting away the days she'd been waiting for the phone to ring. She counted fourteen and let out a low whistle, two whole weeks of waiting and still no call! He must've forgotten about her, she decided although she didn't much like that thought. Or perhaps she had died, that would explain her lack of communication with the outside world; everyone else was alive and she was dead.
In fact, she couldn't recall having anything to drink recently and if she'd been waiting for fourteen days then perhaps she'd died of dehydration! It was a proven fact that if one went for three days without drinking anything that they would die. She smiled, feeling quite pleased with herself for stumbling upon such a logical explanation for his not calling. And then she thought of something.
Grabbing the receiver, she dialled his number feverishly. Maybe he wasn't able to phone her (perhaps there was a special phone number for dead people) but maybe she could phone him. And despite her eagerness to hear his voice, she hesitated to press the silver button with the green phone on it.
For a long time she was just sitting there, staring at the receiver, wanting to call him but fearing what would be or said or, more importantly, what wouldn't be said. She bit down on her lip. And that's how she fell asleep, sprawled out on the floor, receiver in hand and her two front teeth biting down on her bottom lip.
To love deeply in one direction makes us more loving in all others. - Anne-Sophie Swetchine
He seemed distant today. He wasn't facing her but staring into the distance, almost expectantly. She bit her lip worriedly. Never before had they experienced so many awkward silences in one conversation but then again... never before had one of them been moving to a different state. She sighed and looked down at her feet.
"Dee," he started but then stopped, not knowing what to say to make her look happier. He looked away. He always knew what to say but not this time. Maybe he wouldn't ever again.
"You'll visit me in Illinois, won't you?" She was looking at him now but he couldn't bring his gaze to meet hers. She sounded so hopeful and made him ache.
"Yeah, sure," he replied flippantly. She flinched. It appeared that he didn't care. She held back the tears by sniffing deeply. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound so... I will come and visit you, whenever I can."
"Forever... right?" She held her pinky-finger out for him to shake it.
"Forever," he agreed.
They sat like that for some time, their pinkies entwined, their gazes locked on each other. And then it was time go. All of a sudden, forever was gone.
Delilah awoke, somewhat startled and unnerved. She grumbled to herself, feeling irritated. She'd let herself slip up again. Letting him slip into her dreams once again. She grumbled again and straightened out her hoodie and pulled the hood over her head. She hoped she looked particularly menacing because she was in a rather homicidal mood. In fact, she might just kill the next person who walked into the house. Then she'd have someone to be dead with.
As if on cue, the door began to click and she edged away from the telephone and poked her head into the hallway, watching the door with a cynical grin on her face. She tried to hold back her maniacal laughter. Uncle Zack entered the house. She groaned inwardly, she couldn't kill him or she'd have to pay the bills herself. Maniacal laughter overtook her and she collapsed onto the ground.
"Now I know that my secret ingredient works..." Zack muttered as she passed him.
"You're what?" Dee asked, her laughter ceasing immediately.
"It was in the rice," Zack chuckled. He paused. "Want some chilli tonight?"
"I ain't eating any more of your food!" Dee exclaimed. "I think I'll be going out tonight."
"Even if -"
"Even if it means changing out of my pyjama bottoms," she nodded. Zack raised his eyebrows. Was his chilli that bad? Honestly? HELL YES.
Author's Note: The chapter title is from the song "There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Thought Of It Yet" by Panic! At The Disco. And, be glad... this chapter was almost quoteless! Sob, sobbity, sob. Oh well, go R&R because you know I love you... deep... deep... DEEEEEEP down. Ahem.