They had an afternoon planned, just wandering, I think. Nothing special.

She calls just after noon.

Ring.

Ring.

And ring again.

It takes Matteo a moment or two of hovering over the phone before he decides to pick it up. He's hesitant, as if it'll bite him if he touches it. Finally, though, he lifts the receiver, holding it carefully to his ear.

"...H'lo?"

"'Teo?" We'll assume she picked the nickname up somewhere.

"I-" And she doesn't know how to start this sentence.

Well, whoever it is, they know his name. Matteo isn't sure who's calling. Voices sound so different on the phone that he can't be sure.

"...Who is this?" he asks, as politely and cautiously as he can.

((Thought we were setting this a couple weeks into friendship, after a couple random-boring-awkward meetings we weren't 'playing out? *is confused now*))

((...Totally don't remember that. -.-' *edits*))

Silence.

"Oh, god, sorry. This is Sam." Another pause. "And you're Matteo... right?"

I'm not sure which of them would hang up quicker if they ended up talking to a complete stranger.

"Oh. Oh. Sam. Right. Yes, this Matteo - er, me,... whatever."

He starts toying with the phone cord like a nervous teenager, twisting it around his fingers, around his wrist...

"Um,... so,.. what's new?"

"I, yeah, can't make it. For later."

Awkward.

Because later would have entailed, like, lunch. Or something. She doesn't know. It probably would have been fun.

"Thought I should let you know, rather than, like, disappearing."

"Oh."

He sounds vaguely disappointed, but , well... he couldn't - or shouldn't - really be doing anything anyway. Not after being hit by a car and not knowing exactly what was wrong, or whether it just hurt and wasn't serious.
However, he doesn't mention this.

"Why can't you?"

"I...."

Pause.

"Something bad happened, so I'm staying inside and drinking hot chocolate and stuff. So... going out, it just wouldn't...."

Pause. So very bad at explaining.

"Just don't feel up to it today." There's a vague urge to suggest, maybe next week? But she doesn't know what'll happen then, and she has a paper due, and Jetta'll probably think of something she simply has to have, and....

Scheduling is tricky.

The phone cord is getting tied into impossible knots, now.

"I... see. Well, that's okay. I probably couldn't've made it today, either... Maybe -" I could come over? "-next week, then?"

"You... couldn't?"

Sam's oddly hurt by this, because what else would she expect? She isn't that important to anyone.

"I... what's wrong?" Her own issues are nothing. Nothing at all. Maybe she can help?

Next week is dismissed in favor of her paranoia, for now.

"Nothing, really..."

The phone cord is now one big twisted knot. He stops playing with it, and instead starts fidgeting with the unused pen and pad of paper he keeps near the phone.

"Just, I think I ought to take it easy,... I kind of got hit by a car a couple of days ago."

Silence, broken by a low gasp.

"Oh my god, Teo, are you okay? I mean, god."

Being hit by a car? Ow.

"Mm,... pretty much. I don't think I broke anything," Matteo replies, with an attempt at cheerfulness.

He doesn't think he broke anything, but he does regret not accepting the offer of a spell-induced mending from the guy whose car he'd collided with. It's occurred to him that it might be a good idea to go see that Alan person..., but he's not been able to convince himself to go.

"You don't think you-" Pause. "'Teo, why haven't you seen a doctor and made sure?" He's a sane guy, surely he must have a sane reason for not checking.

If not? Geeze.

"Well, I... don't want to..." is his lame, rather pitiful-sounding excuse.

At least it's true, and not a blatant lie (all of his lies are blatant - he's a terrible fibber).

Pause.

"Some of them are trustworthy...."

Not all, not all.

But some.

"Car accidents aren't exactly minor, 'Teo...."

She would be lecturing, only she doesn't do that. Pleading, maybe. She's worried, now.

It's actually easier to worry about him than to brood about... that other incident.

"I know, I just... I don't know..."

He sounds more uncomfortable as the seconds pass.

"I don't... want to go alone."
The last (and first) time he'd been to see a doctor, Dave had gone with him.
That doctor, Alan, had seemed nice, really he had.
But... still.

"Um. So!...What happened to you that made it so you couldn't've gone out today?"
Why yes, he is trying to distract her,... not that he doesn't actually want to know what's the matter.

"Don't you have... someone? I mean...."

It's her impression that he does have friends.

"I... met this creepy kid, and I just don't want to run into him again, so I'm holing up indoors."

Very much more to the story than that. She doesn't really want to talk about it.

"Nothing special."

I certainly hope that kind of thing doesn't happen to her on a daily basis... eesh.

"...I don't want to bother anyone."

Matteo starts scribbling interlocking circles on the pad of paper, then loops, then some more loops...

"You aren't - he didn't hurt you, did he?"
Matteo is under the impression that normal people, i.e. anyone who isn't him, don't hide in their homes just because they met someone creepy. Something had to have happened.

"Not even bruised."

Right. That explains her arms, which are so very not bruised.

Yeah.

Sam? You are a lying liar.

"Look, do you...." There is a long pause.

Deep breath.

"Want me to go with you?"

This is a great sacrifice on her part. But. God. She can't not help. She can't risk losing a friend to her own selfishness.

Pause.

"Would you?" Matteo asks hopefully.
He wouldn't be looking forward to going, but at least with her along, he would go.
"Oh, ... oh, wait, no..." The hopeful tne sinks away. "You're staying in,... you can't."

"Look, we'll." Pause, she's thinking, trying to figure some way to work this.

"I'll meet you... somewhere. And we'll go and see a doctor. And then we'll go back to my place and have cocoa."

Yes? Please say yes.

Any resistance, and the plan will crumble. She's like that.

"That sounds,... good."
He nods (though she can't see him), and his smile is audible in his voice.

"When?"

"Um... where we were planning to meet? Elm, 1 o'clock?"

Gives her time to get dressed, find her contacts, wash her face (crying needs to be hidden, see).

Gives her time to collect herself.

"Elm, 1 o'clock... Yep, that sounds fine."
He scribbles the place and time on the pad of paper, in a small blank space that hasn't been overrun by scrawling.

"...See you then, I guess?"

"Yeah. See ya."

And she hangs up. And it is a great relief, because talking to people is a nervous, nervous thing.

((Next thread of this'll need Kiki, yes?))