Author: eklipsej A jumble of thoughts raced through Tara's head as she stared at the name and phone number she had written down. Willow Rosenberg Jo had gotten Willow's phone number from her cousin Cordy. Why hadn't they thought to ask her in the first place, considering she had grown up in Sunnydale? What conversation could they have been having that Jo even managed to get the redhead's phone number from Cordy in the first place? Why was she so nervous about calling Willow anyway? What would she say? What if Faith picked up the phone? Was Willow even still with Faith? If not would Willow still be interested? Would the redhead even remember her? Well, the answer to the last question at least was a given. I remember all of it...Willow's words echoed in Tara's head. Tara sighed, wondering if maybe she was getting worked up over nothing. The disappointment she felt the last time she had tried calling Willow was still faintly palpable. But the memory of the disappointment also brought back the memory of Jo's "pep talk." Don't think about it Tara, just do it... Knowing that her friend would give her an earful if she didn't make the call, quiet possibly making the trip to do so in person, Tara began dialing. Her fingers froze after hitting the third number of the area code. The California area code. Willow's area code. Willow's phone number was a California number. Willow's in California??? If Tara had remembered to breathe at that particular moment she would have been hyperventilating. Instead she swallowed deeply, though all moisture seemed to have magically disappeared from her mouth. She shook her head, made a small fist-pumping gesture into the air, and mouthed Jo's words to herself. Just do it...Don't think about it...Just do it. Before she could change her mind Tara finished dialing and hit send. It took a few seconds before a connection was made, but when the phone on the other end of the line started ringing Tara didn't hear it. Instead she was startled from her chair by the heavy guitar licks of Bring Me to Life, followed by a loud banging noise and swearing that could possibly make even a sailor blush. |