Call Me When You're Sober Novels & Stories

“Don’t tell me. I need to eat, shower, and sleep for a week straight before you tell me what I have to do next.” I needed to call Emma and Mia, too. They would believe me. They had to. Someone called me again, and I tossed my phone to Heather. I wasn’t sober enough to have a professional talk, or drunk enough to nod through it. “It says Mom.” I snatched it from her hand and picked up the phone. You never miss your mother’s call. Even if you are on a casting call, in the loo, or death row. “Mom!” I said with fake excitement. My own beaming voice made my headache worse. “How are you? Why’d you call?”

My phone kept vibrating nonstop with notification sounds. Faith stood up and asked, "Messages from Rita?" I glanced at the contact name and nodded. The corners of her lips curved upward into a smile.

Me , the broke and rejected one? But instead I said : "Wow. I don't know what to say, I mean...". "You're going to be rich. Its What you've always wanted", he said ,patting me on the back. "I'll text you the address. Be there by 9am tomorrow morning. The board would like to talk to you". "Let's get a drink or something", I said. "No. No need. I'm on sobriety. Autumn and I decided stop drinking for the health of Dennis Jnr".

So I guess, coming home to an empty house is pretty fitting. She hasn't even come by for her stuff, everything is exactly where she left it this morning. She must be borrowing some stuff from Fran. I should call her. No I shouldn't I'm drunk. Well, I'm not drunk but I'm not sober, I'm at that awkward middle phase where I am probably responsible for my actions but I don't feel like I should be. Fuck it. I sit down on the edge of the bed and dial the phone. It rings, and rings, and rings. I fall back against the bed and let out a sigh, she's not picking up.

"What should-how can I help?" "You need to get home. Is there someone there-someone sober-who can drive you? I don't want you to borrow anyone's car. I don't want you behind the wheel." "I'll figure it out. I'll find someone." I thought of the guy who'd brought me the phone. What the hell had he said his name was? Didn't matter. He didn't look like he was drunk at all. "Don't worry. I think I know someone who can do it."

Move on. We stayed at the bar for another hour, but I barely touched my third drink. I needed to be sober for this. By the time I left, it was almost eleven. I walked a few blocks away from the bar, found a quiet spot near a closed coffee shop, and pulled out my phone. My hands were shaking as I typed out Dean's name. Then I hit call. His voice came through, rough and tired. "Alex? What's wrong?" I took a breath, then let my words slur slightly. "Dean... I... I need help."

He had been visiting me all the while I was in the rehab facility, and he always come with my son, Herzl, but I had never done the good of calling him after the doctor’s put me on test to confirm that I had fallen back to sanity. I knew he would be shocked to see my name of the screen of his phone, because it had been years I last tried his number, after everything I went through in his hands, but I guess he had gotten better, and he should feel lucky to have me call him, and he should understand that there is indeed an emergency. He picked up, and I placed my ear to the phone, putting the phone in speak out, because I can’t take it up my ear with my hands which were on handcuffs.

'''' ''''I don't know. '''Okay, Call me then. If you want this to work call me.''''

I say and I can hear him shushing someone in the background. “So, Tatum, what can I do for you?” He asks, and I can hear that he is drunk. I look at my watch and shake my head. It’s only five o’clock, and he is already drunk. I know he had a game away yesterday and today they are all relaxing, but is it needed to get trashed? “Thatcher, call me when you’re sober,” I say before I end the call and rest my head back on the couch. Before I have a chance to breathe in relief, the phone rings again.

Sofia Adams - March, 2012 I was at an impasse. I promised Anne I wouldn't drink, but just thinking about facing this sober I was starting to break out in a cold sweat. How would I do that? I stopped in the lobby of the hotel, not sure what to do. I could turn right and take the corridor towards the bar or I could go to the front desk and ask for Ethan's number. I had erased it from my cell phone and my memory the last time I expected him to show up and he didn't come.