I bike home with the bill in my pocket. I fumble to put my keys in the lock. Why are my hands shaking? It's just a number. I use my right hand to stop the shaking. I put my bag down and walk into the living room. I slump into the couch and take the bill out. 496-745-8238
Coron comes downstairs and sees me.
"What's that?" He asks me,
"Nothing important" I tell him. He looks at me.
"Alright, it's clearly not but if you don't want to tell me, I'm not gonna force you." I sigh,
"A customer at work gave me her number."
He sits down beside me.
"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?"
"It should be! But my hand won't stop shaking and I don't know why? I should be happy shouldn't I?"
"I'm gonna spit some facts, is that all right with you?"
"Go ahead."
"There's no one way to feel about something, the human mind is way too complex to narrow it down like that. What I think is, you're afraid of commitment. Of wanting someone, of relying on someone. Mom's not exactly here to do stuff for us, and I don't fault her for it, someone's gotta pay the bills. You've mostly been on your own for most of your life. You can rely on me to some extent like I'll have your back, but not in any meaningful way. You're afraid to feel something. I think you should pick up that phone and call her."
".....DAMN BRO, HOW THE HELL YOU SO SMART."
"IT'S NOT BEING SMART. IT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN STUDYING!"
"....thanks."
"You don't need to thank me, I'm sure you would have done the same."
"No I wouldn't haveeee" I say as I walk away.
"You asshole" he says as he throws a pillow at me.
I lie in my bed. It's 7:30. Is it too late to call her?
She was out at Tripper around 6:30 so, it's probably not. I dial the number and my hand starts shaking again. I manage to push dial. The phone rings and rings until
"Who is this, where did you get this number?"
"Oh I'm sorry I must've dialed the wrong numb-"
"I'm just messing with you, how's it hanging! I'm guessing you are the guy from Red's Refined Records, right?"
"Yeah I am."
"Well, my dad says not to talk to strangers, but I think we've met enough that we're barely strangers to each other. So I think it's fine if I tell you my name! My name's Leslie, but with a Z! It's hip and cool like that. What's your name?"
"Jacob, Jacob Laban. It's nice to meet you Lezlie." I've never really noticed it but she's got spunk to her. Like she's always excited to do something.
"So what do you think of Mr Lam?"
"Mr Lam? Wait do we have the same class?"
"Yep! All four! I was waiting for the right time to say something but it uh, never came up. Speaking of coming up, there's a party in an hour, you wanna go?"
"You wanna go with me? But you barely know me! I could be a serial killer!"
"It's bold of you to assume that's not my kink. It's not, but bold of you! Anyways, I don't really have, friends, so you're the next best thing!"
"Thanks. I'll go. I've never been to a party before."
"You've never been to a party before? Neither have I. So this should be fun!"
"This is either going to be the best thing I've ever done or the worst mistake of my life."
"Why not both!?!"