It felt like I could watch her sleep all afternoon and not get bored. But even after saying that, at one point I could feel myself snoozing as well, most likely influenced by the cradling atmosphere. I was yawning hard, greatly tempted to lie down beside her, when she stirred beneath the sheets.
“Rin...” she muttered the moment she noticed I was there. She sat up, making the blanket fall to her lap. I knew I shouldn’t be looking but I couldn’t help but notice the loosened button and the partly exposed skin below her neck.
“How long have you been here?” Yana asked in a drowsy voice, distracting me from my previous thoughts.
“How are you feeling now? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” I chose to ask the more important stuff first, of course.
“I think I’m better now. It was just a headache and a slight fever. Nothing big,” she answered, trying for a little smile.
Since it was already four o’clock in the afternoon, I insisted that she consume the remaining half an hour to rest. Thankfully, she listened to me and didn’t push through with the study session again after class. At least I knew she was still capable of thinking about herself.
I left for a while to fetch our bags from the classroom and spotted a visitor by Yana’s bed when I came back to the clinic. The middle-aged lady looked at me and that was when I realized who she was.
“Ah, Mom, meet my seatmate, Rin. Rin, my mom,” Yana introduced her the moment she saw me by the curtains. It wasn’t that hard to figure out though; they both had the same eyes winning over the striking difference in hair and complexion.
“Thank you for watching over my daughter,” Yana’s mom said to me. She smiled a little, showing wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. “She does need someone to look after her when she’s being stubborn.” She then turned to her daughter with a concerned sigh.
I smiled at Yana’s look of protest and then answered, “You can count on me, ma’am. I’m quite stubborn myself.” And we all laughed after that.
I was still thinking how Yana must be at home when I arrived at the house. It must be an amusing sight when her mom scolds her for postponing snacks or dinner because of homework. Speaking of home, I made a mental note to ask her about her family one time. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know her more, after all.
I went to my room after dinner and was hoping Yana was feeling better when my cell phone rang. Thinking it might be important, I answered it even if it was registered as an unknown number.
“Hello, Rin?”
“Oh...” It took me a while to recognize the voice from the other line. I also came to know that laugh that filled my silence. My slow reaction was only proof that I haven’t always been good with calls.
“It’s me, Yana. Did you get my text? You haven’t replied yet so I thought of calling you. It made me even doubt for a while if I got your number right from the clinic.”
“H-hey, Yana!” I finally spoke, louder than necessary.
At that point I couldn’t remember exactly how I managed to get through our first call. It was mostly Yana thanking me for before and ensuring that she was feeling fine already. She also mentioned that it was her mom who got the idea of getting my number to thank me. I remember getting embarrassed over it that I ended up saying ‘thank you’ instead of ‘you’re welcome’. Well, the more important thing was my seatmate was back to her healthy self.
After the call, I saw the text messages she was talking about. The first one was telling it was her and how she got my number. I was having dinner then. I received the second one almost an hour after, asking if I got her message. I was probably watching the news or doing chores by then. The third one was a missed call that occurred probably when I was still doing the last of cleaning up or my night routine. Though it wasn’t my fault that I tend to leave my phone in my room because I wasn’t usually expecting to hear from anyone at any given time, I still apologized for the trouble of getting in touch with me.
Since I just had my mind open for disturbance from my persistent and stubborn seatmate in my supposedly peaceful hours, I figured I might as well make the most out of it. It's her, after all, I thought to myself while saving her phone number.
And so I clung to my phone a little bit more that night, wondering, and finally deciding to send replies to her earlier messages; probably to make a point that I got to reply to them, and to prove that I had load in my phone somehow.
And probably... just maybe... to also get a chance to say ‘goodnight’.