Do you know this feeling of wishing to be buried underground like somewhere in one of Egypt's pyramids? But not like to be literally buried like a mummy but you would just be living underground with limitless WIFI, a well-loaded refrigerator, unlimited TV series marathon, and without having to show your face to anyone ever again after a really embarrassing moment?
You have? Good. Because that was exactly how I was feeling on Tuesday morning. My whole conversation with Trevor was on repeat in my mind, making me cringe and shudder at the memory of how idiotic I sounded when I spoke to him.
After giving it much thought, the whole event was becoming more like a pathetic dream rather than something that happened in reality. I was still confused why Trevor Smith actually approached me and I would have definitely confirmed the reasons why if only I hadn't acted so much like a moron.
I picked up my phone to end the noisy alarm and quickly went to check my schedule for the day. An unread message was displayed on the screen of my phone, and my hands slowed at the sight, wondering who the unknown number was.
The content of the message was much more surprising when I tapped it open because there were not many people with my contact. It read: 'Hey, thanks for giving me your number. BTW, don't forget about the drink you promised me. You can send a delivery man, you need my address?'
"What the hell?" I groaned heavily, reading the message again. Eventually, I let out a big groan, frustrated by how each day had its own nonsense to bring with me. I wasn't even done with my pestering roommate's allegations of being in a relationship with a celebrity and the humiliating episode with Trevor. Now, here I was receiving a text from a person I didn't even know, asking me to fulfill a promise.
My fingers hovered across my keyboard and quickly returned a reply intending to clear up misunderstandings. 'Wrong number. Please recheck the number.' I hit SEND and put down the phone before going to the bathroom.
An hour and a few minutes later, I was in the lecture hall, listening attentively to the professor until a beep that had my cellphone vibrate distracted me. I glanced over at my bag where I left my phone on top of some papers, and saw that I received two texts from the same unknown number from earlier.
A light puff left my nostrils as I reached for my gadget. I assumed our conversation already ended with my reply and also including the fact that the sender didn't text back. Well, until now.
'Well, I did as you said but I am very sure I am messaging the right person.'
'So? Will you be sending a delivery guy or not?'
The messages had my dark brows squeezing together, leaving a crease in the center. Who was this person? I stared at the phone for a couple of seconds with that same question filling my thoughts. It also had me questioning whether it was a prank call. What if all those quirky fans of Damon already discovered I was the mysterious girl in the picture and already started their hunt for me?
Knowing how scary fans could be, especially Damon's, I needed an assuring clarification that the sender was anyone but an obsessed follower with clear intentions of harming me.
After a long pause, I decided on what to text back. 'Who are you? Do I know you?' Before hitting send, I took a quick glance around to make sure the professor was not focussed on me.
The sender replied within nanoseconds, the speed of his or her typing causing my eyes to widen. 'Of course. We've met. I don't know your name but I can surely describe you.' And another text followed up almost immediately. 'Black curly hair. Short. Glasses girl.'
The last part called my attention. It sounded familiar, reminding me of that one and only person that had addressed me as such. "Mr. Stranger?" I whispered to myself as I remembered the last time we met. The stranger who gave me a nickname different from the popular 'weirdo' or 'nerd' that I was used to being called.
I knew I was thinking way ahead of myself but I couldn't help but be suspicious of a particular person. I mean, I went around every time with my glasses stuck to my face and anyone on campus could easily describe me like that, right?
I knew all that for a fact but yet, I couldn't help my hands from trembling at the thought of chatting with the popular celebrity, Damon Salvador.
Clearing my throat and mustering some courage, I typed a few words back. 'The first question. Who are you?'
I waited for the response, biting my lower lip at his sudden absence from the chat. It seemed like he was not going to respond anymore after many minutes of waiting, making my nerves twitch. Maybe, I should just forget about it and get back to the lecture. But no, I couldn't do that, not when I was getting so nervous over it.
I looked at the phone screen again and pressed the keys, 'You're not answering. Why?'
There was still no answer and I decided to give up. I definitely thought too big of myself thinking Mr. Stranger/celebrity actually messaged me. That was probably a hoax, a prank, or something along those lines. I sighed and dropped my phone back onto the table.
Just then, the screen lit up once again with a new message from the same person. I picked up my phone quickly again, hoping my mysterious messenger had revealed who he or she was.
But the reply I got this time around took me off guard completely, tying my tongue like a knot, and rendering me speechless with a knocked-out brain.
'Sorry. I was busy staring at you.'
***
