Where Did You Get This Number

I had wanted to remain quiet as I was not in the mood to talk, but after about three minutes I had just remembered something that I blurted out flatly: "Where did you get this number?"

Aaron must have been taken aback when I suddenly spoke after a long silence that he answered with a stammer. "B..Brenda. I asked your number from Brenda."

I pursed my lips. 'Hmm. So it was her. Just as I thought.'

Just as I was pondering on how to punish that girl for giving my number away, Aaron spoke again. "Please don't get mad at Brenda. It...it wasn't her fault. It's...it has been my fault. I've been pestering her for days since that time...she only gave me your number yesterday afternoon. When I got home I tried to call you but the line at the telephone booth was so long. So I waited for my turn not knowing that it was almost ten in the evening, but I still took the chance, in case you were still awake..."

The long explanation had been said continuously without a pause that it took a moment before I could grasp what he was trying to say.

Pestering for days...Long line...Took the chance...

Did he mean that he had been trying to find me, and that right after he got home, without having dinner, he had even waited in line for a long time just to call and talk to me?

I felt warm blood flowing rapidly into the ventricles of my heart as I imagined him waiting patiently beside the public telephone booth with several change in his hands. And now he might have been in the same telephone booth taking the same chance to contact me.

I could hear over the phone that he had just inserted three coins in the slot so that the connection would not be cut. I licked my dried lips in anticipation for his next words.

"I can't stay any longer, Julie. I'm running out of coins. I just inserted the last three coins to spare me three more minutes to say goodnight. I hope I could see you soon and explain everything...I am truly sorry. Hope you could find in your heart to for..." Suddenly the line was cut and all I could hear was the dial tone.

Doot...doot...doot...

I was left immobile, as if in a trance, with the receiver still in my hands and leaning on my left ear. What had he wanted to say before he was completely cut off? For...forgive me? Find in my heart to forgive me? Was that it?

'He wanted to say goodnight...so he inserted more coins to get three more minutes just so he could say goodnight...' I kept repeating the words "say goodnight" over and over again until the corner of my eyes became warm and the deep feeling of care in my heart intensified.

I held the receiver over my chest with both hands, regretting that the connection was cut off and that we have not spoken long enough, worse yet, I have declined to speak to him. The longing to see him increased. I did missed him, really, really missed him. But I tried to deny that feeling as long as I could because I didn't want to be disappointed.

After that call, I resolved to go back to school on Monday. Therefore, I should leave Jasmine Garden on Sunday so I would be back in T City and have time to prepare for school.

With thoughts of seeing Aaron again, I felt a knot in my stomach. Could I face him again even after I tried to ignore him?

That night I couldn't sleep well. I kept on tossing and turning until all my pillows fell on the thick carpet beneath my bed.

I opened my eyes and adjusted my sight to the darkness. There was a faint light coming in from the multitude of stars in the sky. The gentle breeze blew through the gaps of my half-open window, making my lace curtain sway a little. I breathed a sigh. I felt my heart beating fast, sometimes, skipping a beat.

I don't have congenital heart disease, do I? How come my heartbeat is so erratic? I feel all clammy and nervous. I think I need to see a doctor...yes, I really do. I have never had any sleepless nights before. I have never felt anxious about someone before...I must be out of my mind. Yes, indeed. I need to see a doctor.

My last visit to Dr. Matta was when I had chicken pox when I was seven. Fortunately for me, I had never experienced any scarring from the blister-rash caused by the infectious disease. Mom carefully looked after me and treated my rashes with cool poultice she concocted herself. She must have experimented with the various plants and herbs from her garden. Sadly, the formula was created in her mind and she already forgot all about it after I was healed before it could even develop into a money-making product.

"Honey, you're so good in business and your formula for treating chicken pox rashes is so effective, why didn't you think of marketing it?" Dad once asked Mom when he learned that a lot of children were infected with chicken pox the following year.

Mom stared at Dad like he had two heads. It was unimaginable for her to be selling her secrets although she knew it would be profitable. Her products were for personal or family use only. Since they have not passed any scientific testing, she still considered them unreliable though effective. Not everyone has the same body constitution or reaction to certain herbal concoction or medicine, therefore she was afraid users might experience a negative reaction to their body.

"No, Dear. I might end up in jail for selling something illegal, as in no proper clearance and endorsement from the FDA." Mom retorted casually, though she knew that Dad was hinting about a new business idea.

Dad pursed his lips and remained silent. He knew well enough not to mess around Mon's bottomline even if it was a lost opportunity to make money.

Thinking about my parents past exchange of words, I suddenly realized I missed them sorely.

Therefore, feeling so lonely, I couldn't wait for Monday to come.