Are You Okay, Xiao Ping ?

With half jumping, Xiao Ping gets off from her bicycle, recklessly just throws it on the ground. Her hand is tremendously shaking when she opens the door. With head hanged low, she across the living room, mumbling "I'm home" to her mother before goes in her room. After locking the door, something she rarely does, Xiao Ping throws her body down to the bed and cries in silent.

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"Xiao Ping, are you okay ?" Mrs. Yuan asks from behind the door. "Are you sick ?" she asks again then knocking the door. "Xiao Ping ?"

There is no response. Mrs. Yuan sighs in worry. Since last night her daughter has acted weird. She greeted then locked the door until this morning. Mrs. yuan pushes the door handle repeatedly, as if the attempt will open the door. Then again she calls her daughter. "Xiao Ping, open the door."

There is a noise from the room. "I'm okay, mom," Xiao Ping answers. "Why are you locking your self inside ? Are you sick ?" her mother asks in worry. "No. I'm fine," Xiao Ping says from her bed.

"Don't you want to talk about it to me ?" her mother asks from behind the door. Xiao Ping just shakes her head, unwillingly to answer. "Xiao Ping ..." he mother calls her again. "Did someone hurt you yesterday ?" Xiao Ping shakes her head vigorously. She tries to suppress her emotion to make a clam tone to say, "No." while he tears has poured down her tired face.

No longer tries to coax her daughter to open the door, Mrs. Yuan sits dumbfounded on the sofa with a deep frown. What should I do ? she asks her self. Xiao Ping has never lied to her. She knows her daughter well. Introvert, but never lied. Her heart feels something is not right.

Mrs. Yuan goes to the small sideboard that has a phone on it. Beside the phone there is a small notes to write messages and phone numbers. Mr. Yuan is on cleaning service training out of town for few days. While picking the handle, Mrs. Yuan punches the number of the training place. But she stops at the fifth number then slowly pushes the signal breaker button.

She is not sure how bad the problem is. If she called Mr. Yuan, he must become worry and can not concentrate on his training. Mrs. Yuan sighs to relieve the tense on her brain. A second later there is someone across her mind that might be able to tell her something about Xiao Ping.

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Yu Jin's closed eyes squint when he hears the phone ring that disturbs his sleep. When it is not stoping, his hand reaches the wireless that on the bed table. "Hello," he greets with his sleepy voice.

"Yu Jin ?" the caller asks. Yu Jin frowns, his brain who still not fully awake is trying to guess who it is. "Eh, I'm Xiao Ping's mom," the caller tells before Yu Jin succeed to guess.

"Oh, Aunty Yuan. How are you ?" he greets, this time with wonder and surprised. His hand quickly uncovers the blanket and he immediately stands as if Mrs. Yuan is in front of him.

"I'm good," Mrs. Yuan answers with a hanging sound in the end makes Yu Jin frowns one more time. "I'm sorry. Is there something I can help you, Aunty ?" he asks politely.

"Ehhm.. Was Xiao Ping with you last night ?" Mrs. Yuan answers him with a question. Yu Jin deepens his frown. "No, we were not," he answers then asks back when Xiao Ping's mother sighs, "Is there something wrong with Xiao Ping ?"

"I'm not sure my self. Yesterday she asked permission to go to a party of her friend. She didn't say who, I also didn't ask much. Lately she looked sad and sluggish, so I thought I let her to have fun for a bit.."

Something inside Yu Jin's heart is like detached when he heard Xiao Ping was sad. He immediately is reminded on how "busy" he has been. Busy to avoid Xiao Ping. Mrs. Yuan's next sentence pulls his attention back.

"Last night she just greeted then went straight to her room and locked the door. She hasn't come out from her room ever since." Yu Jin falls in silent, being worry and also because he does not know what to say. "So you were not with her last night, right ?" Mrs. Yuan asks once again to make sure. When Yu Jin says no, she wry giggles. "I thought you both broke up or had a huge fight last night so she is sad and shut herself," Mrs. Yuan tells him her assumption.

Yu Jin gasps. "But.. we are not dating," Yu Jin says in panic with no reason. "Oh, is that so ? Forgive me, I thought you both are on a date," Mrs. Yuan says making Yu Jin's face red. "No, we're not," Yu Jin confirms and add inwardly, "I wish we were."

"Then.. do you who's Xiao Ping's boy friend ?" Mrs. Yuan's question surprises him again. "I mean.. maybe she argued with him," Mrs. Yuan adds.

"As far as I know.. Xiao Ping has no boyfriend, Aunty," Yu Jin answers. Well, at least not in Taiwan, again Yu Jin adds inwardly.

After Mrs. Yuan ends the call, Yu Jin is dumbfounded before his kitchen counter. He just realizes that it has been a long time he sipped Xiao Ping's made milk coffee. Suddenly he misses Xiao Ping's chatter, her joyful laughters, and her sparkly eyes.

Mrs. Yuan's thought about Xiao Ping being broke up or fought with her boyfriend moves Yu Jin's body to living room and sits on the white sofa facing the laptop. Maybe Xiao Ping is in trouble with Takeshi.

Hesitantly, he types Xiao Ping's username. The password field is filled automatically because Xiao Ping saved it. A second later an inbox page is shown. Most of it from lostboy2000. There is one unopened email. Yu Jin lets it and decides to go to Outbox folder. He clicks on the last email Xiao Ping sent.

"Dear Takeshi, thank you for your comfort. You're absolutely right. I'm not all alone. I have you. My happiness. How can I forget that ? I'm sorry. I don't mean to inconsiderate you. Look at me. I'm so selfish. I'm sad because Yu Jin is too busy, and I complain it to you without realizing that it may hurt your feeling nor how busy you were. Please, don't be disappoint at me. I promise I'll learn to grow up.

Anyway, I'm going to go to my friend's party tonight. I've told you about a friend of mine who works at magazine stall, haven't I? today is his birthday and he invited me to his party."

Yu Jin jumps out of his sit when he read the last paragraph of that email.