Chapter 4: Stranger (Ziola)

"You up?" I said when he was in front of me. He was barefoot, wearing no glasses. I practically locked him up in my room yesterday when my parents showed up uninvited. And when I went to check up on him later when they left, he was sound asleep. I wasn't sure if I should wake him up, so I left him there –leaving the door open, just in case if he wakes up.

"Thanks a lot." He sounded genuine and sat in front of me.

"For what?" I joked. "For letting you in or lending my bed?"

"For both."

"Then, I guess you owe me, too."

He just smiled instead of replying. Normally, I belong to the kind of people who don't mix up with the crowd, especially strangers. But something about Kael makes me want to talk with him, maybe even help.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "For leaving you locked alone, yesterday."

"Oh."

"My parents came." (Why am I even saying?)

He nodded, like he understood –which he didn't actually.

I could have easily introduced him to my parents as one of my friends; they won't make a fuss about it. But one look at him, any idiot can say he's sort of different. So no offense, I don't need any dramas. I didn't say this to Kael; after all, he's a guy –so, I didn't explain.

"You know it is okay. I'm sorry for all the troubles I've caused you." He said, maybe because I was silent for a while. I looked at him, again. His clothes, his hair, his shoes, even his accent was different from the vast variety I've seen here all my life. He seemed oddly cautious like he's absorbing everything. Another few minutes ruled by silence, like both of us trying to figure out what to speak.

"You missed breakfast," I said, trying to break the silence.

He thinks for a moment and replied, "I'm not hungry. Thanks." He looked out and fixed his stare at the street. No one's out at this time of the day, usually.

"What time is it?" he asked, a moment later.

"It's almost afternoon."

He nodded, again. "What happens to be today's date?"

Really? Has he lost his memory? I needed to ask. But instead, I replied to him, "9th May." He nodded to himself. Like he's convincing himself to believe in my words. Whatever it is, he is worried or concerned about it. I can say it from the way his eyebrows are lined together.

"Year?" His voice cracked like he's afraid to hear what I'm going to say. But what on earth is he doing? Has he lost his memory?

"Tell me you didn't lose your memory?" This time I needed to know. The last thing I needed to do was taking a stranger to mental therapy. I know it's rude, but as much as I hate dog poop and rain, I hate getting involved in unnecessary troubles.

"No," he shook his head, desperately. And raised an eyebrow in expect for an answer.

Wow! He wants me to answer his obvious question.

"2320," I answered him. Now, I was getting irritated by his dumbness. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. He sat there like I just blasted a Grade A – nuclear weapon in front of him or like I said I'm having an artificial brain inside my skull (Which is not true.)