[b]Mikey's P.O.V[/b]
Two days later, I found myself aimlessly pacing my apartment on my day off from work.
I'd been living on my own here for only two months. I've had the job at Starbucks for a while now, and since I had some money saved up I'd tried to be out on my own. I thought I could do it, I knew I can.
But sometimes, it was just lonely.
I heaved a sigh and drew open the blinds on the window, staring out onto the street below. I shoved my hands in my pants pockets and found myself touching a smashed up piece of paper or something. I'd pulled it out and it was a napkin. I opened it up and on one of the corners was a phone number scribbled in small handwriting.
Ray.
I flushed red as I recalled the awkward scenario at work. Was he pulling my chain or what? I know he was joking around, but was it meant to be mean or flirtatious? I pondered both of those possibilities for a while. What if he was gonna call me up to meet me somewhere and mug me or something, or get jumped by him and a gang because I'm a twiggy, nerdy looking guy. Or did he wanna go on a date or something?
Well, I wouldn't know until I called him. I pulled out my cell phone and started dialing his number. Now, I got to hit the send button.
I couldn't bring myself to it, and I didn't know why. I stared at the number on my phone, and back to the handwriting on the napkin. Was it really worth it? Why am I getting so worked up about this?
Am I really that lonely...?
I looked back out the window and I wondered where he was from. Did Ray live alone in an apartment like I did? Did he have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend...? Was he rich? What was he interested in? Did he have a hobby? A job?
I wasn't going to find out the answers to any of those questions if I didn't make the call. I looked at my phone's screen again. It was dark, so I pressed a button to light it up.
I hit the "send" button, and the phone began to ring.
I put it to my hear and waited.
It rang once. Twice. Three times. I was getting impatient. And I was starting to back out. I hung up before his voicemail came on, and I swear I thought I heard a voice picking up the phone.
What would he think of me for hanging up? Would he know it was me? Did he leave his phone number for every guy he met? Or girl...
I sighed and dropped my phone onto the table. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. I was getting furious with myself, and getting stressed out.
I decided it would be a nice way to blow off steam if I took a bike ride. I grabbed my phone, coat, and other necessities before heading out the door.
Maybe later, I'll try calling him again.