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Chapter 3
Rinoa calls Irvine
"Hello."
"Hello, Irvine?"
"No. You do not have the pleasure of speaking to Irvine. This is his humble visitor Zell."
"What?"
"I said, you do not have the pleasure of speaking to—"
"Oh. Zell. Yes. I've heard about you."
"As they say in my country, bad news travels fast on a windy day. Ha-ha!"
"You're the foreign exchange student who's living with Irvine's family this year."
"I am liking your voice. Do you know my country?"
"No. I—"
"It is bright yellow."
"Your country is yellow?"
"Only on the map. Not in real life."
"Oh. Uh—interesting. That's very interesting, Zell. Is Irvine home?"
"Yes, he resides here presently."
"Well, could I speak to him?"
"Could you or may you? Hee-hee."
"Is that a joke?"
"It is what I call a pleasantry."
"May I speak to Irvine?"
"With pleasure I am turning over the receiver to him."
"Hello?"
"Hello, Irvine?"
"Yeah."
"This is Rinoa. Rinoa Heartilly."
"Yeah?"
"It's not too late to call, is it?"
"Too late? It's five o' clock in the afternoon!"
"Oh. Right. Well…"
"I'm sorry. Who is this? There's a lot of noise here. Zell is playing the bagpipes or something. I didn't catch your name."
"It's Rinoa. Rinoa Heartilly."
"Are you from school?"
"What? Yes. I'm in Miss Joffry's homeroom."
"Yeah?"
"Well—uh—you're probably wondering why I'm calling."
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm calling because—"
"Hey—Heartilly. Wasn't it your brother on the wrestling team? He was all-state or something, and then his arm got bent."
"No. I don't have a brother."
"Oh. But do you know who I mean? Big guy with a red face? Used to wear bright red sweaters? Always looked so weird walking around with a bent arm?"
"No. I didn't know him. I'm a sophomore. I mean, I'm not into wrestling."
"Yeah?"
"I go to all the basketball games, though."
"Yeah?"
"I guess you're still wondering why I called."
"Yeah."
"Well, I'd like to—uh, interview you."
"Me?"
"Yeah. For the school paper, The Beacon. I think that's what it's called."
"You want to interview me?"
"Yeah. I mean, yes. Would you mind if—"
"But they just interviewed me. Last week."
"They did?"
"Yeah. Chris Murdoch. You know Chris?"
"Sure. Of course I know him."
"He already interviewed me for The Beacon."
"Oh. Right. I knew that. It's just that—uh—well, Chris lost his notes."
"He did?"
"Yeah. So he asked me to do a follow-up. You know. Try to piece together the stuff he lost."
"Oh."
"So, do you think you might have time?"
"Yeah."
"When? I mean—"
"Well, I have basketball practice at seven-thirty. You could come over before. Say seven."
"Come over to your house?"
"Yeah."
"Oh. Okay. That's good. It shouldn't take long. Thanks, Irvine. See you at seven."
"Yeah."
"Well, bye."
"Oh, Rina? Do you know my address?"
"It's Rinoa. Yes. I live just a few blocks away, across Fremont by the playground."
"Yeah?"
"See you later, Irvine. Thanks."
"Bye."