Wrong Number

Chapter 2

It's better than not having the number under anything and possibly getting it mixed with the other weirdo texts that still have yet to stop coming in.

Not that I planned on keeping this texting thing going....

-

"El, you're going to be late!" Haley shouts from somewhere behind my bedroom door. I groan feeling the morning regret of staying up past 12 the night before early classes. My eyes are heavy as can be, slowly falling shut once again. I can feel my body relax into my comfortable mattress begging me for more sleep that I'm more than willing to comply to.

Just as the slumber starts to creep its way back in my alarm goes off, full volume and vibrating against my bedside table. I jolt awake, pushing myself up on my arms and hitting the snooze button with eyelids half closed.

"That's your late alarm!" Haley calls out once again sounding like she's walking past. My eyebrows pull together; that's impossible. I never miss an....alarm!

"Crap, crap, crap!" My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets as I read the time - 7:45 am. "Shit!" I quickly head to my bathroom, gliding a line of toothpaste on my toothbrush and brushing while I rid myself of my sleepwear.

"Dammit dammit dammit," I swear under my breath rushing to get on anything that smells clean and pulling my hair into a neat-enough bun. I finish brushing my teeth, rinsing my mouth and brush in a flash.

"Have you seen my keys?!" I shout from my room, pulling on a jacket and grabbing my essentials.

"Check your coat!" Haley replies.

I sigh, shaking my covers and knocking something off my bed. Whatever it is it's not my keys so I can't be bothered. Flinging my door open I can only imagine how distraught I must look right about now, rushing around our apartment like a tornado.

"You wouldn't have this problem if you'd just hang them up on the key holder," Haley walks into the living room with a cup of tea.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, nows not the time for one of your key lectures. Do you have any classes today?" I can hear the hopeful undertone in my own voice but I honestly couldn't care less I had 10 minutes to get to my 8 o'clock lecture.

"Take it, I do need it back by 1 though," Haley sighs, giving me the okay to use her car. "Thanks, you're the best, honestly. I'd be lost without you!" I let out a breath of relief and waste no time grabbing the keys off the hook and rushing to campus.

-

I'm done with my morning lectures by 11:30 and decide to head to a local coffee shop to get started on a few papers. It's sort of a secret coffee shop, hidden away in the corner of a not so busy street and far less noticeable than the huge Starbucks down the road.

There's never many people there usually just ones that look like they're on the verge of a mental breakdown and in dire need of getting things done. It's all business and no talk with soft acoustic music playing soothingly from the speakers in the ceiling and the taps of laptop keys being pressed at abnormal speeds.

Although it's not very high-paced I still find it distracting. I'm a people watcher. Always have been. Maybe that's why Haley always says I should of been a psychology major. Either way I tend to lose myself in the behaviors and conversations of people around me.

Like the guy that always sits at the window seat on the opposite side of the shop and how he orders the same foamy latte but never takes more than a sip, far too busy on his phone even though his laptop stays open and untouched in front of him.

Or the girl who sits three tables to the right of me with her earphones on and permanent crease between her brows as she rambles on about her boyfriend and what annoying thing he's doing this time.

I watch the barista mumble the order she's working on a million times under her breath and the cashier who smiles at every single costumer almost as instinct and watch the same smile fade whenever he turns back around to read off the order as soon as the costumer steps aside.

I watch all these people same as any other day and find myself wondering who it is I'm talking to. I know he's a boy now but what is he like? How old is he? Why does he seem to be drunk so often?

Is he more like the distracted sit at the window type guy or babble on about her problems girl? Does he smile when people look at him? Does that same smile fade when he's alone? Is he a happy person or a miserable person to be around?

Is he a perfectionist who has neatly kept hair with not a single strand out of place like the guy that always winks when passing by or does he just throw on a hat like the busy boy typing away by the restroom?

I try not to think about it. Tell myself it doesn't even matter. But I can't stop the nagging feeling that has my knee shaking and my finger tips tapping against the table.

This is stupid.

I don't care.

I don't even know him.

We've only spoken a couple times.

He's been drunk all of those times.

Who cares.

It's stupid.

.....

It's stupid.

Did you get home alright yodel?
[Delivered 11:55 AM]

I type out the message on my laptop and hit enter before I have time to stop myself. I'm basically gnawing on my finger nails watching as the typing bubble pops up and disappears a few times before it just goes away all together.

I let out a huff of air and stretch out the kink in my neck. Why am I so hung up on this? It's stupid anyway. I have papers to get cracking on and it's not like I'm exactly creating a friendship with this guy. I don't need to know who he is and if he got home okay because I don't know him and I probably never will.

So I rid him of my thoughts and get started on the many papers I need done.

---
Anyone else hate the beginning of stories? Bleh

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