42. Cinnamon Rolls

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"Call... her."

I didn't wait another second and followed Brandon's command. Removing my sling bag from my shoulder, I opened the zip. It was cramped, filled to the top. I fiddled around with the contents, trying to find her card.

It should be here, I thought. Brandon had kept it on the bedside table and I had made a point to keep it back in the bag before we went out to search for Giulia today.

My patience was running out. The pile of lip care products and tissue wipes dominating my purse didn't help either. With a  frustrated sigh, I stalked over to where Bella was sitting. She looked up, pursing her lips. Without a word and with more force than necessary, I flipped the bag over, rattling all the contents out on the bed.

Bella gave me a wary look, perturbed by my franticness. There was no time to explain it to her. Instead, I focused my attention on finding the card.

The black and red scrawl on the piece of rectangle glistened as I swiped the layer of other memo and cards away from it.

Phew, I thought, picking it up. Uncertainty assailed me. What if everything was a joke and I took it seriously? Or maybe she never expected me to call her. It could have just been a formality or politeness.

Or maybe not?

"What are you thinking about?" Brandon interrupted my thoughts.

"Uh... "

"Call her." He pointed to the card with his eyes.

"Uh..."

Call me if there is any trouble. Her words repeated in my head.

I  looked at the card and then at Brandon again.

She offered to help me in the time of need. In the time of trouble. This counts as trouble, right?

Without giving it another thought, I dialed the number. Brandon sighed in relief. I turned my back towards them, listening intently to the ringing of the phone. They crowded behind me as Brandon explained Bella and Sarah in hushed whispers about who I was calling. I peeked a look back when he mentioned her and the story behind our meeting. Bella didn't look particularly pleased. Sarah on the other hand had a look of wonder and fear on her face.

Before I could chicken out and back away, she picked up her phone.

"Tyler?" An amused voice greeted me from the other side. I pulled the phone away from my face and stared at it. A shiver ran down my spine.

How did she know it was me?

I must have spoken aloud because I heard her laughter. Putting the phone back to my ear, I waited for an explanation. It came, as expected.

"Yours is an American number with a Singaporean code. I took my chance."

"Oh." I faked a laugh. It was awkward, and she caught on, breaking out into a spell of laughter. I proved to be a constant source of humor for her. For the record, it made me feel good, albeit, a bit sheepish.

"So what do we have today?" She took her time speaking and her tone was casual and inviting. Maybe she had time to have a chat. Not that the words exchanged would be fun for either of us.

"Um..." I stalled, at a loss of words. Should I make the basic conversation? Or should I jump on the issue right away?

I had no idea why I was so conflicted today. Maybe the thought of making a single mistake, and holding the responsibility of it made me so conscious of my decisions.

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