Call Me

Call Me ~ Chapter One

“Hello?”

“Hi.” The voice in the phone is one that she doesn't recognize. It sounds like a boy, maybe her age.

“Who is this?” She asks, seating herself delicately on a chair next to her desk.

“What you call me does not matter. What may I call you?” The girls bites her lip and pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Um, how did you get my number?” She asks, pulling her phone away to check the number. The word PRIVATE looms at her where a number should have been.

“I just made up a number. May I ask you something?”

“No! I don't even know you! Why would I answer any of your questions?!”

“Because I need your help.”

“What do you mean you need my help?”

“I just do, okay?”

A feeling circles her gut. She isn't sure if it is fear or. . . Well, actually, its probably fear. No matter what it is, she knows that she wants to get rid of it.

“I'm hanging up!”

“Lindsay, wait!”.

The girls goes rigid. The phone almost fell from her hand in her surprise, so she grips it tightly.

“How do you know my name?” Her voice shakes a little bit.

“Lindsay, I know everything about you. Now would you like to answer my question?”

No. Lindsay clicks the end call button. Her lip trembles a bit as she takes deep calming breaths. She sets the phone on the desk, with her hand resting softly on top of it.

For a few moments, she stares at the cell phone. Waiting to see if it would ring once more.

Fortunately, it didn't. At least, not that night

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miss Wolfe, are you sleeping in my class?!” Mrs Nickel asks, outrage teeming from her in bucket loads.

“Not yet,” She mutters. Mrs Nickel shakes her head at the student, but continues her lecture of pronouns.

The lecture bores Lindsay half to death. Who didn't know about pronouns by now? Why do they need to spend a whole week on them?

And why the hell are they called pronouns? They aren't special. If anything, they're just little followers for the nouns. They fill in when the noun can't or doesn't want to make it. So, shouldn't they be called. . . Oh, she doesn't know. . . Minouns?

Some things didn't make any sense at all.

Lindsay, remembering she's bored of the lesson, turns her thoughts back to the boy who had called her. The thought fills her with as much dread as it did the night before. Yet, she can't deny the tingles that dance in her belly at the thought that this boy did call her. That he claims to know her. Is it true? Does this seemingly random person know more about her than she would think possible?

The bell rings, interrupting her from further thought. As soon as she gathers her things and starts to stand, Delilah is there waiting in front of her desk.

“I can't believe you didn't pay any attention in class today.” Delilah snorts. “It's so you, yet it still surprises me.”

Delilah Roberts and Lindsay were best friends. And had been since kindergarten. Ever since they were on snack duty together and both immediately said lifesavers. Its those kind of standards that kindergarteners have for their friendships that make them so easy to deal with.