The Boy I Admire From Afar

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Zion's POV

"Mom...Did Crystal play in my room this week?" I asked my mom who was cooking dinner in the kitchen. Crystal was my four-year-old sister.

"I don't think so. Why?" She tasted her cooking and went rushing to the fridge.

"I lost something." I sat down on the kitchen counter stool, feeling irritated.

"What something?"

"A phone number. I can't remember where I wrote it."

"Whose number is that?"

"My schoolmate. I need to find that number tonight. It's very important."

"What's going on?" My dad entered the kitchen, tapped my shoulder, then went directly to mom, kissing her.

"Zion lost his schoolmate's phone number. He can't remember where he wrote it."

Dad raised his eyebrows. "That's easy, son. Ask him tomorrow. If you need it tonight, then message him on Facebook."

"Yeah. Or you can call your other schoolmates. Maybe Izzy or Harry has it." Mom added.

She was right. Izzy has Claire's number. He memorized it by heart.

"It's easy to contact anyone now." Dad said and tasted Mom's cooking. His eyes widened with approval. "Delicious. This makes me so hungry, baby."

***

I went back to my room, throwing things on my bed and looking for Claire's phone number again. Flipping the pages of my books, notebooks, and papers. But still, I couldn't find it. I even dug the papers in my bin, hoping it to be there.

Maybe I should call Harry for help?

NO. Harry would ask why I'd be calling Claire. He'd find out about the play. I didn't want that to happen. Not yet. Not now. He and the rest of the football team would mock me for playing Romeo.

"Oh my God! This room is such a mess." Emerald was at the doorway, staring at my bed.

"Do you even know the word KNOCK?" I said, glaring at my sister.

"It's not in my vocabulary." She flicked her wrist and came inside my room.

"What do you want?"

"Can I borrow your Science book?" She asked, crossing her arms together on her chest.

"Look for it. Can't you see I'm busy?" I was flipping the pages of my Math book then my notes.

"You're looking for something?"

"Obviously."

"What is it?" She threw my books on the floor.

"What are you doing?" I looked at the mess she made on my floor. "Just get the book and leave, okay?"

She laughed and yelled. "Got the book! Bye, Lion... oopss... Zion."

***

Later that evening, while we were having dinner, I was very agitated. It was almost eight o'clock and still, I didn't have Claire's number.

"We should make a parody video of you, Dad, imitating salt bae." Emerald said.

"Yeah. That would be so funny." My mom laughed. "I can't imagine you sprinkling salt like that."

"And the spanking? Na... he's overacting." Dad frowned with disapproval.

"Who's salt bae, Emmie?" My younger sister, Crystal, asked innocently.

"A guy on the internet. I'll show you later. He's so funny." Emerald answered.

"No, Emmie. I'm sure Crystal won't like it." Dad scolded Emerald.

"Crystal likes Moana." Mom said.

"Yes, Mommy. We have the same hair." Crystal smiled.

I was silent all throughout dinner and often checked the time at the wall clock. Damn it. Fifteen minutes before eight.

Mom noticed me and asked. "Have you seen the phone number?"

"Not yet. I'll look for it again later." I answered, slicing my steak.

"Maybe you wrote his number in one of your books. Or her?" Dad raised one of his eyebrows.

"So that's what you've been looking for... a phone number?" Emerald attention focused at me. "I saw a phone number at the very last page of your Science book."

"Really? Where's my book?"

"In my room."

I ate faster and ran to Emerald's room.

Claire's POV

I was done doing my assignment and preparing my things for school tomorrow when my phone rang.

It was an unknown number.

I ignored it until it stopped ringing.

After a minute, my phone rang again and still I didn't accept it.

I received a text message from the same unknown number.

"Claire, pick up it's me."

Huh? Who is this?

"Me who?" I replied.

"Zion"

My heart suddenly sang with delight. My mind froze and my pulses raced crazily. Zion was actually calling me. He meant what he said yesterday.

I inhaled and exhaled several times, trying to calm myself. Chill, Claire. He's calling you to ask for help NOT to ask you for a date.

My phone rang again. I cleared my throat, pretending not to be affected, and answered.

"Hello."

"Hi, Claire. It's Zion." The sound of his gentle voice made me melt.

"What do you want?"

"Are you busy?" He asked.

"Yeah." I lied.

"Can I see you tomorrow after class in the theatre?"

"I'm not sure. I'm busy."

"Come on, Claire. I need your help. Please show up." His voice was so soothing, making me want to say Yes, but I have to resist.

"Me? Or you're the one who won't show up? You stood me up three times, remember?"

"I know. That was a stupid move. I'm so sorry. I have my reasons, but I can't tell you." He spoke with tenderness, like a murmur.

I was silent. It was better not to talk. I didn't trust myself—what words would come out from my mouth. I felt like flushing all over my body. Heat ran from my head to my toes. He always had this effect on me. Turning me to liquid.

"Please, Claire..."

"I can't answer you now. I have to hang up, Zion. I'm busy."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow." He said and our call ended.