2002
BRRING
Phoebe's head jerked up as the shrill voice of the phone echoed through the house. She stared at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, her mind still foggy from her world of square roots, cosines, and integrals.
BRRING
The second ring woke her up completely, and she glanced at the green digital time display on the microwave, wearily running her hand through her uncontrollable mouse-brown hair. 7:42. Who on earth would be calling at this hour? Her mother was probably on her way home from work now, and anyway, her cell was sitting on the end table charging, so it couldn't possibly be her. Unless...
Maybe a meeting was running late, or she had to finish up some paperwork, and was calling to tell Phoebe so she wouldn't worry.
BRRING
Nah, Phoebe thought. Her mother never bothers to call if she's running late. She simply doesn't care that much.
BRRING
But what if she had started home? Traffic was awful on the freeway, what if she had gotten into some terrible accident? What if it's the hospital calling to tell Phoebe that her mother had been checked into the ER? Or worse, what if it's the hospital calling to tell Phoebe that her mother had...had...
Phoebe's stomach tightened and twisted into knots, and she scrambled out of her chair, racing for the phone.
Then she paused. Don't be ridiculous, Phoebe, she told herself. It's probably only a telemarketer. Telemarketers always call at this hour. She let her hand slide away from the receiver, her heart slowing to a normal rate.
BRRING
Telemarketers are never this persistent. Why did it have to be a bad call, anyway? Who was to say that it wasn't a good call?
It could be one of the girls from Phoebe's school, calling for the homework assignment. Or better yet, maybe while they were getting the assignment, they would casually mention, "Hey Phoebe, we're going out to a movie tomorrow night. Wanna come?" And Phoebe would say, "Sure, that'd be fun," and then she would have friends in this new, gigantic school where it's easy to get lost, and fall through the cracks, and graduate without anyone ever learning your name.
BRRING
Hey, why stop there? It might not even be one of the girls at all, it might be even be...dare she even think it?...a guy? Heck, while she was at it, she could even believe that it might even be that incredibly cute guy who sits three seats down and one seat over from her in her English 11 class. The guy who picked up her pencil today when she dropped it and it rolled in his direction. And didn't he even smile at her? Yes, yes he did! It could very well be him! She could hear the conversation now…
“Hello, Phoebe?”
“Yes?”
“This is Luke. Luke Hedwill. Uh, we have English together.
“Oh, hello Luke. How are you?” How poised and calm she sounds!
“I’m fine, thank you…hey listen, you know about that Winter Carnival next week?”
“Yes…”
“D'you think...I mean, would you want to go with me?"
“I’d love to, Luke! Thanks for calling.”
“Anytime. So…I’ll see you in English tomorrow?”
“See you then.”
BRRI--
In her excitement in lunging for the phone, Phoebe cut off the last half of the seventh melodious tone, and spoke breathlessly into the phone, her voice vibrant with excitement and anticipation.
"Hello?"
"Hello…”
A male voice! Her breath caught.
“…may I speak to Jack Wilson please?"
"Uh--sorry?"
"Jack Wilson. Is this 209-555-7829?"
"Um...I'm afraid...it's 7892."
"Oh. Sorry then, wrong number."
There was a click. The silence on the other end was deafening.