Passing Numbers

A Story by Nicole Pilar

When ever the phone rings hurry to answer, you never know who might be on the other end of the line...Sometimes those who you never expect to see again will ahow up in those you've never even met... a short monologue

Hi or um… Hello, I… well ok, this is going to sound crazy, but I sort of got this number off a…off um the restroom wall.

Oh well…um I’m not exactly sure, I think it was the one near AP Biology… *Ha-ha* Why is that some kind of a hint on how many number you’ve put out?

What?! No! I didn’t- no, I wasn’t implying that that’s the only way you can get someone to call! I really didn’t; look I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever… bye I guess…

What?! No! I don’t think I’m too good for you! You’re the one yelling at me!

Yes, you are! Are you serious? Well gee maybe if you didn’t yell at the people who actually called yo-

Fine, You know what? Take it anyway you want!

Excuse me? What did you say?

Yes you did!

How dare you! You don’t even know me!

Oh girls like me?! Yeah that makes sense! So I suppose since I’m like every other girl out there, just another cookie cut out you can just read me? What’s my favorite color or Holiday? Or maybe you can even go past that! Can you tell me what I’m feeling too?

What was going through my head when I tripped in my second grade dance recital? Who did I first call when Ben Howards gave me my first kiss behind the flagpole at recess? What would I give to change about myself so that my father would have felt that he actually had something worthwhile to stick around for huh?

Because you know so damn much about me, because I’m the mirror image of every girl you pass in the street!

Does every other girl not have a social life because she has to make sure her mother doesn’t hurt herself in another drunken rage? Or did every other girl have to lift her mother off the lawn; after she had exhausted herself crying for a man who would never come home again, clinging to his jacket as if it held the air needed to live? While the neighbors peered around their blind shaded windows? How many girls do you know that still wait up until two a.m. by the window, for the slight hope that maybe, maybe the car that drives up the block next will be the one she’s waited for, for nearly eight years? Where’s your family huh? Your mom, is she baking cookies? Your dad with the little brother checking out Sunday night football? Look, maybe you’re living in a “Leave it to Beaver” rerun, but some of us have this thing called the real world to deal with! So don’t even try to tell me I’m “one of those girls” don’t you dare!