Strange We Should Meet Here

Lucid

About a week and a half had passed, and I had almost forgotten about the five dollars that Oliver gave me. Almost. Digging through my pants to make sure all of the paper was out of the pockets before I washed them, I found that five-dollar bill he gave me, and set it aside on my bookshelf.

So, you're probably wondering, what happened to my car? We got it towed, which was a pretty hefty penny. My next two paychecks will be paying for that incident. Luckily, my parents were reasonable, other than that. They had went to bed early on in the night, that I had returned, so I never really faced any heat about getting back late, because, well, they didn't know.

Lucky, right? Well, paying for the towing cost is making up for that. Along with the cost for the battery. So really, it about evens the consequences out.

My friend Rachel kept asking me how I wound up making it home, and groaning, I finally told her. Whenever she found out that it was a younger guy, she flipped to boy-crazy mode. "Did you get his number?" she asked me once, even. I answered no. Little did I know at the time, that the five-dollar bill Oliver gave me, contained his number. Which also raises the question, how did he write it on the bill, without me noticing?

I finally got her off my back, and my other two friends, Dara and Makenzy wondered how I got back. I explained to them, but I received much less interrogation from then than I did Rachel. She needs to be around them more. Maybe she'd be less wound up.

I just finished cleaning my laundry, which is an amazing feat. It always takes forever to do it, because I get distracted, a lot, in the duration of time.

I walk back to my room, burned out and ready to sleep. I hadn't even done much, but I did get tired relatively easily. Maybe it's because I'm used to being a lazy bum.

Laying down on my bed, I pick up the five dollar bill in attempts to un-crease it from its folds. As I'm opening it up, I drift in and out of consciousness, bordering the sleeping world, but I manage to register the fact that there's a phone number on the bill. A phone number. How cheesy, yet appropriate.

I put the bill back on my end table, ignoring it for now, and I turn over and fall asleep.

* * *

I look up at the clock which reads 8:34. My nap lasted longer than I intended, but it wasn't too late into the night.

I don't even know why I'm considering this, considering calling him. Sure, he helped me get back home after my damn car failed me, but I never really had any intentions of calling him. Ever.
Mainly, I'm just doing it on a whim, to see if it's actually him. Although, it's a bit weird to give somebody your phone number on a dollar bill. I didn't even see him write it on it, whenever I was paying attention to him, so it might not even be his.

And yet, here I am, now 8:36. Picking up my phone and dialing the first digits to the number he gave me, I hang up about halfway through the rings. He probably won't remember me, I think. But I shrug, and dial his number again. As the phone rings, I subconciously hope he doesn't pick up, avoiding any potential awkwardness.

"Hello?" a voice answers. It's a guy, I think to myself as I think of what to say. I find the words and speak. "Hey...uh.." I start off, sounding ever-so coherent. "Is this Oliver?" I ask, bluntly.

There's a short moment of silence, before the voice answers back with a yes. Inside, I breathe a sigh of relief, because I know that some of the awkwardness is avoided, but a new set of questions just presented themselves.

"Why'd you put your phone number on that five you gave me?" I ask, really straightforward, but curiously. "Because I can," answers Oliver. I can hear the smugness in his voice.

"Seriously," I continue, although I'm sure he's not threatened by my slight change of tone. "Seriously. I just felt like it. Besides, you're pretty cool. And in case you ever break down again, you can give me a ring," he says, chuckling, and I'll admit that made me smile some. Okay, more than some.

"Well, thanks," I say, still smiling, albeit I'm not quite sure what else to say. "So...how come you didn't call me before?" he asks, feigning a voice of invesigation. "Because I just did my laundry today, and remembered the bill, smart-ass," I reply back, but not hurtfully. Sarcasm is a wonderful tool. Remember that.

"Well, hey. Do you want to meet up sometime?" Oliver asks. Wait, what? I hesitate for a moment, but give him an answer. "Sure. Where at?" I respond. "Wherever. Downtown?" he suggests. "That sounds alright," I say nonchalantly. It didn't really matter in the first place where, because quite frankly, almost anywhere you go in this city, there's either nothing, or minimal to do.

"Alright. Is Friday good?" Oliver questions once more. "Oliver. It's fine. Quite frankly, there's nothing to do here in the first place. So, surprise me," I say, quite bluntly, but he doesn't sound offended; moreso amused. He chuckles. Hoo, boy.

"Alright. I'll come pick you up, Friday then," he says. I figure he's about to hang up, but a question rings in my mind momentarily. "Do you remember how to get here?" I ask. "Eh. I'll figure it out," he says. His mood is so predictable, and I barely know him. But I laugh, instead of remarking. "See you then, Oliver," I say. He says bye before I hang up.

What did I just get myself into?