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“Sure,” I reply. “What is it?”
“Not now. I’m supposed to be working the bar. But where are you right now? Are you at your place?”
“No. Something terrible—”
“Good. Don’t go back there. At all.”
Felipe knows what happened today? I wonder how he found out.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.
“In the morning, I have my finals in stats class, then I go to my internship in the afternoon.”
“I think I can meet you around noon. I’ll let you know exactly where and when in the morning.”
Okay. This is kind of weird.
“And after you hang up with me, don’t answer any more calls. From anyone.”
“But I’m expecting a call from Darren tonight.”
“Don’t answer it. Trust me on this.”
“Felipe, you’re kind of scaring me. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Stay safe.”
He hangs up, leaving me confused and a little bewildered. Is this some kind of practical joke? I recall when Darren thought I was pulling one my first time at The Lotus. One of his friends and family members is apparently a regular prankster. There was definitely an edge to Felipe’s tone. He came across nervous. Why would he tell me not to go back to my apartment unless he knows what happened? Maybe it was in the news.
But why doesn’t want me to take Darren’s call? Is he worried that Darren will tell JD what happened to Amy? That doesn’t make much sense, though. JDs going to find out at some point.
Putting aside my phone, I try to review my class notes, but it’s a fruitless endeavor. I should just let the professor know that I’ll have to take the final another day. He’d understand, given what happened. But I was looking forward to being done with everything after tomorrow. My boss at my internship is hosting drinks for all the office staff as a farewell event for me. I start my fellowship in Sacramento next week. It would be nice not to have the stats final hanging over my head.
Talking about Darren reminds me of the text I accidentally received from him.
My phone rings again. It’s Darren this time.
Felipe’s advice seems silly. Now’s my opportunity to clear things up with Darren. If he’s cheating on me, he should come out and admit it. But I also don’t want to talk to him. I’m angry and depressed. There’s a hole in my chest, and it hurts.
Plus, for some inexplicable reason, I believe there’s something behind what Felipe is telling me, that it’s not a prank he’s pulling. Because he never struck me as the mischievous type.
I believe there are moments of serendipity, unexplained urges from the cosmos. My grandmother, who almost never buys lottery tickets, felt compelled to do so when walking by 7-Eleven one day. So she went in, picked up her numbers, and ended up winning five hundred dollars.
I sigh with relief when the phone stops ringing. A few minutes later, however, Darren calls again.
Maybe I should pick it up. Or maybe I should ghost him. If he was with some other woman last night, he doesn’t get to have me, too.
I wonder if I should try to reach Felipe at the club and get him to explain his cryptic call, but I don’t want to pull him away from his job.
I don’t know what to do.
Frustrated, I put my phone on silent and pick up my notes. But I might as well try to avoid drinking an ice-cold glass of lemonade after a day’s trek through Death Valley.
Giving up on studying, I lie down and curl up on the sofa. Twenty minutes later, the phone rings again, but I let it go to voicemail.
