Chapter 23: Chapter 23. Playing Games
Chapter 23. Playing Games
Rosa Lin’s POV
A long, heavy silence descended immediately after Mia’s question. I had to stop and look up at her with disbelief in my eyes.
"I’m sorry, Tim. Tim Kalem," I said, waving my hands. "The guy at the cafeteria. The one who was kind of weird. We saw him yesterday night when he paid for our drinks, and then he said he wanted to make a move on me. You don’t remember him?" I asked.
I saw her tilt her eyes, looking to the side like she was analyzing my words. I squeezed my eyebrows together with a frown.
Then she looked back at me, her eyes wide like she had been caught in the headlights doing something wrong. "I’m sorry. The name doesn’t ring a bell," she said.
It felt like a punch straight into my gut. I was so dumbfounded. My lips hung open as I stared at her wide eyes.
"There is no way, Mia. You are crazy," I said, getting up. "You have to remember him. You remember celebrating my first salary yesterday night, right?" I asked.
She nodded her head and then moved closer, folding her arms like she was interested in understanding what I was saying. "Yes, obviously. I do remember that."
I raised an eyebrow. "Then who paid for the drinks?" I asked.
She frowned, tilting her eyes to the side like she was thinking. Then she looked at me. "You, of course."
My head exploded at once. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now. Is she playing tricks on me?
"Mia, can you stop this?" I said.
She frowned. "Stop what?"
I closed my eyes and let out a breath. "Tim Kalem, the new hockey coach. He approached us in the cafeteria and asked for my number," I said.
She squinted her eyes. "Was there probably something laced in your burger this afternoon, Rosa?"
Her eyes squinted like she thought I was probably going crazy. Then she chuckled and shook her head. "There is nobody like that. I mean, if there was, I would definitely be aware. I might not know a lot about the hockey team coach, but I certainly know there is nobody named Tim Kalem in this school that fits into the description you’re giving me right now. He might probably just be a normal student, but nobody like that approached us by the table. We were literally alone except when Mr. Don came and I left."
Then she folded her arms and looked at me with both of her eyebrows raised.
There was no way. She has to be playing tricks on me. My lips hung open in confusion as I stared at her. I don’t even know what to say.
My lips moved. But no words came out.
She stepped closer and placed her hand against my shoulder. "Are you okay? You look pale."
I closed my eyes and let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. "I’m sorry," I said, placing my hand against my forehead. "I’m just a little bit confused, because I am definitely sure someone approached our table this afternoon, Mia."
She smiled. "You know the brain has a way of playing tricks on people, especially when they are going through a traumatizing situation they haven’t recovered from," she said, with both of her eyebrows raised.
I gave her a glare.
She grinned, but then she patted my shoulder. "Relax, girl. I’m actually serious. If there was anyone like that, do you really think I’m going to lie to you?" she asked.
I looked at the ground after she had said that. She was right. Mia is not the kind of person to actually lie to me.
So who the hell did I see? A ghost?
She patted my shoulder. "Chill out, baby girl. Let me go finish the rest of the dinner. You must be very startled and hungry," she said.
She vanished back into the kitchen, and I remained alone with my racing thoughts, still staring at the ground.
The scene played back in my head—Tim smiling at me with that charming, sweet smile, and the look of understanding in his eyes when he confessed that he understood my pain, that he wanted to fight for me, and that he wanted to help me go against Mac.
I frowned intensely. Am I actually going nuts here? Was all that really in my head? No.
Of course I saw him, and then I saw him again at the administrative building.
What the hell is going on?
I collapsed back, pressing against the backrest of the sofa, tilting my head and staring at the ceiling. There has to be some goddamn explanation for this, I thought to myself.
Then it struck me hard. Mr. Don was the Dean. He was definitely going to have a list of the staff, right? That’s actually perfect. If there was actually someone who was the school hockey coach, he would definitely know about it.
I reached down and pressed my hand into my pocket to take out my phone, but then it struck me: I don’t have Mr. Don’s phone number.
He never asked for it.
I blew out a breath and collapsed back against the chair, looking to the side and biting my inner cheek, thinking.
Scratch that.
I swiped straight to the school’s website to check the school’s official data.
I searched through and through, scrolling as rapidly as I could up towards the sporting section. And just like Mia had said, there was literally no one named Tim Kalem. The hockey coach was somebody else—someone I totally didn’t know about. One Roley Kay.
It made me frown as I stared at my screen.
Yeah, today does not make sense at all.
I put my hand down and stared ahead of me with a frown creasing my forehead. If that was the case, then who the hell came to pay for our meals last night at the restaurant? Who the hell did we see that sat with us and made an attempt to flirt with me? Who the hell did I see in the administrative section just after Mr. Don dropped me off, staring at me like he had a personal interest and was trying to ensure his prize was intact or something?
Goodness me, I am freaking losing my mind here.
Is he a ghost? And why the freaking hell doesn’t Mia remember? I can clearly remember Mia’s expression as Tim made his move on me, flirting openly and commenting on my beauty.
She definitely saw him. She definitely had a reaction to him.
So why wasn’t she remembering him?
***
I had managed and tried my best to brush the topic off my head for the next few hours, until later that night—a few minutes to 12:00 a.m.
I was focused on my first semester assignment for this new year, determined to give myself a head start and not create any room for inconsistencies. My fingers flew rapidly across the page, my eyebrows squeezed tight, writing down the lessons I got from today as some sort of response to the questions invading my thoughts.
My phone vibrated, and I took a quick glance at it. But then I ignored it and focused on what I was doing, pretending like it was nothing. I wasn’t really in the mood for any distractions right now, but the vibration against the table forced me to stop. It was persistent and loud, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.
I slammed my pen against the table and then picked up my phone in frustration, swiping open the screen to see it was a message from an unknown number, followed by a flash call. The person must have realized I wasn’t replying to the message and decided to call just to get my attention.
Desperate enough.
I frowned and then tapped on the message, wondering who the hell it was.
How are you doing? the message read.
Then I saw the string of messages following closely behind:
Were you able to get home safe? 🤔
Don’t pretend like you haven’t seen my message. 👿
I know you are right there beside your phone. 😒
Pick up the goddamn phone, will you? 😡😡
I stared at my phone and then looked around the room before raising an eyebrow at the screen. The level of audacity from this fellow was unreal. I scoffed and shook my head, raising an eyebrow as I quickly sent a message.
Who is this? 🙄
Then I relaxed back, staring at the screen while watching the typing bubble as the person texted back. I waited and waited, wondering if the person was planning to write an epistle, but then the reply finally came:
Why don’t you take a guess? 😏
I raised an eyebrow. Yeah, took you so long just to write a short message.
I gritted my teeth, staring at the screen and shaking my head. Is this person trying to play games with me?
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