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Phoebe stared at the receiver. She stared at it until she was cross-eyed and her eyes were aching. She grabbed a chair from the table in the kitchen and sat on it facing the telephone. Her chin rested on her palm while she waited desperately for the phone to ring. *Ring, ring* The phone rang. Phoebe jumped up and grabbed it.
“Hello?” She said politely and breathlessly as if she just ran the marathon to get to the phone, but the truth was, the phone was only a few centimeters away from her hand. Her grip tightened around the receiver as she hoped with all her heart that it would be Nick.
“May I speak to Lisa please?” Came an unfamiliar male voice.
Phoebe’s hopes dropped, “Wrong number,” she replied with a harsh tone in her voice. Almost as soon as she placed the phone back into its cradle, the phone rang again.
She snatched it and with high hopes, she said nervously, “Hello?”
“Morgan please.”
Phoebe felt like her heart had just been smashed into smithereens. “Wrong number!” She shouted into the receiver and slammed it into its cradle. Immediately, the phone rang again. Annoyed, Phoebe picked it up ready to give the prank phone caller a piece of her mind. “Would you friggin’ pricks stop making prank phone calls –”
“Woah, woah. Calm down! I’m not a prank phone caller.” The unknown speaker interrupted, “I’m Nick, may I speak to Phoebe please?”
“Uh… Nick…” Phoebe said, embarrassed, recognizing the stranger’s voice, “I’m sorry, it was just those pri- I mean, boys making prank phone calls on me and I was starting to get really annoyed and, y’know, I just decided to yell at them and I usually don’t say that stuff but once a person gets–”
“Stop Phoebe stop! You’re starting to sound like my grandmother!”
“Uh… okay. What did you want?” Phoebe asked, twirling her finger around the telephone cable. She tried to think up of ways to make the conversation last for at least half an hour.
“Oh yeah! Um… I wanted to tell you that I found your handkerchief… under a stash of my stuff… but… I’ve washed it and ironed it so it looks nice and flat now.” Nick lied.
“You! You mean you even know how to use the washing machine?” Phoebe asked incredulously.
“Well, how would you know? It’s not like we knew eachother our whole lifetime.”
“Uh…” Phoebe thought desperately for an excuse, “Well, I mean, you don’t look like a person that, that–”
“I understand Phoeb. Anyway, where do ya wanna meet? Y’know, for your handkerchief thingy.”
“Mmm… how about in the Orlando shopping center at the McDonald’s on third floor?” Phoebe selected a place at random. (Author’s Note: Sorry but I don’t know any places in Florida because I’m not a resident. *My hometown will be kept top secret… hehe* Anyway, my point is that I made up this shopping center completely. If I’m lucky enough, there might even be this place! So don’t email saying stuff about this error, bear with me guys!)
“Okay… at one?” Nick grabbed a pencil and started writing into his schedule book.
“It’s a deal!” Phoebe smiled and hung up. She ran upstairs as quick as her legs could take her to her room. “What should I wear?” Phoebe wondered and thought about what would happen on her third meeting with Nick.