Then, I heard a sweet female voice on the receiver. "Hello, Littrell residence. Who you calling for please?"

"Brian. Thanks."

I heard someone running down the stairs hurriedly and then I heard a breathless voice, "Hello? Isabelle?"

My heart sank just about two thousand feet underground. I could barely say hi before hanging up. So he was still hung up on Isabelle. Maybe I should just give up. But my alter ego was going, "No! You’ve made the first move and now it’s up to you to make the next!"

It took over me and I dialled his number again.

This time, he answered the phone, sounding kinda frustrated. "Yeah?"

"It’s me, Tricia, remember? I urm… called to urm… talk. Yeah, I called to talk. You busy or something?"

"Nope. So what other subjects do you take?"

To my surprise, Brian bombarded me with questions about myself. I was genuinely surprised. I was expecting a more egoistic, self-centred football star. It was really easy to talk to him. And I realised how much we have in common. Our love for the musical Grease, our adoration for Chicago Bulls, our respect for McKnight. In fact, we had so much to talk about, we completely lost track of time.

It was only when my mum came in and told me to start on my work when I realised I had been on the phone for three hours with Brian. Hmm… not bad indeed!

"I got to go, my mum’s going hysterical."

Brian said between laughing, "So I’ll see you in school tomorrow! Good night… bye."

We hung up after that.

Man, did I have sweet dreams.

And it continues...
Man, I had enough of this nonsense!

You are the number person here.