There is a yellow ball

I think my brother thinks lowly of me. He once commented, at the end of a summer day - back when I still had summer vacation - that my phone hasn't sounded, and implied that I didn't have any friends. (Which is probably true; there's a reason for those air quotes lately.) Today, I noticed I have 23 notifications on Facebook, and he answered, "23 lang?" I must be such a loser.

Oddly enough, I haven't given up on reconnecting with my so-called friends, and only because the term "acquaintances" sound so harsh considering the past. Today, for instance, someone dropped a message on YM, announcing a new phone number, and I quickly took my phone to list it down, only I never really had her phone number in the first place.

Gaille and I aren't really close, which is expected, because it's a rarity for a regular LIA student to be close with a LIA-COM student. Those guys stick together a lot. Well, sure, we've bumped into each other in many classes, especially research class, where I was a sore thumb, and journalism class, which remains debatable. However, we were classmates in gender studies class, proven by the many candid photos of her that I took, which definitely sounds freaky, although it was really an effort to document every day of my last term.

All I'm saying is, me not having her number was a surprise initially, but once you get the background, you understand why.

So I took my phone, took the number down, and sent a text message. "Apparently I never had your number until now," I said, before finally introducing myself. Only then did I realize that she was online, and that meant I spent one peso on something I could've done for free. Well, slightly.

"Was that you?" she asked online.

"That was me," I answered.

I wasn't pushing for a conversation. I didn't expect it; she was letting go, and I was just continuing what I wanted to express, which wasn't anything gloopy, but rather, my surprise that she is actually around. "I didn't realize you're online!" I said, laughing through the keyboard while trying to remember what I wanted to do. I'd end up forgetting it anyway.

"That's funny," she answered. "I sent you a message!"

"I've yet to receive it," I answered, grabbing my phone and waiting for Edwyn Collins to sing that song that's moot now considering the scenario. "So..."

"No," she answered. "I meant the YM message. So you should've seen the yellow ball beside my name."

But of course, I saw the yellow ball beside her name, which is why I felt a bit flustered, and a little more confused.

"Wait, wait," I said. "I meant I didn't realize you were online until after I sent you the text."

"Yes, and I meant it's funny since I sent you a YM message," she said. "You would've seen the yellow ball beside my name. Am I confusing you?"

Actually, she was.

"You are confusing me," I said.

It wasn't getting any clearer.

"I thought so," she answered.

It finally did.

"And that's a rare thing," I said, somehow trying to save myself from hypothetical shame. But saying that meant I had to save myself from the idea that I'm being cocky - consider, folks, that some of my "friends" who willingly yet cowardly delete me on Twitter are cocky, or so I choose to believe - so I had to say something else. "Well, not that rare, but you know what I mean. You're not as confused as I am, if at all."

She just laughed. "It's weird because I didn't think that my reply would be confusing," she answered. "Oh well!"

It was amusing, but it could only take me so far. Besides, now I have her number, what do I do with it?

And your responses...

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