Number Four

- Melanie

In the next class, which was math, I couldn't focus on the lesson because all I thought of was Nate. Back in the classroom, when I opened the piece of paper he threw at me, it was his number scribbled in messy handwriting. I smiled. When did he write this down?

"Melanie? Why don't you answer my question because it looks like you already know this by the way you're not listening to anything I'm saying." I looked up to see my teacher along with the rest of the class looking at me.

I sighed, "Sorry Ms. Kim." When she turned back I rolled my eyes.

...

Before lunch, I told Jennie that I had to go to the bathroom and that she didn't have to wait for me.

She smiled at me worriedly. "Okay, just text me if you need something. Alright?"

I nodded as she hesitantly turned around and walked towards the cafeteria. As soon as she turned the corner of the hall, I turned back and took the stairs next to the bathroom. When I reached the very top of the stairs, I pushed the double doors that led to the roof.

I walked over to the very edge and looked at the scene in front of me. I could see people on the benches laughing with each other and some walking on the track field. My gaze shifted over to the school's football field and I saw Leo and his team playing soccer. I squinted my eyes trying to look for his blue jersey with 22 written in white. I found him and I saw that he was passing the ball to someone else. As Leo passed the ball, the guy with 4 on his jersey kicked it and scored. Was that Nate? Not caring about the height of the building, I leaned over the ledge, trying to see who it was.

As number 4 came closer to the bench to get a drink of water, his face was clearer and I could see that it was Nate. Then I suddenly remembered the piece of paper he gave to me.

'I should text him right now so that I don't forget,' I thought. I searched my hoodie trying to look for it but the only thing in my pocket was my phone. I started to panic. Did I loose his number already?! I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Nothing.

I stood there with my mouth open. How could I have lost it already? Should I ask him to write me another one? Wouldn't that be embarrassing? I groaned and face palmed myself.