From A to Z

U

Adam sent Rachel a message a little before lunch to check whether she arrived home — or to the place she was rushing to go to — safely. But night has started casting its dark rays into his room and he has not received any word from her yet. He was starting to get worried. What if something happened to her? What if someone kidnapped her and took her for ransom? What if someone raped her and disposed of her body in a place where no one could find it? These were the thoughts that swarmed inside his head as the color of the sky turned into a deeper shade of black. Any of these scenarios were possible for Adam considering the way that Rachel dresses and flaunts her body. He knew that any man would not let that beauty go by unbothered once it passes by their gaze.

His worried mind was unable to think of simpler reasons like she might be busy with something else or maybe she was still hanging out with her friends, assuming she was with her friends, or as simple as she does not have any cellular balance left to reply to his message. His mind was trapped in his exaggeration.

Adam decided to call her. His first attempt was a failure because no one answered; this made him worry about her even more. He tried again but to no avail. He did it again; still, no one picked up. He did it again and again and again and again, but there was no one answering his call.

Failure and persistence have always been two opposing forces. A person's perseverance declines as the number of his failures increases. After some time, these two forces, represented by two curves in a graph, will intersect and that intersection is the breaking point of a person: the moment when one would stop trying in fear of the surmounting amount of failures that awaited him should he proceed to try; therefore, he would opt to succumb to his defeat.

Adam was close to that juncture. One more attempt, one more call, and he would give up.

After pacing around the room for a couple of minutes, after debating with himself, with a deep sigh, he made that last attempt, that last call; and finally, thankfully, someone picked up the phone. His chest slowly deflated and lost its heaviness.

"You made me worried sick," he said, exasperated from all his failed attempts.

"I'm sorry. May I know who this is?"

The voice was rough and unlike the soft tone of Rachel's, but Adam brushed this away because the voice of one person was not always the same when he or she was on the phone.

"It's Adam," he introduced himself, thinking that Rachel also did not recognize him for his voice might have sounded different.

"Adam?"

"Yes, Adam. The guy you met last night at the club? We played body shots, then after, we had—"

"Club? I didn't go to any club last night."

"Come on, Rachel, do not play tri—"

"Rachel? I'm sorry, I think you got the wrong number."

And the girl hung up.

Adam was speechless. Was Rachel playing with him on the phone or did she indeed give him a wrong phone number? If it was the latter, why did she? They had a lot of fun last night, and he felt that they made a connection. Or maybe it was only he who thought so? Did she give him a made-up number so he would not be able to run after her exactly like what he had done?

Adam would not know the answers to these questions because their paths would not cross anymore. He went back to that same club almost every night, hoping to catch her and demand an explanation, or at least a closure, from her — but she was gone. It was only a one-time thing, a one-night stand, a casual encounter.

Once again, he was wrong. Why did he even expect something more than that? It was a club — a place where people party, drink, smoke, and hook-up; it was not a place to find true love. Was he that desperate to find one that he had forgotten about that characteristic of a club?