I sit there, staring at the English teacups like it was the most foreign thing in the world. I can’t understand this. Why English teacups? Why two English teacups? What exactly does it mean? What is the motive behind this? I just don’t get it.
There’s two of ‘em English teacups, man! What the hell does that mean?
QuibblerGirl: Call him! Give him a call! At least tell him you got the stuff!
Twincest: Yeah, man! Call him and thank him!
Easy for you to say.
Can’t I call him tomorrow?
Padfoot: Get on that bloody phone and call him NOW! Just call him and every day is gonna be a brighter day!
Moony: Seriously, kid. It’s time for you to pull yourself together…
I pick up my cell phone and flip it open. I want to dial the number. I really do. But I just can’t. My shoulders tremble just thinking about dialing the number.
I…I can’t…I can’t do it…I’m WAY nervous than I was in the subway train…I’ve been holding onto the cell phone since earlier, but still I…
HerbologyFreak: I just don’t get you! You’re the Train Boy Who Lived to tell the tale, man! Where’s all that guts you got gone to? C’mon, I’m cheering you on here! Train Boy! Train Boy! Get your feet on, Train Boy!
Train Boy…huh?
All I did was spill my crazy little misadventure onto the forum chatroom out of impulse, and now they call me the Train Boy Who Lived. A little bit much, isn’t it?
Another reply comes in. I lean over to read it.
Padfoot: Hey, to be honest, I’m gay too. In my POV, I wouldn’t think too much about you giving me a call. At most, I’d just think between the lines of “Oh goody. You got my gift. You’re so sweet to call me to tell me about this” or something like that.
QuibblerGirl: It’s up to you whether you wanna write to him or call him. Just give it a shot and see what happens. It can’t be that bad.
From a fellow gay’s point of view, huh? Is it…really as simple as it is?
I pick up the phone again. I repeat the same thing I did before. I try to steel my heart, pick up my guts to do it, but…
I still can’t do it, guys…
Twincest: Good God, you moron! He’s trying to test you to see how sincere you are! How can you skip out just like that?! C’mon! All or nothing here! Pick up the damn phone!!!
Padfoot: You must call right now! You drag this on and you’re gonna keep telling yourself all sorts of friggin’ excuses not to call and you’ll be left for naught!
HerbologyFreak: You’re standing at the crossroad of human mankind! You gotta think before you leap!
Know-It-All: If you don’t call, you’re gonna leave him off with the impression that you’re just some good guy. Think about it. He picked out those English teacups Just. For. You!
I read through the replies and feel a sort of warmth inside me I hadn’t felt in a long time since I left home. Why? Why are you all so concerned for a stranger like me? why are you all so hyped up to give suggestions and encouragement…to a simple man like me that you have never even met…?
It’ll be hard on me now if I disappoint them and don’t go along with it. But the butterflies in my stomach multiplies every time I try to dial the number.
Gah~! I thank you guys, I really do. But I just can’t bloody do it~! My hands just keep getting Level 8 earthquakes here! You think maybe a letter would be better?
HerbologyFreak: Everyone’s got it once, even I did, but with girls, mind you. But it wouldn’t be that bad once you gone through this hurdle.
Moony: If you call now, it might change your life. Who knows you might actually get the man of your dreams!
QuibblerGirl: I agree. Calling is still better. Letters are friggin’ cliffhangers.
I know that! I know friggin’ well about that! But…But…my hands just won’t listen to me! You try being in my shoes for once!
I groan and continue to stare listlessly at the teacups before another reply comes in.
Know-It-All: Come to think of it, what is it really the meaning behind sending a man English teacups? We should think about that idea.
Moony: It’s just a pair of teacups. Wouldn’t mean too much of anything. Don’t put your heads in a bunch.
PotionsMaster: Btw, from which manufacturing company did these teacups come from?
I pick up the cups. There is no logo or writing on it, not even inside the cups. I look at the bottom and see some old emblem that reminds me of a private school badge with Old English Text written along in rather small intricate words, with rose vines as decors at the bottom of the emblem.
It says ‘HOGWARTS’. Does that ring a bell to anyone?
The response I get is phenomenal.
Twincest: HOGWARTS?!
QuibblerGirl: You don’t mean THAT Hogwarts, do you?!
Padfoot: OMFG!! That is awesome! He’s friggin’ serious, man! You gotta call him now!
PotionsMaster: Hogwarts, huh? He must be loaded.
Moony: There is no way someone would give Hogwarts as a simple thank you gift!
Know-It-All: I can’t believe it’s Hogwarts! Far-out! That is like the most expensive gift ever! He’s a dime in a dozen, man!
Twincest: ZOMGWTFBBQ!! HOGWARTS!!
HerbologyFreak: Hogwarts?! You mean THE Hogwarts, right? Not the cheap rip-offs from the Ollivander’s branch, right?
PotionsMaster: Seems like everyone’s getting excited… (sweat)
Twincest: Hogwarts! Good god, Hogwarts!! What are you waiting for, you idiot! Call the sucker!!!
I am dazed. Freakin’ dazed. I never knew Hogwarts is such a big brand. My hands are trembling so bad, I can’t hold the teacups right.
Y-Y-You mean…as in Hogwarts, the niche branch company of The Four Founders Amalgamated that makes posh household items and benefactors to tons of charity, projects, social events and scholarships? T-T-That branded Hogwarts? I-I-I didn’t know they make teacups…!!
The replies I get more or less describe me incredulously as a caveman of the modern times for not knowing stuff like this.
I can’t believe he would give me such an expensive gift. Does that mean anything? Could it be…?
Nah, it’s not that easy, boy! There’s no such thing as free lunch in this world.
But then again, nothing is absolute…
Get a grip! He wouldn’t…!
But…But…
I guess it is worth a shot to call him to thank him for this. After all, he did go through all that trouble getting me a pricey gift like this.
I pick up the phone. I check and recheck the number to see if I dialed it right. I feel like some kind of junior James Bond being sent on his first mission as I press the green call button.
I hear the ringing tone in my ear. The ring tone sounds almost like the heavy beating of my heart.
I hear the phone being picked up. I jump like I have ants in my pants.
“H-H-H-Hello?! I-I-I-It’s me…”
“The person you have called is not available. Please leave a message after the beep…”
I feel like being crushed by the biggest boulder I could think of.
Damn it!
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