[https://i.postimg.cc/cCxYHKmN/The-Girl-who-could-taste-time.gif]

'Okay, class, remember the paper is to be submitted on Friday! And don't forget to complete the exercise from page 36.'; Eske reminded his high-school class while he was cleaning the chalkboard. After every student had left the room and was distracted by his thoughts, Eske was interrupted by a woman. She came into the room uninvited and in very suggestive attire. 'Mr. Schrodinger, hi, I'm Anabel's mother.'

'The meeting with the parents is scheduled every Friday with a two-day notice.'; he turned to her with his arms crossed, trying not to lower his gaze to her generous cleavage.

'Oh, I was unaware, but perhaps you might open a small exception. I'm not really here because of Anabel.'; she looked at him, flapping her fake lashes.

He gave an uncomfortable smile: 'Well... Then I don't see why we should talk at all.'; he observed her sitting on top of one of the front desks and added with a dry tone: 'And please do not sit on the furniture. The school's rules are also applied to uninvited guests.'

'Oh! My, you are...'; she laughed nervously as she stood straight before him. 'There will be a party, adults only, and I thought that maybe you would be interested in joining in with me.'; she took off her jacket, revealing the white translucid blouse beneath it and continued: 'I'll even pay for your drinks.'; she smiled suggestively.

Eske did not answer immediately, so she said: 'You know what I mean!'

'Unfortunately, I do.'; he turned his back on her, continuing cleaning the board: 'Not only is your invitation professionally unethical as I can only imagine the discomfort that your daughter must feel imagining that her math teacher would be fucking her mum from behind.'

'Excuse me?'

'Oh, I wasn't clear? Should I draw it?'

'I was trying to be nice! You walk around like a..., a..., a sad man!'; she pointed out at him accusingly.

He sighed, bored: 'I don't give a fuck what people think, don't think. If they use me as a sexual fantasy when they fuck or masturbate, I really don't give a fuck. Now about your daughter, she is a fine student. A very bright young lady, but Math is not her strongest point, but she seems to be top of her class in biology. Since the final exams for the science module will require her to have a high grade in Math, I would advise her to get a tutor. Maybe a female one so you can keep your panties up.'; he finished wiping the board.

Since she was still standing in the middle of his classroom, he finally instructed: 'You may go now. We are done. Class dismissed.'

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Twice a week, due to parole, Eske had to go to this meeting for anger management, a bunch of misfits who were always angry. Grown-up adults sitten in a chair, forming a circle. The room smelled like sneakers' rubber and stale from lack of ventilation. It had been used as a gymnasium until recently. Now it stood empty except twice a week for angry, frustrated adults. It was inside the school where he worked as a math teacher, so, a two-minute walk after the last class.

Eske felt like an outcast here, especially today. He could hear an enormous tinnitus and had some issues with focusing. A sharp perpetual whistle that stuck in his sternum like a needle. He decided to not look at anyone and focus on a silly game on his mobile phone. It was a simple game of a snake eating apples, and the goal was to avoid it eating its own tail. So far, he has never won. A woman was speaking, complaining about every single thing in her life. The more she talked, the more the tinnitus grew bigger.

She went off into a rant that no one truly wanted to listen to, but then suddenly she stopped abruptly and shouted: 'And, you there with your phone, you are really pissing me off!'

Stolen novel; please report.

He raised his eyes directed at hers and couldn't believe it. He was from far prepared for what he could see and hear. From her face sprinkled with freckles and her blond hair falling down her shoulder, he heard number nine. Only number nine. His favourite digit.

[https://i.postimg.cc/hGtYKPZy/Alice.png]

His heart pounded like a loud drum. His breath came fast and short. He could hear her voice, Nona's voice rambling words, short sentences, her laughter. Her music. After all this time, he could listen to his favourite number: 'I don't need to look at you to hear you. And I agree.'

The woman's face went red as her dress: 'What?'

Eske hid his phone in his jacket pocket and found himself unable to take his eyes off the numbers around her:'You are right. People are idiots, especially when they don't understand the feeling of having lost. Not something that is expected, like parents or grandparents, but on people we seed a future with. Those are hard because there is no goodbye or closure. And it isn't your fault. You're right. You didn't push him in front of the truck. You miss him. That is an excellent reason to be pissed. I know I am.'; he could barely breathe. He wanted the whole room to be silent so he could listen to nine's symphony. He just wanted to hear.

[https://i.postimg.cc/SNc3rPzr/Eske.png]

He smiled, looking at the crackling of colours, the glowing notes up and down. It made him beam.

Realising that perhaps he was acting weird, he looked at his watch: 'I think we are done for today, isn't it right, Mr Counsellor?'

'Hum, yes, but, hum…, is Matt, my name is Matt.'; the man tried to speak, but everyone was already standing up and leaving the gym.

'Who cares? Nobody is saving the world today.'; and he stood up, following the group to the exit. He needed a smoke.

As soon he set his foot outside, he dug his pocket for a lighter with the fag hanging from his lips. Couldn't find it.

The woman in red with the orchestra of number nine was in front of him with a lighter like an uninvited saver: 'Maybe I can help?'

'Oh, you again. That is unexpected for an ex-cancer girl.'; he said, accepting the lighter, puffed on the fag, exhaled a long line of smoke and returned it to her: 'Thanks, see you next week, I guess.'; he couldn't stand being near her. It felt wrong. Something was so off.

'Are you waiting for someone?'; she asked.

'Aren't we all.'; he really didn't want to make small talk.

'I was thinking of going for a drink. Want to join me?'

He looked at her. She was strange. She was overdressed in red, with vivid lipstick and foundation hiding her cracked skin. He knew he should feel attracted by her. She was pretty, but no. He just felt terrified to hear Nona through this woman. As something is wrong with the whole picture. He shook his head: 'Are you trying to get me to hook up with you?'

'Oh wow, you are direct.'

'Yeah, I am. Look, Annie...'

'Alice.'; she interrupted.

'Right. Look, Alice, you seem nice, pretty and all, but I am not interested.'; he dropped the fag to the ground and stepped on it: 'So good luck to you, and as I said, see you next week.' He turned away before she could reply. And as he walked away from her, so did the number nine's voices fade away.

This is the story of the boy who could hear numbers almost at the finish line of the happiest of all endings. But he didn’t know, yet.

[https://i.postimg.cc/6q9LFb4w/The-Girl-who-could-taste-time-2.gif]