Lucky Number

I was awakened by an unpleasant alarm. My phone, which I had left in the pocket of my jacket carelessly thrown on the floor while undressing last night, was blaring its morning trill. I struggled to open my eyes and looked at the screen. Seven in the morning... what the hell? It's Saturday, my day off - I even hadn’t set an alarm!

Grumbling, I stretched and, dangling my arm off the bed, fumbled for the jacket and pulled the phone out of the pocket.

Only then did I realize — it wasn’t an alarm. Someone was calling. I finally blinked the sleep away and looked at the screen. A call from an unknown number. And the phone... wasn’t even mine.
I shot up from the bed and flung the phone away like a piece of hot coal.

I was scared. This wasn’t my phone. I was absolutely sure of it. I turned quickly — my own phone was lying on the table, charging, right where I’d left it before going to bed.

The unfamiliar phone was still ringing, and I was panicking — especially because I had picked it up. Now it had my fingerprints. Who knew whose phone this was? And more importantly — how did it end up with me? Maybe I should just take it straight to the police...

"Alright," I thought. "I can always wipe the prints off later, that’s no big deal."

I hated answering calls from unknown numbers — especially on someone else’s phone — but still... maybe it was serious. The phone had been ringing for a couple of minutes — someone was clearly desperate to talk.

I swallowed nervously and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” said an unsure female voice, “this is my friend’s phone, she lost it last night, and…”

“Wait a second,” I rubbed my forehead irritably, trying to remember last night, “Where did she lose it? And when?”

“At Lichterfeld… the bar nearby… around one in the morning… she had a lot to drink… and only realized too late that the phone was gone…”

“Sounds plausible,” I thought. “I was at that bar around then, and it was packed — not hard to lose a phone. But for it to fall into my pocket?” Still, I was leaning toward taking it straight to the police.

“I can return the phone, I don’t want or need someone else’s belongings. But how will you prove it’s yours?”

“Password, Face ID, that sort of thing.”

“Fair enough,” I thought. By the way, I actually couldn’t even unlock the smartphone — calls responding was the only option available to me so far.

“Alright. Let’s meet near Lichterfeld. In half an hour.”

“Okay.”

The call ended, and the screen went completely black
— I couldn’t access anything even if I wanted to. I yawned, shook my head, and started getting dressed.

***

It was a gray Saturday morning. No rain was forecast, but the sky looked gray and threatening with bad weather. Two girls were sitting in a small diner, watching the street through the large wall-to-wall window. Across the road stood the very bar they’d visited the night before — Lichterfeld.

“So… do you think it’ll work?” one girl asked, uncertainty in her voice.

The one asking was Ursula. A diligent student, first-year university girl, quiet and serious — a near-wallflower type you’d never imagine in a bar or on a dance floor. She was leaning on the table, holding her head with her hands. Long, straight blond hair fell around her face. She looked at the window, doubtful.

“Of course it will! I just spoke to him,” Steffi smiled broadly. Focused and energetic, she was always ready to jump into any action. She had no personal stake in the situation but was always happy to help a friend — especially if the plan promised some excitement.

Steffi sat opposite her. She had shoulder-length wavy red hair and a slightly upturned freckled nose that only added to her detective-like charm — especially with her beige raincoat. Her green eyes sparkled conspiratorially behind her glasses; she seemed thrilled with anticipation.

They were both first-year students and had only known each other for about a week, yet it felt like a lifetime. Total opposites — Ursula, calm and quiet, rarely smiling, and Steffi, a whirlwind of energy, a sparkplug in any group. And yet, somehow, they got along famously. Perhaps not so surprising — opposites attract, after all.

What was surprising was that Ursula herself had come up with this little stunt, and the novelty of it only made Steffi more excited.

Ursula kept watching the street melancholically, propping up her chin, trying to seem indifferent, but finally turned to her friend:

“What?”

“Is he close?” Steffi asked, almost buzzing with anticipation like it was her meeting him scheduled on the list.

Ursula rolled up her blouse sleeve to check the time — they were waiting for her phone, after all.

“About twenty minutes, I think.”

“Alright,” Steffi sighed impatiently. “I’ll grab another coffee. Want one?”

“No, I’m good,” Ursula shook her head.

***

I was briskly walking down the street, the morning wind in my face. Everything would’ve been perfect if that unfamiliar phone didn’t weigh on me like a stone. I don’t know — maybe I was losing my mind — but it felt like the phone was heating up, like it might burn a hole through my pocket.
I stopped in the middle of the street and pulled it out — nope, not overheated. A good iPhone — one of the latest models — in a nice grey-green protective case. The screen was still completely locked, no new calls, so I put it back and kept walking.

***

“Excuse me!” Steffi called the cashier behind the counter. “I ordered coffee…”

“Five minutes, sorry!” the girl wiped sweat from her forehead. Something beeped in the kitchen, and she rushed to pull fresh pastries from the oven.

“Five minutes ago you said it would be ready in two,” Steffi muttered and stared out the window.

“Hey, Ursula?”

“Hm?” She turned from the window and looked at Steffi.

“What do you even see in him? I just don’t get it.”

“Who are you talking about?” Ursula seemed genuinely confused.

“Oh, come on,” Steffi rolled her eyes. “You can drop the act with me. Him — the guy from last night at Lichterfeld.” She nodded toward the window.

***

“Should I really just turn the phone in to the police?” I thought. “But if it really is hers, she’ll prove it. Especially if it’s an iPhone — it’s packed with modern tech…”
Alright. No more second-guessing. We agreed to meet in half an hour, and time was nearly up.
I gripped the unfamiliar phone in my pocket, crossed the intersection, and reached Lichterfeld. The place still hadn’t been cleaned after last night — trash cans overflowing with bottles and cans, even more litter scattered near the entrance. The bar was closed until 5 PM.
No one was around. I looked around and decided to wait. She must not be here yet.

***

“Hey, isn’t that him?” Steffi leaned closer to the window for a better look.

Ursula nodded.
There he was, across the street from them, standing near the bar — glasses, short black coat, jeans. His black hair was a bit tousled. They couldn’t see his face from here, but it was clearly him — the same guy from the bar last night.

“Yeah, not bad,” Steffi murmured, practically pressing her nose to the glass. “Ugh, come on dude, just turn around.”

***

I had arrived a little early, so I was pacing back and forth. The wind was ripping leaves off the trees, and the clouds were thickening.
I looked up at the sky. Yep, looks like rain after all. If that’s the case...

I glanced around. There was a café directly across from the bar. Perfect — I’d wait there, grab a coffee. When she shows up, I’ll just cross the street.

***

“Look, he’s coming!” Steffi exclaimed.

“Damn, that’s not part of the plan,” Ursula panicked. “Wait a couple of minutes, see where he sits, then call me, okay?”

Steffi had no clue what was going on but liked the game, so she nodded.
Ursula grabbed her bag and hurried off toward the restrooms.

The café door opened, and the guy walked in. Steffi gave him a quick once-over and silently admitted that Ursula did have some taste in guys.
She kept watching. He ordered a coffee, took a seat not far from her, looked around, glanced at the phone, stood up a bit to peek out the window toward the bar, then sat back down and took a sip.

***

“Damn it, how long do I have to wait?” I thought. No one had approached the bar.
There was a red-haired girl sitting a few tables away, and it seemed like she was watching me. Could it be her? But why wouldn’t she just call the phone?

“Alright,” I looked around again, “if no one calls or shows up at the bar in three more minutes, I’m going to her. Done deal.”

***

“Okay,” Steffi stared at her watch. “One minute passed. Time to call. What the hell is Ursula thinking anyway?”

She pulled out her phone and dialed the number.

***

“Two and a half minutes… 2:31… 2:32…” — the phone’s vibration in my pocket broke my count, but no matter.
I pulled out the unfamiliar phone — it was the same number as an hour ago.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Hello... Ah, I think I see you! Is that you, in the café, at the next table, wearing a black coat?”

I quickly looked around – yes. The red-haired girl in glasses and a beige trench coat at the next table was definitely talking to me. “Finally, she’s found.” I exhaled in relief, stood up, walked over to her, and showed her the unfamiliar phone.

“Is this yours?”

“No,” the girl shook her head.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘no’?” I couldn’t wrap my head around it, but she quickly added:

“It’s my friend’s. She’s here, nearby. She’ll be back soon.”

“Oh, really?” I looked around, feeling a bit awkward.

“And you can call me Steffi,” she said, offering her hand.

I introduced myself and shook her hand in return.

“My friend will be back soon. We’ll give her the phone,” Steffi nodded confidently, flipping her thick red hair. “Sorry you had to wait. And on a weekend morning, too...”

“Oh, it’s fine, no big deal,” I waved it off, finishing my coffee.

***

“God, Ursula, where the hell are you?” Steffi was starting to get genuinely annoyed, though she kept smiling sweetly, trying to stall for time.

She was still enjoying the game, but…

***

TEN HOURS EARLIER

“Yeah... mmm... got it,” Ursula nodded along to Steffi’s story, but without much enthusiasm.

They were sitting at a table – Ursula, Steffi, and a guy who had suddenly appeared and turned out to be Steffi’s boyfriend. All evening, Ursula had felt like the third wheel on what was clearly a date. As soon as Steffi’s boyfriend got up to use the restroom, Ursula lashed out at her.

“I’m sorry!” Steffi pleaded, holding her hands together apologetically. “I wanted it to be just us too! I kept telling him I wanted to hang out with my friend, chat a bit, but he just wouldn’t take the hint.”

“Whatever, forget it,” Ursula waved her off. “You owe me.”

“Owe you what?” Steffi didn’t get it.

All evening, while Steffi cooed at her boyfriend, Ursula had been glancing around the bar, sipping her beer. Eventually, she spotted a cute guy sitting alone. Normally, she’d never do what she was about to do – it just wasn’t her style. She was the straight-A student, the modest, obedient girl – but that version of her was left behind, along with school and the people in it.

Something sparked inside her – maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe a newfound inner resolve, or both. Either way, she decided to approach the handsome guy in the black coat sitting at the bar.

Ursula picked up her glass and sat down next to him.

“Hi!”

“Hi.”

***

Last night, on that quiet Friday evening, I just wanted to drink my usual two pints of Guinness in peace before heading home to sleep.
Some girl latched onto me. A cute blonde – actually, very much my type – but damn, I was exhausted after the university exams… Everyone warned me the first semester would be tough, but I had no idea how tough.

So, I just said “hi.” I didn’t have the energy or the desire to keep a conversation going, so I sat there silently, sipping my beer, enjoying the atmosphere.
The girl huffed in annoyance, slid off the barstool, hesitated for a second as if fumbling for something in her pocket, then straightened up, gave me a displeased look, grabbed her beer, and went back to her table.

***

NOW

“Finally!” Steffi exclaimed inwardly when she saw Ursula returning from the restroom, bag slung over her shoulder.
That guy – the one whose name Steffi didn’t even know – had been sitting across from her for a couple of minutes now. The awkward silence was dragging on, so Ursula returned just in time.

***

“Wait – her?” was all I could think as the blonde girl took her seat. I instinctively held out the unfamiliar phone.

“Oh, safe and sound – thank you! I didn’t even introduce myself yesterday – I’m Ursula,” she tilted her head and offered her hand.

I automatically shook it and nodded.

“Thanks!” she said, grabbed the phone, flipped her long blond hair back with one hand, and smiled at the camera. The smartphone vibrated and unlocked.

“Good – so it’s hers after all,” I thought. Honestly, I had zero interest in figuring out how her phone ended up in my coat last night. I just wanted to go home and get back to sleep now that everything was sorted.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going then, since everything’s fine?”

And then Ursula grabbed my hand, stopping me from leaving the table.

“Thank you so much! I don’t even know how to thank you... or rather... I want to…”

Steffi watched with interest as Ursula mumbled the last words, blushed, looked down, and began nervously rummaging through her bag.
Shyness was definitely a part of Ursula’s nature, no doubt. But overcoming that shyness with boldness – now that was new. Steffi had never seen this side of her before.

Ursula finally found what she was looking for, flipped her hair back again, and sat up straight, her cheeks flushed – maybe from embarrassment, maybe from anticipation.

***

“Damn, she really is amazing,” Steffi felt her breath catch for a moment. And she wasn’t the only one – the guy across the table was staring at Ursula, a mix of surprise and admiration in his eyes.

What an actress is she, indeed – she dropped her phone on the poor guy, made him worry, staged this whole scene. Still, Steffi couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So, um…” Ursula spoke softly, just loud enough for the two of them to hear, “I’ll be home alone... today and tomorrow, so...”

She hesitated and carefully placed what she’d taken from her bag on the table.

“Cards?” Steffi wondered.

“A pack of cigarettes?” I was confused.

Ursula slowly opened her hand and moved it away. Lying on the table was a pack of condoms.

“So... what do you think...” she said, cheeks flaming, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She glanced boldly, first at Steffi, then at me without any hesitation in her glance anymore at all – “want a threesome?”

***

I had just received an offer that was very hard to refuse.