The next day, I was sitting on a bench outside the NYU main campus, waiting for Ade to come out. It was a Monday, cold and bleary. Not many people came into the Espresso House on this day of the week, so I wasn't needed around there. Not for a while, at least. Since I had an entire morning to kill, I decided not to mope around the apartment for once but to spend some time with Ade since we hadn't seen each other for a while. After the fight we had yesterday morning, I was more than happy to finally have his attention.

College students and professors littered the campus, some talking and others rushing in or out of class. There was also this strange dude playing the ukulele near the statue of Harry Truman. Unfortunately for him, the former president was his only audience. Man, college life must be weird. 

It was 1 p.m. now. Ade was supposed to meet me here thirty minutes ago. However, I wasn't one to worry myself with punctuality so I had no problem waiting longer for Ade. He was never on time for anything, anyways. As the campus emptied and the sky darkened, and when Ade didn't come out of any building half an hour later, it was then that I began to fret.

Chewing my nails anxiously, I watched the doors for Ade. There was no sign of him. None. Squat. Not one spiffing hint that he was around. Ade knew he was supposed to meet me. He knew it. He wouldn't just leave me here. Right? I mean, I know I wasn't the recipient of the Best Friend of the Year award, but Ade was too nice to abandon me...right? 

Several more minutes passed. Half an hour turned into one full hour, which turned into two hours. Agitated now, I pulled out my phone and texted him an urgent hello. Twenty more minutes passed with no reply and no sign of Ade. The campus was almost empty by now. Only the ukulele dude and a group of professors and I were left. Pretty soon, the professors headed back into the building. Now it was just ukulele dude and I.

The seconds ticked by. Finally coming to the end of my patience, I stood up. The blood began to circulate through my legs again, bringing along an annoying cramp for my left foot. I glanced around again, my eyes hoping against hope to pick up the back of Ade's curly head of hair or at least an arm of his, or something! Not a detached arm, though. Oh God, no. I'd rather see no full Ade than to see a part of him, like his dick- okay, so maybe I was getting a bit panicked.

But don't panic, Florence. I'm sure there is a perfectly good reason as to why Ade was not coming out of the building. Maybe he needed to show something to a teacher. Maybe he was looking for extra credit. Maybe the janitor was washing the path to his only way out of the building and he wasn't allowed to walk on it until the floors dried. Maybe he was dead. Maybe class ran too late and his teacher didn't realize it but continued teaching. No reason to panic. No worries. Everything is a-okay, Florence.

I panicked.

Picking up my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and hurried out before anyone saw me looking all sad and lonely and began to ask questions. I should have gone back inside and asked the whereabouts of Ade, but I couldn't. I didn't know my way around any of the buildings, and the people inside were too intimidating for me. Heck, I didn't even remember where the administration building was despite Ade showing me yesterday.

I checked my phone again. No messages. 

Maybe Ade was kidnapped. Maybe he slipped on a banana peel in the cafeteria and broke his butt, and I was just kept out of the loop. I did see an ambulance in the street like ten minutes ago. Okay, calm down Florence. Nothing happened. Let's be realistic here. No one ever died from slipping on a banana peel. Maybe he was attacked by a deranged gorilla because he stepped on the gorilla's banana- oh no, I think I'm gonna cry. Deep breaths, Florence. Deep breaths.

Dialing his number, I pressed my phone up to my ear and half-expected to hear his voice pick up from the other side. Still biting my nails impatiently, I started walking back to the Espresso House. It was a lengthy ways away, and without Ade, I felt even lonelier. Growing up in New York, I mastered that tough city girl attitude. It was just that in the inside, I was a total scaredy-cat. I never even got mugged. If I were to be mugged, however, I'm pretty sure I could handle it. Like, I had about a thirty percent chance I wouldn't die. 

To my disappointment, it went straight to voicemail. I cleared my throat and decided to leave Ade a message, just in case. "Hey, Ade." I said. Pretty good so far. It's not like I was wandering around Brooklyn with a backpack full of Twizzlers. Oh wait, yes I was. "I don't know where you are but you were supposed to meet me outside on the main campus. I waited for you for, like, three hours now. Call me back, Ade. I'm scared. I think I'm lost. Are you dead? You better not be dead, Ade. Seriously, I'll kill you. Where are you? Come get me, please? Unless you're being attacked by a gorilla, I expect a call back in five minutes."

Turning my phone off, I pocketed it and kept walking. I could see the bridge in the distance. But I had no idea where I was going. The street signs and surroundings didn't seem familiar at all, and the countless Starbucks and fast food places was making my head spin. After about thirty more minutes of wandering around uselessly, the panic in my chest I felt earlier didn't compare at all to what I was feeling now. 

The sky darkened even more. A storm was on its way, the clouds angry and dark. I checked my phone again and again. Still no reply. Where was Ade? Maybe I should have waited a bit longer at the university. Maybe he was out there right now, looking for me. Uneasy and restless, I turned around and walked back down the block, thinking I could go back. After some turns, I realized I had no idea where the university was and all this walking around was making me even more confused. Besides, Ade had his phone with him. Even if he was back on campus, he would have called. 

Several more minutes of fruitless searching passed. Thoroughly disgruntled, I decided to sit my sorry little butt down somewhere and figure out how to get home. I couldn't call my parents. They were in New York City for the day with Martha and Stewart Lane, meeting with lawyers to figure out what to do with the Lane diner. And I didn't even have Clancy's number so I had no way of contacting her either. She wouldn't give it to me because she knew I was always going to send her pictures of cats. If I did have Clancy's number, I'd totally do that though. And there was no way I was going to wander into a police precinct, either. Not after what happened last time.

So I did what any normal person would do.

I started crying. 

Sniffling and wiping tears off my face, I sat down on a bench next to a tree to figure out my next step. Why the hell did I ever leave the campus in the first place? Stupid idea, Florence. I thought I could find my way home. Turns out I didn't even know what subdivision the Espresso House was located in. There I was, crying my eyes out all alone in Brooklyn with no one to help me except for a tree. And the tree wasn't even going to help me. I didn't even have the ukulele guy for company.

"You alright, miss?" A male voice asked. I looked up to see an elderly man staring down at me, cane in one hand and a little chihuahua in the other. He looked concerned.

"Yes." I nodded, trying to pretend I wasn't just sobbing my heart out a few seconds ago. "I'm fine."

"Do you need any help?" He offered politely.

I knew better than to accept offers. Heck, this was New York City. No matter how nice a stranger seems or how completely innocent intentions might be, you just never took favors from New Yorkers. Besides, it was always the poor unsuspecting old person who turned out to be a crazy axe murderer. Shaking my head, I stood up. "No, thank you. I'll just be on my way."

"Best of luck, dearie." The old man waved as I walked away. I waved back and turned the corner, nearly walking into a gaggle of preteens. Apologizing profusely, I continued to walk and sniffle and feel sorry for myself. 

Turning into an alleyway, I hurried along. Alleys made me nervous. This special one was between two rundown buildings. One of those giant trash bins stood against the side. The cracked gravel path had puddles of water on the indented areas. Graffiti covered the broken brick walls, most spray paint of names written in neon colors. It was actually kind of pretty. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Great. I wasn't just going to be lost, I was going to be lost in the rain. If anything, that just made me feel worse. 

Checked my phone again. No messages except one from an advertising company offering free samples of lube flavored as different desserts. I almost ordered a strawberry shortcake one until I really did walk into someone. 

My face crashed into a hard chest, crushing my nose. Pain flowered up on the spot. I think I also might have accidentally kicked the shins of whoever I walked into, because the person let out a grunt of surprise as well. I stumbled over my own feet and nearly fell into a puddle, thankfully catching myself against one of the walls. Rubbing my sore nose, I glared at the stranger. Even though it was an accident, it really didn't help my attitude towards this whole messed up day.

I recognized the cologne before I recognized the face. Only one person could smell that good and still be considered a bad person.

"Florence?" Wolfe stepped back, lowering the hood of his jacket to fix me with a shocked expression. "What are you doing here?"

I stepped back too, equally as shocked. Of all the people I could have run into, it had to be him. To be honest, I'd rather walk into a tree or something. Would've hurt less. "Wolfe!" I reared away, stunned. "What are you  doing here?"

He looked good. Like, really good. For the first time since I've seen him, he wasn't wearing a suit. Instead, Wolfe wore a black jacket with a little sports company logo above the breast with grey sweats and Nike sneakers. All of that was easily conformed to a musclebound body beneath the workout clothes. A sports wristband was on his wrist and he held a set of keys.

But what really got to me were the bruises. Wolfe looked like he took a beating. His knuckles were busted, skin rubbed open and raw from unnecessary friction. Both of his hands were wrapped in bandages, poorly set and barely covering what they needed to. There was a little nick of blood on the corner of his jaw and the skin on the top left side of his cheek, right beneath his eye, was bruised and a dark pink, like he was punched squarely in that spot. However, his blue eyes were striking as ever, lips red and pulled down in a frown.

Wolfe stared. "Are you crying?"

"No!" I hissed, stalking past him angrily. Wolfe didn't let me get five steps past him before grabbing the back of my jacket and pulling me back. At his words, I could feel tears filling up my eyes at my predicament. Sniffling loudly, I pried his fingers off my clothes. "I'm fine. Leave me alone."

"Why are you crying?"

"That-" I jabbed my finger into his chest. "-is none of your business. I need to go."

"Florence." He still sounded amused. "Are you lost?"

I lied straight through my teeth. "Not at all." I shrugged, trying to appear as if this was an everyday thing. "In fact, I was just heading to that-" I pointed to the first building I saw, which unfortunately happened to be a spice shop. "-that place-" Now what kind of excuse could I make to go along with it? Wolfe turned around to look where I pointed, and then back to me with a skeptical but still amused expression. "-to...get some...sugar for, um...cupcakes. To get some sugar to make cupcakes."

"I see." Wolfe smirked. "And what flavor are these imaginary cupcakes?"

"The sweet flavor of minding your own business." I snapped, trying to shove past Wolfe once more. Again, it didn't work. He just easily dragged me back. As relieved as I was to find Wolfe, I'd rather be alone and lost than to be with him and found. My chances of going back home alive was better off that way. No meddling in the lives of criminals, dammit. There was a story last year in Chicago where some girl was kidnapped by a gang of criminals and they made her jump off the top of a burning hospital building or something. I didn't want to end up like that.

"It's going to rain soon." Wolfe craned his neck and looked up at the sky. His Adam's apple became very prominent. 

Without hesitating, I jabbed it with my index finger. Instantly Wolfe bent double, making these awful choking noises. It took a long moment to finally gain his composure but when he finally did, Wolfe glared at me.

"Are you actually fucking serious, Florence-"

"I panicked."

He sighed. 

I sighed too. "I have to go."

"Go make your imaginary cupcakes with sugar from the exotic spice shop that doesn't sell sugar, you mean?" His voice was tinged with laughter. And then his expression changed from one of playfulness to complete seriousness. The transition in his attitude was sudden and startled me a bit. Wolfe's eyes raked me up and down, as if checking me for injuries. As if he wasn't covered in them. "I'm gonna go out on a stretch here and guess that you're trying to head back to the Espresso House. Well, sweetheart, you're as far from it as you possibly could be. Espresso House is in the subdivision of Williamsburg. We're in the middle of Prospect Heights. You're about 7 miles away from where you need to be."

"Oh well, excuuuse me, Mr. Geographer-"

Wolfe rolled his eyes. "You're as far away from home as you could be, Florence."

I stared at him vehemently. "Thank you for the update on my life. I don't know how I survived 18 years without you."

"You're welcome."

"I utterly despise you. Your physical presence is enough to make me want to vomit. Your attitude and your personality is downright atrocious, and while you may look like you were sculpted by the gods of beauty, the rot  inside of you counteracts and overwhelms any good deed you do, which is a rare thing in itself since you are a despicable  human being. I can't stand the sight of you. I hate your face. I hate your face so much-" Angrily, I wrung my hands together to exemplify whatever action I was trying to convey doing to his face. "-and I just want to- ugh! You are the worst, Wolfe!"

Wolfe kissed the palm of one of his injured hands and blew it to me. "I hate the fact that I can't say the same."