1.3

            Eventually the cold, cloudy days become too much to bear staying inside for, and on a night when I’m avoiding homework and myself, I step out into the city and stare up at the sky.

            It’s dark and cool – cool enough for me to see my breath. In mid-September, this weather is strange, but I don’t mind it. I just shove my hands into my jacket pockets and wander aimlessly down the streets. I wonder if Central Park is close, or a subway station. But realizing I didn’t look at any maps before or after I came to New York, I’m hopeless. I’m also horrible with directions.

            After a few blocks I find a fountain spraying water in the air and take a seat on the edge of the stone walls, away from the spray. I hug my jacket tighter to me, people watching as they pass me without a glance. I’m just the girl with the big, vacant eyes. If they knew any better, they probably would have thought I was crazy.

            Who’s to say I’m not?

            A face passes in the crowd, and for a second, I think I see him. The short, fluffy hair that’s styled perfectly across his forehead with the matching chocolate eyes. A grey coat that’s collar is up towards his chin as he hustles through the busy streets, and the full lips that I had loved kissing more than kissing itself.

            But then he turns, and his eyes aren’t brown. His jacket isn’t even the same one, and the hair – well, he never had the sides of his head shaved.

            I sigh, a cloud of air leaving my lips.

            Inside I’m shaking, every ounce of me filled with a mix of relief and fear. I don’t know which ones worse.

            Without a second thought, I rise from the fountain, turn back towards the way I came, and leave.