Sidetracked

I left the building and went around back, towards my car, parked a few blocks away. A gust of wind gave me a sudden chill. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and quickened my pace, gazing intently at the ground. Street lights reflected gently on wet pavement. My feet were already sore from standing, and now the cold hard ground beneath my thin soles was exacerbating the pain. Ignore it, I thought to myself. You'll be home soon enough.

Ahead, I heard the quiet chatter of young girls. I looked up to see an entire mob of them, huddled around the back door of the building. They were spilling into the street. I would have to push through them if I wanted to get to my car.

As I began to squeeze myself in between them, a huge bus rolled up, flashing its lights to signal the girls to move out of the way. It parked along the curb, condensing the girls onto the sidewalk, making my journey more difficult. The engine was running loudly. The girls elevated the volume of their chatter to compensate. I was annoyed. I just wanted to go home.

I had almost made my way to the far edge of the mob when the girls started screaming frantically. I turned around to see what the fuss was about. The back door of the building had opened up. Dim light poured out into the darkness. Two large men in black t-shirts emerged from the building and began directing the girls to step aside and make a path. Then I saw you.

You rushed out of the building, through the mob, and up the steps of the bus. One of the girls yelled out to you. You stopped, midway up the steps, and turned to face her. The girls' voices grew quiet, waiting for your answer. I wondered what she had asked - I couldn't hear anything amid the yelling.

"I don't know," you said. "Why don't you ask my stalker?" You looked directly at me with a childish smirk on your face.

The girls' eyes widened as they looked at me, and I suddenly felt very exposed and embarrassed. Why in the hell would you point me out like that? I folded my arms and glared at you angrily.

"Sorry," I responded with irritated sarcasm, "this stalker is going home now."

Some of the girls looked confused. Your expression became serious, and you stepped down off the bus and approached me.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

I eased my stiff posture. "Why did you do that?" I demanded.

"I don't know..." Your voice trailed off, your head sagged, and your eyes looked at the ground.

"Come here," I said, wrapping my arms around you. You squeezed me tightly, and the chill of the cold night left my body. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"When are you coming back?" I asked.

"I don't know. You'll probably know before I do."

"Then I guess I'll just keep stalking you until I find out."

We both laughed as you loosened your embrace and stood back. Your eyes twinkled in the darkness. "You should call me," you said.

"I would if I had your fucking phone number!"

You smiled. "I'll give it to you." You took a crumpled piece of paper out of your pocket and began writing on it. "If I don't answer, leave a message with your phone number."

Still smiling, I rolled my eyes. "Why? So you can never call me back?"

"I will call you. I promise."

I smirked. You handed me the piece of paper and I stuffed it deep into my pocket. "Whatever. I'll believe it when I see it." I looked at the ground, thinking to myself, that piece of paper is going to end up in the washing machine with these jeans.

I looked up again. You were grinning at me. "What?"

Suddenly, you grabbed me in a bear hug with both arms, lifted my feet off the ground, and spun me around and around. I shut my eyes and laughed out loud. You put me down and grinned again. "Oh god," I said. "Those girls have cameras. I hope this doesn't end up on the internet."

"I hope it does!" you said with a smile, grabbing me a second time and spinning me around even faster than before. I couldn't contain my laughter and I couldn't close my eyes. The street lights left lingering swirls in my vision.

You put me down and we both breathed heavily for a moment. "I have to go," you said.

"I know. I need to go too."

"Call me."

I let out a heavy sigh. "Ok," I said half-heartedly, smirking again.

"I mean it!" You walked back up the steps of the bus, and the doors whooshed closed behind you.

The bus's engine revved up and it pulled away. I suddenly became aware that all the girls were staring at me. I could hear them chattering again, asking questions.

"Oh crap," I said under my breath. I quickly turned and started walking away, disoriented. "Where the hell is my car?"

Two girls followed me anxiously.

"What's your name?"

"Do you know him?"

"No," I said, "I really don't." And I meant it.

Leaving the two puzzled girls behind, I tucked my hands into my pockets and found the crumpled piece of paper with my fingers. My body felt cold again. My feet hurt. I was tired. I was relieved to finally see my car parked down the street.

When I got home, I threw my jeans straight into the wash, phone number and all. Any further communication will have to wait until the next chance encounter.

If there is one.