Only a few days had passed when I was finally able to work up the nerve to return to the restaurant.

"I can't believe I'm doing this right now. I can't believe I'm doing this right now." I chanted to myself in disbelief as I approached the clear glass door, reaching for the brass handle with a sweaty palm.

"Oh, dear God," I muttered breathlessly. All eyes in the restaurant shot to me as I entered and quietly shuffled over to one of the vacant barstools, droning out the sound of my heels clacking against the floor with happy thoughts. The employees took turns taking surprised glances at me like I was a completely new, foreign person. I supposed that I either looked really good or really bad, and it seemed that the latter had to be the winning side. I fixed my eyes on the pale counter below me and adjusted my light blue blouse and short beige skirt, pulling my gray coat over my chest and tossing my dark brown curls over my shoulder. Only a few moments had passed when I dug into my bag to check the time on my phone.

12:20 PM.

I sighed, anxiously glancing through the windows every other second. Was I too early or too late? Part of me wanted to see him; the other half was more comfortable with his absence. A sharp pain was associated with the thought of him not showing up and I shook my head miserably. He doesn't even know me, what am I talking about? It's not like we formally set up a time to meet up! I tapped my leg impatiently, tentatively watching the people that entered and exited the restaurant.

I didn't check the time again until it reached one o' clock and my hopes sank lower and lower. Just a few more minutes won't hurt, I retold myself as they continually ticked by. And slowly, thirteen minutes went by with no change. I was somewhat relieved, somewhat depressed. I felt silly, timid, like a pleasant wallflower that people overlooked. As I rose out of my seat, the cashier I had met a few days ago called out to me, his hands fiddled with his pockets. He must've read the distress on my face as he looked concerned.

"Hey, if you aren't busy, would you like to go out sometime?"

I smiled politely, "Uh…sure? That would be nice…" I responded halfheartedly. I didn't want to let him down. Wouldn't it seem kind of conceited, considering that I kind of got stood up? He scratched his brunette locks and cracked a half smile.

"Uh, cool. See you later, then?"

"Yeah," I nodded before departing.

The wind wiped through my hair, stinging my eyes and causing them to tear up. I wiped them away with my sleeve, "Stupid, stupid, so fucking stupid!"

I twisted around, heading in the opposite direction of the dorms. I relaxed, taking in a deep breath of air and calmly following the current of the crowd as they passed by large shopping centers, with streams of people flowing in and out of them. Losing my thoughts, feelings, and myself in the ever-moving throng of the people, I wandered into the mall.


The sky was dark when I trudged on back to my dorm. Clouds of air expelled from my mouth as I fought off the cold. My heels clacked loudly against the pavement, perhaps more noticeable from the absence of people along the streets. The city was lit beautifully. Signs used bright florescent neon colors to draw in late customers. The roads gradually grew more silent the further I walked. I grew extremely wary of my surroundings. Amongst the noise of distant cars, I could hear light footsteps fade in and out. A dark figure darted into the shadows and I immediately picked up my pace. I felt an eerie shadow trailing me as I wandered through the twisted maze of brick and pavement. My shoulders locked in place and my breathing was hasty and shallow. The faint sound of footsteps drew nearer and nearer causing my hair to stand on end.

I panicked, breaking into a swift sprint and jolting around a corner, slamming into a man that quickly grabbed my arm once I recoiled. I let out a shrill scream, pulling my bag back and swinging wildly.

"Yo, chill out!" A familiar voice attempted to soothe. My eyes widened and my legs collapsed, fresh warm tears clouded my vision. "I hate it here! I fucking hate it here!" I shouted out of frustration between sobs, "I just want to go back home!" Moving a hand over my damp face, I glanced up at the man. He seemed broken-hearted, his brows drawn together and a prominent frown etched on his face. He shifted the large paper bag he carried to one arm and kneeled down, examining me through his lens.

"Hate it here? Why do you hate it?" He extended a dark gloved hand toward me. I composed myself before grabbing it and rising to my feet once again. My face was raw and torn, my throat dry and sore. I wiped away what I could with my sleeve and sniffled before I spoke, "I don't feel like talking about it," I spoke weakly, taking a few steps forward, now eager to get back to my dorm. I noticed that he kept up with me, his eyes affixed on me.

"That makes no sense! There's no reason to not love New York City!" He retorted. His eyes were fiercely set down on me. I swallowed, avoiding his gaze, and deflecting his previous comment.

"Y-You don't have to walk with me. I can make it from here." I spoke, meekly.

"Mm? It's not safe for a lady to go out walking by herself at this time alone, y'know?"

I glanced at him—bewildered, but comforted.

"I'll try to hurry, then. I don't want to hold you up or anything." I sped up, seeing that I was just a block away from the dorms.

"It's totally fine, b—wait! You didn't answer me earlier! Don't think that you're gonna get away with insulting this city without having someone show you around! You probably haven't even been to a Yankees game!"

I shrugged, pitifully shaking my head.

"You're insane! Look here, I'll do you a favor and save you total embarrassment by taking you to all of the great sites New York has to offer! I'll bet you money that you'll be so in love with this city, you won't even consider going back home!"

It seemed like 'no' was out of the question. Not that I minded, but his tenacity was something to definitely be admired. We had reached the concrete stairs that led up to the dorms. I fiddled with one of the fallen curls in my hair, a nervous habit. I cleared my throat before speaking, "Where would we meet tomorrow, then?"

"Ah," he tilted his head, glancing around the area, "Here, at noon."

"Alright," I nodded, "And also, I don't think I ever caught your name."

"Oh!" He blinked, "Alfred! Or just Al or whatever."

I paused, "I'm Emily, uh," I headed up the stairs, gazing back at him once I reached the door, "Thank for you earlier, uh, at the restaurant and just now. Walking me home,"

"No need to thank me," he shook his head and grinned, giving a thumbs up and pointing at himself, "It's just what a hero does."


I laughed pathetically at my reflection once I got a good look at myself in a mirror. My curls had fallen and hung limp over my shoulders, my clothes were wrinkled, and my heels were dirty. I spent the entire morning primping only to have it this happen. But still, I replayed Al's words in my mind, at least not all of it was a waste. Without even checking the time, I jumped in the bed, burrowing my face in one of the pillows. No longer holding back, I let out the loudest joyful squeal I could.