Summer stared out the window. Here she was, returning to New York. She'd come here for university, but had graduated early, and returned home. She'd missed...her family. Oh, who was she kidding? She'd missed Zack. And now he was gone, and she was going after him. The train stopped, and she got off.
Summer had also changed a lot over the years. Her dark brown hair was just below shoulder length, and cut so it looked smart, but didn't get in her face. At the minute it was pulled back into a neat ponytail. She was wearing a gray trouser suit, with a lilac silk shirt and matching scarf around her neck. She was carrying her briefcase, as she'd come straight from work, where she'd been discussing the band's new album.
She looked around at the city. There was only one logical way to do this. She flipped open her cell-phone.
"Hello Zack. I'm in New York, and I'll meet you at-" she looked at the name of the nearest wine-bar. "-The Blue Moon in half an hour, ok? No, no questions until we talk. Goodbye." She hung up and slid the phone back into her pocket. She went into the wine-bar and ordered a white wine. When it came she sipped it, waiting for Zack.
Half an hour later Zack walked in. With his floppy brown hair, and big soulful eyes, he turned a few heads. And with the way he was dressed, and the guitar case on his back, he could've been a rock-star. He will be soon, if this works out, Summer thought to herself.
He looked around until he spotted her, then came over and slumped in the chair opposite her. Summer spoke first.
"Zack. Why did you run away?" He sighed, but explained. He then looked her in the eye, waiting for that patronizing look he knew so well, but it never came.
"Oh my goodness, Zack, he hit you?" He searched her for sarcasm, but it appeared she was sincere.
"Well. Not hit exactly, more, slapped. But it wasn't just that! It was everything." He wondered why he was so anxious to explain himself to her, but passed it aside.
"You're coming back, though, aren't you?"
"I dunno." he mumbled.
"But Zack, you've got to!" she said, and then blushed, realizing she had practically yelled it. He looked up, curiously.
"Why do you care?"
"Well, um, it's not just me! It's the band! We're bringing an album out, and then if all goes well we'll probably go on tour. But we can't without you, Zack, we need you. You're not going to desert your friends, are you?"
"You can do it without me. It's not me you need, it's my guitar skill. Give me one good reason why I should come back, and I will. But I'm going now, it's late. Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?"
"Yes," she said quietly, and he realized he'd hurt her. But it was too late now.
"Good. Meet me tomorrow on 42nd Street, then."
"Okay." This time it was little more than a whisper. He walked out, forcing himself not to look back. When he did, he saw a single tear roll down her cheek, and fall into her white wine.
The next morning she heard him before she saw him. So this was how he made a living, by busking on the streets of New York. She went over, and sat down beside him. He was surprised she didn't mind getting her suit dirty, it was pale green today, with a white shirt and scarf. Her hair and makeup was as immaculate as usual.
"Hey." He said.
"Hi." Not being able to think of anything to say, he began to play. As the first few notes rang out, she began to sing.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wreck like me-e-e-e. I once was lost, but now I'm found, 'twas Grace that saved me." Her voice was no longer the high-pitched shriek it had been when they were 10, but it was a beautiful soprano. People looked round, and smiled, and put some money in his case.
"Since when can you sing?"
"Since I got so embarrassed when I was 10 that I took singing lessons."
"They worked well, you sing like an angel." He looked down, realizing what had just slipped out. She couldn't believe he'd said that, could he like her too? She remembered why she was here.
"I got some reasons."
"Let's hear them."
"Number One: for the band." He opened his mouth, ready to interrupt, but she cut him off. "Yes, I realize you don't think we need you, but we do. We're not going to replace you, so if you don't come back the band is going to fall apart.
Number Two: for your father. He's falling apart, keeps muttering that it was all his fault. Yes, I know it was, but he's sorry, and Zack, he regrets it so much. If you'd even phone him it would mean so much to him.
Number Three: for me."
"What!?"
"I...I really like you Zack. That's why I came back from Uni, and...I don't want to lose you."
"Do you mean it, Summer?" She nodded firmly.
"Yes I do." He reached over and hugged her strongly, and at first she looked a little taken aback, but then she smiled, and hugged him back.
"I love you, Summer."
"I love you too, Zack." He stood up, and carefully scooped the money out of his case and put the guitar in. He slung on his back, and taking her hand helped her up.
"Let's go home."
Zack made friends with his father, but things were never the same. They still loved each other, though. The band made it big time, and Zack and Summer are now married. They live together and are slightly well off, having given most of their money to charity.