narrator's POV:

My family and I drove past the towering buildings in New York City. Lights danced past the windows at all heights. It was my 15th birthday, and my mother found it fit to take me to a restaurant of my choice in the city.

We entered the restaurant in a gust of wind, rain, and umbrellas. The lights were dimmed down to a minimum and candles flickered on every table. As our waitress walked us over to our, I absorbed the surroundings. The walls were made of a dark cherry wood and the floors were adorned in beautiful tiles that clicked under the heels of our waitress. The table she sat us at was all chairs, which was good because my two younger siblings tend to fight over booth chairs.

We ordered our food, I was so zoned out I ordered the first thing I saw, it might have been a salmon dish, and played with the piece of bread sitting in front of me.

"Its amazing Jocelyn," my mom interfered with my thoughts, "it seems to me a large party is expected tonight." She pointed to a large table twenty feet to my left fit to accommodate at least fifty.

"Whatever," I said. I was still mildly depressed by the recent events with my favorite book.

"Jocelyn," she hissed in response to my indifference, "try to at least pretend to be happy. Your father never takes me out and I want to enjoy every bit of it."

I sighed. There was no use arguing. My mother was someone who pretended everything was fine when it wasn't, just to make things better for herself.

"I'm going to the bathro - " I was cut of by the opening of the door.

In walked the largest pack of people I had ever seen. There was seven men and three women. The men were at least 6 ft tall and were covered head to toe in muscles. The groups' toned skin stretched tightly over their frames lead me to believe they were some tribe of Native American. The women were somewhat slighter, still with muscle, but in a lean way. One particularly handsome man walked over to the desk. In a husky voice he stated their reservation.

"Black reservation for fifty-two."

Fifty-two? I only see ten. The rest of the group shuffled in, filling up most of the reception area. Just then, the handsome one turned to look at me. It was if time itself froze. I felt like I was being sucked through a giant black hole with only his eyes looking back at me. He stood there with a shocked look on his face until a wave of understanding flooded it. His eyes gleamed and I lost track of time.

"Jocelyn," my mother called. "Earth to Jocelyn! Helloooooo?" I turned to face her, hating her with every cell in my body for breaking that moment.

"What?" I spat out.

"Its impolite to stare," she replied stiffly. But I couldn't help myself. I had to look back.

There he was, still staring at me with that odd expression. Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable under his attentive gaze.

"Sorry mom. I...er...have to use the bathroom. See you in a bit!"

I got up quickly and rushed away from the table. I wove my way in and out of numerous table until reaching the bathroom. A sign directed me to the left into a corridor which ended with two doors. One for females and one for males. I pushed the proper one open and walked inside. I sat on the countertop and began hyperventilating. I didn't know what was happening, but it was happening too fast.

I left the bathroom confidently. I was not going to let this man wreck my evening. He was probably in his late twenties, for goodness sake. There was no way a connection appeared so suddenly with a man I don't even know. I was probably just over exaggerating the entire thing.

I strode over to my table without glancing in the direction of the long table. I sat down and realized they had not even brought our drinks out. This meant I would have to find something to occupy myself with so I wouldn't look in his direction. I tried to find a pattern in the table cloth. When that proved futile I moved on to the tile. I will not look. I will not look. Do not look over there. What if he caught you? Keep your eyes away. But... one glance can't hurt. I mean, what's the probability of him seeing? I can do this. No. I will not look over there.

Such was the debate I had with myself. Before I knew it, our dinner had come and gone. As we got up to leave, I had to look. I shifted my eyes slowly to the left. Empty. The long table was set perfectly, with no evidence of an occupant. I was exasperated. While my family was preoccupied with paying the bill, I pulled aside a young hostess.

"Excuse me miss, do you know if that large party in here around a half an hour ago left without eating?"

"Why yes dear, they did. Something urgent, apparently." Great, I must have scared them off with my staring. "Do you know them?"

"What? Oh, no, I thought I recognized them from somewhere, but I guess I am wrong. Thanks anyway!"

I ran to catch up with my family. My hopes were crashed. During the car ride home I leaned my forehead against the cold window pane. I didn't know what it was, but something was nagging at me. I was missing something obvious.