Across the Street

Alhad looked across the pavement. A young woman stood holding a phone up, frowning. She had long brown hair, a black jacket hinting, but not showing, a beauty in form, and a crease in her brow that was simply adorable. Alhad was immediately in love.

Kimberly looked up from her phone. A young man stood across the street, looking at her. He had black hair, piercing eyes, and a nice body trying to hide under a puffy coat. She realized she was still frowning at the text from her brother – suggesting they take their mother out to dinner at somewhere she hated – and immediately relaxed her face, smiling at him.

Alhad raised a hand and waved to Kimberly.

Kimberly raised a hand and waved back.

They smiled at each other awkwardly for a moment, until a bus broke the connection. Alhad hurried on board, sat so he could see the woman across the street. He started holding up fingers, giving his phone number one number at a time, but the bus pulled away on the second last one. He hurriedly made the last number, but wasn’t sure if she would see it, would remember it, if she even wanted it.

Kimberly saw the numbers the man was signing. She tried to repeat them in her head, hold them there, keep them. He pulled away on the second to last, and she wasn’t sure if the last was a seven or an eight, or maybe a six. Maybe it was a five. In the confusion, she didn’t hold the first three numbers as carefully as she should have, and wasn’t certain about them, either.

Still, she tapped the number, as best as she could remember, into her phone. She sent a text, saying simply, “Hi, is this the guy on the bus?” Her own bus to work pulled up, and she boarded, hoping for a response.

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