Boy Meets Girl

At night, a boy walks alone through the city, cold and scared. As he walks, he stares down at the cracks that divide each palette in the sidewalk, making sure not to step on any of them. Not one. Eventually, he approaches what appears to be a girl, sitting alone on a bench at the corner of the block.

“Hello,” says the boy with a smile.

“Hi,” mutters the girl quietly, facing the ground.

“Are you lost?” asks the boy, concerned.

“No,” says the girl. “I’m waiting for my dad.”

“Where is he?” asks the boy.

“I don’t know. He probably forgot about me again,” says the girl.

“Oh,” says the boy, looking down at the ground.

“What about you?” asks the girl.

The boy looks back up at the girl, “I’m looking for my mom.”

“Where is she supposed to be?” asks the girl.

“She told me to wait for her at the end of the block,” the boy says, “but I’ve been waiting for more than an hour.”

“Oh,” says the girl. “Are you scared?”

The boy nods his head.

“Well, it’s okay,” says the girl. “You can stay here with me.”

“Really?” asks the boy.

“Of course. Here, sit down,” says the girl, making room on the bench.

“Thanks,” says the boy, sitting down next to her.

Minutes go by as the boy and the girl stare off into the street in complete silence.

“You know what I think?” says the girl.

The boy turns towards her.

“I think we were supposed to find each other.”

“You think so?” says the boy.

“Yes,” says the girl, putting her hand on his, “and I think everything’s going to be okay.”

The boy looks down at the girl’s hand on top of his, then looks back up at her.

“Me too,” says the boy with a smile.


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