That’s when I realize the voice was somewhat familiar because I’ve run into this man before.
It’s the man I met in the convenience store. I fight every urge to swipe my fingers against my pocket where I’ve been carrying the penny he gave me, and instead, grab my phone, opening my group chat with Lainey and June.
The hot guy is here.
On the boardwalk near Surf. He’s HERE.
C: What?
The hot guy from the convenience store is here! I came here to draw, and he sat on the bench next to me. He’s on his phone.
C: Sounds like your lucky stars are lining up again.
L: What are the chances of that happening?
C: TALK TO HIM!
C: FUCK HIM
Claire!
C: Come on, the universe put him in your path again. It’s a sign you need to get laid.
That’s not how the universe works.
C: It could, though!
Lainey, tell Claire that’s the dumbest idea ever.
L: Talk to him, absolutely. Fuck him, maybe if he doesn’t seem like a serial killer or like he’s married.
You two have officially lost it. I’m not going to fuck a stranger.
C: You promised you’d take every opportunity the universe gave you. This feels like an opportunity the universe is giving you.
C: I'll give you my parking spot at the Seabreeze for a month if you say hi to him.
God damn it, that's a good deal.
C: You don’t even have to fuck him. Just see where things go!
I don’t think Miles would be okay with that
C: Well, Miles didn’t win it, so he can suck my dick
.
The conversation continues, Claire and Lainey going back and forth, but the stranger has ended his call, and despite my denial, I can’t help but feel they might have the tiniest bit of truth. I mean, what are the possibilities of bumping into the same man twice? There are two dozen benches along this stretch of boardwalk: he could have sat anywhere, and he sat right there.
If I don’t say hi, I’ll probably wonder what would have happened forever. My mind made up, I take in a deep breath, trying to seem as casual as humanly possible as I turn my head again, pretending to spot him for the first time.
“Oh my God, it's you!” I say in a gasp that sounds fake even to me. His head shifts, and something dances in his eyes. “You’re the guy from the convenience store, right? You gave me a penny?” He stares at me for a long moment, assessing, and I think maybe he won’t speak at all before finally, he does.
“You knew it was me the whole time,” he states, and my eyes widen, the shock this time genuine.
“What?”
“You looked at me a handful of times; then you texted about it. You knew I was here.”
