how to love // z. m.

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

I was... well, floating on what you would call 'Cloud 9' on the walk home.

I'd gotten David's number, and we'd agreed to go to dinner this Friday at some fancy restaurant that I can't exactly pronounce the name of. All I know is that it's Italian.

I don't even know where it's at.

So it's a good thing David is picking me up at my apartment on Friday, or... I'd be screwed.

Every thirty seconds, in the middle of the crowded New York sidewalk, I would sigh happily, not able to believe the immense good luck that I have at the moment.

I should buy a lottery ticket...

What? It wouldn't hurt to see if my luck is continuing...

I stopped inside a random shop that had a big neon sign outside that said LOTTERY, meaning it sold lottery tickets, and I picked a random type, which I guess was called 'Black Pearl'.

Which, now that I mention it, is quite ironic, seeing as how I have a weakness for Jack Sparrow.

I took a quarter out of my wallet in my purse and walked out to the sidewalk again, where the sky was getting cloudy again.

Just when I think the sun will stay out for longer than just a couple of minutes...

I quickly scratched the ticket, getting a bit excited for the answer.

But... no.

My luck left with the sun.

I sighed, a little disappointed, throwing the ticket into a nearby trashcan that was overflowing, mostly with beer bottles and other choice objects.

I put the quarter back into my wallet and continued on walking, keeping my eyes on the signs that people are always taping up onto the outsides of buildings.

One that I just saw was a man who was wanted for robbing Tiffany & Co. of priceless jewels.

That's freaking fascinating.

I laughed a bit to myself and continued walking, the picture of the scruffy man still in my mind.

And in my view.

At first my eyes just wandered past him, toward the ice cream truck that was slowly making its way through the crazy 24/7 traffic jam.

I didn't even really recognize him at first, really.

He had his hair shaved to near bald, when in the picture he had a surfer haircut that went down to his shoulders. A girly haircut, really.

But it was him. It really was.

I bit my lip, like I always do when I get nervous, and looked around me to see if anyone else had noticed him.

Nope.

As far as I can tell, I'm the only one.

Except for a questionable group of middle-aged drunken women who seem to be trying to take his clothes off with their googly eyes...

Nevermind.

I whipped out my cell phone and dialed 911 immediately, explaining the situation and informing them on the location that I was in. The woman on the other line said thank you, and that the police would be there shortly, and to try to make sure that he doesn't go anywhere, because she didn't think he was armed, so I'd be relatively safe.

Hehe. Yeah.

I hung up, putting my phone back in my pocket, and walking over to the guy, linking arms with him.