Destiny, Fate and Bad Timing

Chapter I

I’m standing on the sidewalk of windy Boston, waiting for a damn taxi that just won’t show up. After about two minutes of continuously checking my watch, someone taps my shoulder and I look behind me.

A familiar-looking guy waves at me. He has blue-green eyes that look like they have all the colors of the bottom of the Pacific Ocean (excluding the corals, fishes, sand and the like), and the sunlight is directly hitting his right eye, making his iris look more bright green than blue-green—it’s like he has heterochromia.

“Hey,… uh, guy I have not met before.” I awkwardly wave back.

The wind blows in our direction and his scent is now coming to me. Oh, wow. He smells like snow, ice, and… mannish blueberries. I like berries and men. Also, now that the wind has blown its rage, his dark blonde hair is currently in a state of disarray. Unfortunately, I have the urge to touch them, like with those girls in books whenever a hot guy’s hair is messed up; the uncontrollable itch to fix their hair is persistent.

“Oh crud.” He hurriedly fixes his hair and sweeps his bangs to the side of his face. “I’m Cameron, by the way.”

I didn’t know parents still name their children seven-letter-names.“I’m Ginger.” Christ, who am I to talk? My name’s “Ginger” for crying out loud.

“I know that.” He replies smugly.

What?

He points to my explosion of copper red hair. “No,” I chuckle a bit. “I mean my name is actually Ginger.”

His eyebrows raise and his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “Oh, sorry.” He smiles. “That’s a cool name.” He’s still smiling.

“Thanks?” I scrunch my nose in uncertainty—it’s a habit.

He dismissively waves his hands. “I went to you because—wait, do I look familiar in any way?”

I nod.

“I saw you at the Novemberfest Music Festival about a week ago.” He says. I was about to ask the connection but he continued. “And at the public library maybe two days ago, and at the park yesterday, aaand I think you passed our school this week? I’m not quite sure. And, oh yeah, now. I saw you now.”

I stare at him in shock. I was at all those places. So that’s why he seems familiar. I don’t know if I should be happy-shocked that we keep bumping into each other, or be scared-shocked because he’s probably a deranged psycho who keeps following me around the city. “How…?”

He shrugged and gripped the strap of his brown satchel which looks like it’s made from soft leather. I wanna touch it. “I don’t know, but I told myself that if I saw you again, I should talk to you because it’s basically the heavens above telling us to meet.” He winks playfully then winces. “Ah, I was trying to look cool but I don’t know how to wink properly. I apologize.”

“It’s all right.” I giggle then cover my mouth. I sounded like flirty, annoying girl. Shame on me. I pretend to wipe something from my face. Maybe he’s not a crazy ax murderer. He did say I passed by his “school”. I ask, “What school do you go to?”

“Duke. That pretentious-looking private school. But we’re not. Kind of.” He replies.

 A Duke boy. This kid must be rich. “Next to that other, pretentious-looking mall, right?”

He nods shamefully. “Where do you go?”

“I’m a junior at Thorpe High.” I answer.

“Oh, by the way, I’m a senior but I was accelerated.” He says.

Rich, good-looking and a genius.

He looks at the ground then his head snaps back at me like he just remembered something. “Right, uhm… Well I approached you because I wanted to get your number or whatever. For stalking purposes.” He smiles.

I  chuckle. “Really.”

“I want to track you down so we keep meeting like this. You see, I would like to see you again. On Saturday. At the Starbucks on Philips road. Maybe at five pm-ish.” He “nonchalantly” says.

 “Oh, wow, that would be complete serendipity, now would it?” I reply sarcastically. “Tell you what, give me your number and we’ll see how this’ll turn out.”

He points his finger at me and says, “Smart girl. I could be a rapist-murderer-hit man who goes to Duke. But okay, fine.”