Chapter 2

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So that's Iggy up there. I like how the picture kind of makes him look blind. :)

***

Iggy couldn't stop thinking about Jenn.

He remembered the way her voice sounded. The way her hand felt on his. The way she seemed to know more than she led on.

The more he thought about her, the more curious he became and he was dying to see her again.

Well.

Figuratively speaking.

He never hated being blind more than he did right now.

It upset him that he couldn't see her face and that he wouldn't be able to look for her. He was only able to listen for her.

Have you ever tried to listen for a specific voice in a crowd as big and loud as New York City?

It was more difficult than finding a needle in a haystack.

And what if she didn't actually want to see him again?

What if she was only passing by?

What if she was a tourist in New York?

She had said she wasn't from NYC.

Plus she said she didn't even like it here.

Iggy groaned, holding his head between his hands, resting his elbows on his usual table in the back of the library.

His over thinking was starting to give him a headache.

He tried to refocus on his reading but he couldn't tell the difference between his h's and his j's.

He dropped his head down on his open book as his mind wondered to Jenn once again.

"Are you feeling alright?" He heard someone ask. He tensed up. The voice was familiar, but it wasn't the librarian.

It was the voice that had been on replay in his mind.

"Jenn?"

"Awe! You remembered me!" She practically squealed. "Do you... do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Go right ahead," he replied, closing his book.

Not like he was going to read it anyway.

She was just far too distracting.

Whether she was here or not.

"What's that book?" She asked, her voice bubbly as she plopped her stack of books on the table beside him and sat down.

"Uh... I forgot..." he said. He wasn't lying.

"Bats?" She froze. "Or ah- does it say bass?" She asked suddenly.

He turned his head curiously and felt the cover of the book. "Yeah. Bats." He was going to ask her about why she tried to act dumb, but she cut him off.

"So if you hate New York so much why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I asked you first," she retorted, keeping his tone.

He smiled at this and gave in, "I go to NYIT."

"I go to the Art Institute," she said proudly.

"So you're the artsy type, huh?"

"So you're the science-y type, huh?" She teased.

He nodded in defeat and asked, "So if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"I'm 19. It's the end my first year here."

"Mine, too. I'm 19 as well." Iggy didn't usually tell people his age, but there was something about her that made him want to tell her everything.

Everything.

"Oh? When's your birthday?" She asked happily.

"March 14th."

"Oh! That's Einstein's birthday!" He smiled at the fact that she knew that. Not many people did and that made him happy.

"How did you know?"

"I ah... I just do I guess," she said quietly.

They were quiet for a moment.

For the first time, Iggy broke the silence, "What time is it?"

"You can't tell?" She joked.

"No, sorry. My bat senses haven't kicked in yet. Why do you think I'm reading this book?"

She laughed.

God her laugh was gorgeous.

"It's almost 1," she answered.

"Do you- do you maybe want to go to lunch with me?"

There was a pause and he was afraid she would say no.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, a smile in her voice as she placed her hand on his arm. "Where do you have in mind?"

"Panera Bread is right next door."

"Oh! I love Panera Bread!"

They walked outside and she breathed in deeply, basking in the sunlight.

"Damn..." Iggy mumbled, turning back to the library.

She turned to look at him, "What's wrong?"

"I forgot my walking stick."

"That's okay," she grinned. "You're with me."

He stopped on the bottom step and turned back around, trying not to smile happily at her words.

He blushed, afraid to ask her but he did anyway, "Do you mind if I hold your belt loop or something?"

Her smile grew and she took his right hand, guiding it to the belt loop on her left.

"Thank you," he said bashfully; he had never done this with anyone who wasn't in the Flock but for some reason it felt so natural.

"Hey, it's really nice out... can we get it to go and eat at Bryant Park?"

"That sounds like a really good idea."

He focused on his finger in her belt loop, trying to figure her out. Using his ability to feel colour, he found out one thing. Her pants were black. He "accidentally" brushed his thumb across the hem of her shirt when they were crossing the street and found out that it was black too.

Interesting.

Every time he learned more about her it only made him yearn for more information.

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