invisible string

t h r e e

      My mouth falls open, and I blink rapidly trying to force my mouth to work. Any other time it wants to work, yet the two times I was in the vicinity of this man I ironically forgot how to speak. I am still trying to determine if this is real. This does not happen to me. I'm not ugly but I'm not the prettiest out of everyone in our entire group tonight.

Charlotte, I am not entirely convinced isn't a runway model. She has long toned legs, from years at the gym. Her hair is in a slick pony tail but it shows her defined face, and although she has the rudest scowl on her face in public she is one of the sweetest people I've ever met.

Claire, who is in front of Charlotte, is what we call, the golden retriever of the group. She is a huge flirt and always has guys kneeling at her feed by the end of a ten-minute conversation. Ava, who is sitting in front of me, is hometown friends with Charlotte. She has beautiful blue eyes that make you feel like you're looking at a crystal blue sky. They are even intimidating to me, and sometimes I find myself avoiding her gaze because of how intense it is. She also, of course, has long blonde hair that comes down to her butt. With naturally flawless skin, half the time she doesn't even have make-up on and you'd never know because she is always pimple-free. She has the perkiest boobs out of all of us, and I know if he were to just take his eyes off of me for two seconds he'd see the rest of the beautiful women around me with more to offer.

"You live in Jersey?" He asks when I don't reply to his first comment. Did he even say anything before this? Was I just imagining it?

I look up at the sign, Haddonfield next, "yep," I laugh nervously and do a weird clap thing that echos on the tiny train. I wince at the sound, and then try to hide my scowl with a smile but I think I fail miserably because he's grinning as me as if he's trying to hold back a smile.

"So you're a Hunger Games fan?" He asks, thankfully changing the subject, and I nod enthusiastically before I can't even control it. Damn you alcohol. He laughs then and if I thought he was handsome before him, smiling completely makes him absolutely perfect. His entire face lights up, and he presses two fingers into his eyes as if wiping away tears.

"Claire here loves the Hunger Games. She could talk about them for hours if you'd let her, getting her to shut up is the trick," Charlotte speaks up from behind me.

"Claire?" He repeats and my name sounds like a poem coming from his lips.

"Friends call me Amy," I say and mentally smack myself in the head. You don't know this man! But you want too, I argue back with myself.

"Amy?" He asks. "How does that come from —"

"It's her middle name," Charlotte corrects.

"Claire Amy," he says smirking slightly. "That's original."

"Its actually Claire Amelia?" I say more of a question. "It's a family name," I explain. "Amelia is my grandmas name," I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders. It is a horrible name, Claire and Amelia — two first names. Blah. I agree. Then again, I'd agree with anything he says right now probably.

He does an ah ha thing, and nods like he understands it. Then he smirks, "so does this mean I can ask for your number?" He laughs. "Since I'm on friend status and saved you from falling down the steps earlier?" He says and he's already handing me his phone.

I grab it, with two hands. If he notices, he doesn't say anything but there is a ghost of a smile across his lips as he watches me slowly pull it towards me. I am not risking messing up and dropping his phone before I even get a chance to prove to him I am not this weird socially awkward girl who doesn't know how to speak. I can be fun and totally not this flustered mess I have seemed to get myself in the two times I have been around him.

"I'm afraid I'm going to mess up my number right now," I admit. My hands shake as I hold his phone, trying to remember my phone number. I
look back at Charlotte who was already reaching to grab the phone from my hand. She types something in and hands the phone back to him, leaning across me to do it.

He clears his throat, "uh, mind if I just -" he pauses and holds the phone up, "just gave you a call so I know you didn't just give me a fake number, no offense." He says with a small smile in Char's direction.

"None taken, I probably wouldn't trust me either," she shrugs.

He presses call and my phone starts to vibrate in my lap. I smile, holding up so he can see it's really my number. Just then the doors ding and he stands up abruptly. "This is my stop," he says, and I look again trying to remember where we were headed. "Haddonfield?" I repeat, "if I was going home this would be my stop too," I laugh, "you live in the area?" I ask.

"Text me and find out," he says and then walks out of the train, not looking back once.

"Woah," Charlotte says, watching his retreating figure. Ava and Blaire turn around in their seats, mouths gaping. "You weren't kidding, he is hot." Ava sighs. "So mysterious."

I ignore the fact that Ava was eavesdropping on my conversion with Charlotte earlier because, "He asked for my number," I say, pointing out the obvious. "Am I dreaming?" I ask.

Blaire chuckles, "you would think right? He seemed too perfect."

"Right!" I agree, "hmmm," I hum.

Just then my phone dings, and everyone's heads look down in that direction. "Is it him?!" Ava gasps.
"I don't know, it's an unknown number," I say, but still don't make a move to read it.

This is all so much, and I don't know how to be a normal human with this guy, he seems so put together and I am just not. Not even just because of the alcohol, I am mentally unstable in so many ways. Diagnosed anxiety, depression, and panic attack disorder. God I would love to be someone confident right now, go after what I want, because man I really want him.

       He seems to be into me and I have never in my life been so starstruck in front of any man before, and it is a scary, but absolutely thrilling feeling. It reminded me there is more to life than being comfortable, he made me want to feel more than just safe in my everyday life with the same people.

"I'm reading it, I can't wait." Charlotte says take my phone and unlock it. My password is my birthday, everyone knows. I have nothing to hide. "It's him," she grins. "And his name is Thoedore, but he says his friends call him Teddy! Holy shit and didn't you just go through a whole pretty woman phase?" she gasps. "And that main character dude you love, isn't that his name!" She practically shouts, hitting my arm.

She is right, well almost, "it's Little Women actually," I correct, she scoffs rolling her eyes, "but yes his name is Teddy."

I say letting her know she wasn't entirely wrong. I am honestly surprised she remembered that. I go through a lot of hyper fixations on books and ramble a lot. Although that one was a recent obsession, and Laurie from 1994 is the best, hands down, but that is besides the point - is this fate? My own Theodore, my own Teddy.

"What do I say back?" I ask even before I read the message myself.