Followed ✓

12

This was the worst kind of day. I'd already spent most of the previous day without music, but a music-free commute was pretty much my nightmare. I loved the subway, and I had no problem with people or anything like that. However, music made it so much more powerful. It had the ability to make it relaxing and zen in the midst of crowds of people while it could also infuse the crowd with some unseen energy. Without it, the subway was just...blah.

I sighed, pulling out my phone from my other pocket, and pressed the power button to turn it on. The Apple logo flashed at me, and I waited for it to clear before wrinkling my forehead at the several hundred Instagram notifications that stared up at me.

Unlike yesterday, I wasn't going to read them. I unlocked my phone quickly, navigating to my notification settings, and switched them to 'off' with a sigh of relief.

I am in control, I reminded myself. I choose not to let them keep me down.

When I left the settings menu, I noticed a few notifications in my text messages and my heart leapt into my throat. Somehow, impossibly, I didn't connect the dots between Val giving Andrew my number last night and me forgetting to turn my phone on. Of course I didn't get any text messages from him because I was an idiot.

The urge to turn my phone back off hit me rapidly, but I pushed it away as I boarded the train and settled into an empty seat. My finger hovered over the app as my pulse raced in my chest, anxiety sending my blood pressure through the roof in anticipation of what pressing that tiny little square might reveal to me. I glanced up at my fellow subway passengers, almost as if expecting to see looks of sympathy on their faces, but instead of reassurance I got a weird glare from a woman carrying a large shopping bag while the man across the aisle from me winked.

Definitely not reassurance.

Ducking my head, I took a deep breath before tapping the icon. I had seven missed messages, the most recent from my older sister Adriana, and the others from a number I didn't recognize.

Andrew.

I clicked my sister's text first, and I rolled my eyes when I saw her text message was another plea to get me to come home. She'd been texting me at least once a week since I moved to New York, and - after our last phone conversation a month ago - I'd stopped responding. I loved my family dearly, but I needed space. I needed time to recover from everything that had happened, and Adriana was smothering me.

Biting my lip, I tapped the back arrow without responding and opened the next conversation.

I smiled as I read his messages, surprised and touched that he was checking on me after what happened on Instagram, and quickly typed out a response.

I kept myself from saying more, resisting the urge to ramble due to my nervousness, and closed the app before navigating to Instagram. Now that I knew he'd tried to contact me, I was curious to see what he sent.

There were several hundred notifications in the app, and my follower count had increased by several hundred, but I skipped it and clicked the icon in the top corner to go to my messages. My stomach erupted into butterflies the moment I saw his name staring back at me, and I clicked to read the message.

Cait,

I had a great time with you and your friends last night. Thank you for letting me join you. It was exactly what I needed.

I understand if you don't want to see me again, but I've gotta say...I hope you do.

Sleep well,
Andrew

The message was short and to the point, and heat flushed through my body as I read it. I could feel my cheeks burning pink, and I struggled (and failed) to restrain the stupid smile on my face. I couldn't believe that he had messaged me - even taking the initiative to message my roommate - to thank me and tell me that he had a good time. Val even told me that the message he sent to her was incredibly sweet, and that - unlike some guys - Andrew had taken the time to thank her for last night, offering to get our friends together to hang out again soon, and even apologized for being the kind of asshole who asks a girl's friend for her number.

My stop arrived, and I nearly missed it because I was so absorbed in my thoughts about his messages. I was grinning stupidly when I walked into Starbucks, heading straight for the back to prep for work, and I practically ran into one of my coworkers, Lillias.

"Whoa," she smirked, pressing her hands on my shoulders and steering me around her until we've swapped places. "Someone's in a good mood."

I shrugged, biting my lip to keep myself from spilling the beans to her. Lilly was one of my closest friends at work, aside from Val, and she was a current student at CUNY, where I was planning to attend next year to finish college. We'd bonded over our love of St. Paul and the Broken Bones, one of my favorite indie bands, and I loved working with her.

"Does it have something to do with the fact that I saw a photo of you cozied up to Lincoln Shepherd on Instagram?"

My eyes grew wide, "No! It's just--"

The sound of my text message alert cut me off, and I glanced down to see that I had a new message from Andrew. I blushed instantly, and I looked up at Lilly like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh my god," she said slowly. "Was that him? Did he text you?"

I shook my head and started to say otherwise, but she snatched my phone out of my hand and typed in my password.

"How did you know that?!"

She smirked at me, "I have my ways."

"Did Val tell you?" I asked. "I'm so turning on the fingerprint ID after this."

Lilly laughed, "Your password shouldn't be set to your birth year anyway. I've seen you type it at least fifty times, and we were born in the same year. You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to put two and two together."

She turned the phone up to face me, "Wait...who is Andrew?"

"No one," I blushed, grabbing the phone from her and clutching it against my chest.

"Did you go on a date the other night?"

I made a face, "No, I met him in Central Park."

"He's a stranger?" Lilly lifted an eyebrow. "What if he's a creep-o? Didn't Val and I teach you better than to give your number out to random guys in Central Park? He could be planning to kidnap you right now."

"He's not," I argued. "He wouldn't do that, trust me."

She smiled like she'd just won a prize, "So you like him then."

"I, um..." My voice trailed and I scratched my head, pausing for a moment, before looking back at Lilly. "Shit! I need to clock in."

Lilly's laugh echoed loudly as she shook her head at me, watching as I scrambled away from her and the awkward conversation. She knew I was the type of person to evade questions - I'd been spending the last five months getting to know my coworkers whilst keeping them at a comfortable arm's length away - and I wasn't about to tell her the truth about Andrew.

Oh god.

The truth about Andrew. Until now, I didn't realize there was anything to tell, but I was starting to think that I might be wrong.

Do I like him? I asked myself. Do I like Lincoln Shepherd?