New York Is Calling

Chapter 2

MOM WAS LONG GONE.

    I had asked the customer service desk to call out her name over the intercom system, hoping she was still here and just knee deep in some shoes, not paying attention to what's going on around her. But after about 30 minutes of standing at the front of the store like a pathetic moron, it was obvious she wasn't anywhere to be found, which meant I was stuck in New York City without any way of reaching her or dad.

    When I stepped back out to the street he was waiting there, leaned up against a fancy sports car, still in his grey suit. It was hard to look away. He had already gotten himself a new phone and as way too preoccupied with it to notice me.

    How the hell did he get a new phone that fast?

    My knees began to tremble as I slowly approached him. His hair was short on the sides but long on top, pushed to the side into a ready-to-wed style. He kept his facial hair trimmed just long enough to have it not be considered a 5 o'clock shadow. But his best features were his eyes. He had the type of eyes you could just get lost in. Even his eye brows were on point.

    "You're staring at me pretty hard." he said with a smile on his face.

    Here come the signature red cheeks of embarrassment I was known for. I was seriously not good at...whatever you want to call this.

    I smiled back, not sure of what else to do. "I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have been staring."

    An awkward silence fell upon us. Correction, an awkward silence fell upon me. I was the one who was nervous, not him.

    "So..." I dragged out the o far too long.

    "So." He replied casually.

    This wasn't going so well. My shoulders began to itch. I couldn't understand why I was so nervous around him. I'd been good with boys my entire life. Even when Robert and I went on a break I was still able to meet new boys and talk to them without a problem.

    My boyfriend is Robert.

    I had to remind myself he was my boyfriend. We may be hitting a rough patch, but I still cared for him. This thing that was happening here, right now, with Axel, wasn't right. I had to stop it.

    "Thanks for walking me," I said, avoiding eye contact with him. "But I should really get going."

    I had every intention of leaving, going straight to Starbucks like I had told mom and waiting until sundown before meeting her and dad in Time Square, but my feet wouldn't move. When he finally spoke, I knew this would be the start of something bad, something unlike anything I had done or experienced before.

    "Would you like to come to my apartment?"

    He lived in a small building on the corner of 8th and 30th, 2 blocks from Madison Square Garden. The building itself wasn't anything special, covered in faded yellow masonry with large black windows. There was construction up and down the block, so instead of wasting time trying to find parking, Axel parked in a nearby parking garage.

    As we walked up to the building I began thinking about what his intentions were with me. Part of me wanted to run away, far away, from him. The other part just wanted to rip his clothes off.

    There is something seriously wrong with you, Cecylia.

    "This is me." He said as we turned into his building.

    The entire ride over here was spent in silence. I wasn't sure what to say, and he was more interested in keeping his car safe than talking to me. He pointed out his building as we passed it, but that was about it.