Little Redhead (#OnceUponNow)

waxing gibbous

"If I think of someone hard enough, will they eventually start to think of me?"

– Charlotte's Journal

August 27, 2016

~*~

Maybe it looks a little desperate to text Zev the night after we met, but I have good reason.

Zev doesn't know my phone number; I only have his, and I don't want to be the one obligated to make any kind of plans. Not that I'm assuming plans are going to be made at all. It's just in case.

Anyway, I text him a little before midnight that Saturday night. "it's charlotte from the park. just wanted you to have my number."

I force myself to place the phone facedown on the nightstand, so I won't stare at the screen until it lights up with a response. I don't want to be one of those girls who squeal at any message from the cute boy they think they're in love with. But as soon as I hear the phone vibrate, I dive toward the nightstand and scoop it off the wooden surface. Hopeless.

"k braith" stares up at me in tiny text.

My heart sinks, and I regret messaging him in the first place. Did I really think he was that interested in me? He probably chats up every pretty girl he stumbles across in Central Park.

But the phone vibrates again in my hands, and the second message reads, "Nice meeting you, beautiful (;".

My legs turn to jelly and I sink lower on the bedspread. No one, other than my Mom – and my Dad when I was little and he was still alive – has ever called me beautiful. And the word makes my heart stumble in its usual, rhythmic beats.

In that moment, I know I'm gone. I'm completely, hopelessly gone.

I don't hear from Zev for a few days. School starts the upcoming Wednesday, where I will enter into my last year of high school.
Monday, one of my last few nights of freedom, is spent at my grandma's house on the Upper East Side. My grandma is a tiny, graying old lady who stereotypically loves to crochet. She has a weak heart and so has been housebound for nearly a year now. I still visit at least once a week to check up on her.

We sit most nights before the TV and watch the day's recording of soaps, while my grandma reclines in her armchair and crochets. This Monday, we watch General Hospital and eat a slice of pumpkin pie each.

Just after the show returns from a commercial break, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. I set my empty plate upon the glass coffee table and stare at the screen, seeing the glowing three letters – Z-E-V – right below the time, 9:04. It's late, and he calls without warning.

I bite my lip and consider. Grandma has taken her hearing aides out and is oblivious to the sound of the phone vibrating against the glass; not to mention, she's already starting to doze off. I could slip out into the next room and answer. Annoyingly, I'm desperate to talk to him.

I stand from the couch and hurry down the hallway toward the empty bedroom. Sliding the answer bar before I can stop myself, I whisper, "Hello?"

"Well, hello. Why'd you take so long to answer?"

Zev's immediate question catches me off guard, but his tone is somewhat joking. I roll my eyes even though he can't see me. "I was busy."

"Mmm, okay." I wish I could see his face – Zev is hard enough to read when speaking in person, let alone over the phone. "Come out with me."

"Come out with you where?" I ask, stumbling over my words a little at his straightforwardness.

"Do we have to have a plan? Where are you? I'll come get you."

I start to falter. "But it's...it's after midnight."

"So what? The later, the better. I want to show you something, too."

And after that, I have no hope of refusing. I tell him my grandma's address, and Zev says he can be there in a few minutes. After I hang up, I find my grandma is out cold on the sofa, so I scribble a hasty note and leave – still feeling a little guilty.

The summer air is cool as I exit the apartment building. I can hear cars honking in the distance, and the night is the color of pale purple as it always is – the dark never turns completely black because, as they say, the city never sleeps.

Zev is leaned against the brick wall across the street, dressed in all black with dark-wash jeans instead of shorts this time. He offers me a cheeky sort of smirk as I cross the empty street, and he boasts, "I knew you couldn't resist an adventure. Let's go."

But Zev must notice I'm a bit nervous to be out this late, and as we pass a homeless woman sleeping on a closed grocery store's steps, he taps my shoulder and smiles warmly. "So. Tell me what you've been up to lately."

He distracts me so easily. I soon forget we are walking alone through a somewhat dangerous city, and the ten minute walk passes quickly. When we reach what Zev was leading me towards, he hushes me and points.

I squint through the semi-darkness, a streetlight blinking red behind me. I don't see what's so special; all that's on this side of the street is a tiny gated park that closed hours ago. The chain-link fence reaches my shoulder, and the entrance is shut with a padlock.

I glance at Zev. "This is what you wanted to show me?"

"Yeah."

"But...I don't get it."

He rolls his eyes and tugs on the sleeve of my hoodie. "Well, we've got to go inside, duh. It's just stupid if we stand around out here."

I stammer out a protest as Zev jumps onto the fence, the metal clacking as he throws one leg over the top with practiced ease. He lets go and lands heavily in the dirt on the other side, straightening up to toss me a grin over the fence. "What are you waiting for? Come on in."

"But it's closed," I say, glancing side to side as though I thought a cop car was going to appear in the empty street. "Come back out. I don't like this."

"Don't be a baby," Zev replies smoothly. He starts to back away from the fence before I can get another word out, gesturing for me to follow. "I've done this a hundred times. Come on. I'm gonna leave you behind!"

He disappears further into the vacant park, and I'm too afraid to call out after him. I stand alone on the sidewalk, arms folding tightly across my chest. My mind battles with itself for a long minute, but I know it's pointless. The thrill beneath my skin has already decided for me.

I glance to the left, and then the right. The street is still empty, the only noises coming from the next block over, where a nightclub thrums with a steady bass line. I'm alone except for Zev, on the other side of the gate.

Sucking in a deep breath, I grip the metal chain-links and hoist myself up.