The wail of trumpets ripped through the crowded room, sharps, flats, and minor keys filling the air. It looked like a speakeasy that had been brought back to life. Rich men in sharp suits were sat at the bar, making illicit deals with one another. The poor boys were up front with the girls, dancing the night away to the happy jazz. As the lively tune came to an end, the band began to play a slow, bluesy song. She smiled at her partner and turned around to find her next. Everyone there was a stranger to one another, or so she thought. As she turned, a tall, thin man with dark brown hair turned and looked her in the eye. She gasped while he wrinkled his brow, trying to place the face before him.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" He asked.
Quickly regaining her cool she replied
"From a long time ago,". He furrowed his brow further desperately trying to remember her name.
"About 12 years ago, we both would've been 14," She added. "You're Adam Bennet, correct?" His eyes widened, realizing who he was talking to.
"Y-yes," he stammered. "I can't believe it, this is incredible!" He exclaimed. They stopped the conversation for a moment to see that everyone was dancing around them. He offered his arm, to which she smiled and gladly took.
"So how have you fared the last 12 years?" He asked.
"Quite well," She replied. "I just graduated UPenn a few months ago, how about you?"
"I just finished up at Princeton. What's your major?"
"I have a double major in international business and fashion design, you?"
"Economics. So what brings you to New York?"
"I've got an internship with a designed company. Do you have a job up here?" She asked. The music stopped before he could answer. "Would you like to go sit at the bar with me?" He asked. She looked down at her watch. It read 10:30 PM. "Shit," She mumbled under her breath. "I'm so sorry, I have to get back to my apartment. Maybe some other time," And with that, she started towards the door.
"Wait!" He called after her, grabbing her arm. "Can I at least have your number?"
"Oh, um, sure," She replied, digging in her purse for a pen. "Do you have something to write with?"
"Just write it on my hand," He said, showing her his palm.
"Oh, alright," She wrote the number down quickly and turned to leave.
"I'll be calling you," He told her playfully.
"You'd better," She said with a wink as she walked out of the building, and into the cold, night air
