My phone lit up on the oak surface in front of me triggering a smile to form on my glossed lips. My mind diverted from the conversation my three friends Sophie, Dean, and Leanne were holding across the table involving the topic of my upcoming eighteenth birthday celebrations.
I tapped the screen excitedly; which quickly turned to longing.
"Sales call," I sighed. I let my hand fall palm-first on the table in disappointment, and rested my head in the other. My blue eyes fell in Leanne's direction as she nodded her head in the way of the bar door to the right, silently offering me a private chat; which I accepted.
Dismissing ourselves from the group, I followed my tall brunette friend away from the table. As the rustic pub door swung open, a spine-tingling breeze hit my cheeks causing me to shiver. The dark, harrowing night was livened some-what by the countless street lamps outlining the main road through the Manhattan street; Tenth Avenue. Apartment buildings towered around us, offering a false sense of security while individuals wandered past us heedlessly.
She stopped and turned to face me with a look of concern. "Why are you so worried?"
"It's not that I'm worried," I brushed my fingers back through my blonde hair and shifted uncomfortably. "It's just that things are so perfect at the moment, I don't want to lose that."
She narrowed her eyes. "You do trust him don't you?"
"Of course I do," I answered quickly, "But I don't know why he'd miss our anniversary, we've been planning this night for weeks-"
"You know Luke, he's just being his usual self; late for everything." She smiled reasurringly, holding out her arms for a comforting hug.
Stepping forward, my back pocket shuddered to signal an incoming message. I fumbled optimistically for my iPhone against the denim of my skin-tight jeans, grasping it and releasing a sigh of relief.
"Now we've just got to pray he's not with a stripper," she teased. I rolled my eyes to her comment.
Turning away from her, I gazed out into the hectic road and elevated the phone to my ear.
"You better have a good excuse Mister, now you're more than late," I criticized in a light-heated tone.
But my face dropped when I didn't hear the husky voice that I dreamt everyday about listening too; the voice that belonged to my Luke. I heard a woman's high voice which began questioning me.
"Is this Miss Poppy Cicero?" She said sensitively.
"Yes this is she, who is this?" I inquired slowly.
Her next words turned my limbs drastically numb. My legs felt as though they could give way on the spot, like I could fall into the ground and disappear, never to be seen again. There was no possible way for my mouth to form any sort of syllable as my brain went into a heart aching shock. I could feel the tears developing in my glistening eyes and roll slowly down my pale face as the cold stopped taking effect on my body, and was instead replaced with dismay.
Leanne discovered for herself the nature of the phone call by seizing it from my frozen fingertips. Her eyes packed simultaneously with both sympathy and perplexity as she froze too, eyes wide. My mind had only just become able to comprehend the sentence, sending me into a fit of uncontrollable and hysteric tears; my throat swollen with emotion as I chocked in between my cries. Leanne bounded her arms around me consolingly, sheltering me from the night.
