Another Path

You sign in relief as you step out of the revolving doors at the train station, seeing the bustling streets of New York City before you.

Your parents never thought you’d have the guts to move to the big city, but you did it and it feels great.

You grew up in a pretty parochial town in South Carolina, where all of your friends went to the same church and there were perhaps 20 non-white kids in your whole high school.

Thankfully, you took a computer science class and were able to pursue it, even in a relatively poor area. The little Kentville community had always been there for you, and here you were - bags packed in New York City, ready to work at a local tech startup for yearly wages in the hundred thousands.

You pull up the directions to your new apartment and get on the subway, adjusting your bags in the crowded car. Your eyes light up when you see a woman about your age, Asian with a perfectly rounded figure, if a little short.

The train jolts, inadvertently jostling a keychain out of the woman’s purse. You decide to be a gentleman, so you pick up the keychain and hold them out to her.

“Here, I think you dropped your keys.”

The woman looks delighted. “Thanks! I didn’t even notice. How can I pay you back?”

You’re about to say “oh, it’s nothing” but you decide to take a chance. New York’s a romantic place, at least according to all the cheesy romcoms.

“Well, you could start by giving me your number…” You give a slight smile, dying inside from how corny that sounded.

The woman nods agreeably. “Okay. Get your phone out, so that you can type it in.”

You’re a little starstruck - did that pickup line actually work? You fumble out your phone from your pocket, navigating to the Contacts app.

“Alright, it’s 555-3648. Oh, and my name’s Ann. I assumed you’d want to know.”

You type in the number and her name, grinning. You send a quick text, because it’s entirely possible she gave you a prank number. But no, her phone bings and she replies with a smiling emoji, glancing at you from across the car.

You decide that if it’s truly your lucky day, you can test your luck and see if you can call Ann’s bluff.

You text her, “Any chance you could go on a date sometime?”

You watch her face, which has reverted back to neutral, as she types, “Sorry, I’ve got a boyfriend. Picking up my keys only buys you so much,” and then another smiley emoji. You’re a little disappointed, but you suppose it’s predictable.

But - a boyfriend? You shoot her a questioning look. If she had a boyfriend, surely she wouldn’t give you her real number. She’s probably bluffing because she’s not interested, you guess.

The train shakes to a stop once again - this time yours. As you take the walk to your apartment building, you mentally remark on Ann’s strange behavior in the subway car and head to your new home.