ALLY

"There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know-how. Because maybe, you're going to be the one that saves me. And after all, you're my wonder wall..."

The stereo serenaded my night with Oasis's Wonderwall as the engine roared to life. Shivers spread throughout my body as the cool breeze fanned my face and my hair danced with the wind through the rolled-down window.

Singing each word out loud didn't help the temptation that I had been fighting since I sent that text. Defeatedly, I dug my hand in my purse, blindly searching until my palm touched a cool metal object.

847-627-5273 (10:20 pm): Who is this?

Fuck, indeed.

I stared blankly at the phone screen, reading the message over and over again as I halted my car to a stop. The fiery red traffic light beamed ahead of me as I fixed my vision between the brightly lit screen in my hand and the empty road ahead of me.

Me (10:22 pm): I'm sorry, this is Ally.
Me (10:22 pm): I was your server. I just wanted to say thank you for that generous tip.

I hid my face with the palms of my hands. I wished I hadn't made such a cheap move.

847-627-5273 (10:24 pm): I think you got the wrong number.

What the fuck...My eyes squinted in confusion. I must've memorized the wrong number. I was conflicted between feeling sad that I probably would never see or talk to him again to feeling relieved that I didn't have to go through this much embarrassment and nervousness. The latter was a better option.

I placed my phone in the cupholder, fidgeting between stations while I waited for the traffic light to signal me to go until the screen lit up with a new notification.

847-627-5273 (10:25 pm): I'm kidding!

Confused, I stared at the screen as the three dots danced in a waveform. I stepped on the gas as the traffic light signaled green. I tried to focus on the road but my eyes constantly wandered to my phone. I tightened my grip on the wheel when I saw the screen came back to life.

"Don't look at it," I told myself repeatedly, fighting the urge to check my phone. After few seconds, the screen went back to black.

"Lights will guide you home. And ignite your bones. And I will try to fix you."

Compared to the usual bumper to bumper ride during rush hour, the drive on I-90 highway was smooth with the radio station playing Coldplay in the background. It was almost empty, except for a few semi-trucks and cars that passed by. I cruised at the speed limit of 60 mph. I thought had waited long enough to check my phone when I came to a stop after exiting the highway.

It was 10:38 pm. 3 new notifications greeted my vision as I unlocked my phone.

847-627-5273 (10:27 pm): I'm sorry. That was a dick move. Let me start over.
847-627-5273 (10:28 pm): Hi. My name is Harvey, but you already know that from the note I left on the receipt. To be honest, I'm surprised that you actually reached out to me. Don't get me wrong. I'm really glad that you did. Again, I'm sorry for messing with you from my previous message. I need to work on my sense of humor. *facepalm*
847-627-5273 (10:31 pm): Okay... I'll give you some time to cool down. I promise I'll behave from now on. lol *angel face emoji*

A smile crept on my face. I tried to wipe it off and shook my head. Before I could type my reply, a sudden loud and long honk of a horn had startled me. I must have been idling when the traffic light had turned green. I sped off while holding onto the phone with one hand. I didn't want to seem too eager by replying too soon.

Me (10:42 pm): Ha. Ha. Well, I guess tonight is your lucky night since I've never done this before.

Harvey (10:43 pm): What? Texting? *winky face*

I chuckled in response as I blindly tapped my fingers on the screen to reply back.

Me (10:43 pm): haha, your sense of humor is getting better. But I meant, I don't think I've ever reached out to a stranger like this before.

Harvey (10:44 pm): I see. There's always a first time for everything and I'm glad you made an exception with me.

Me (10:44 pm): How could I not? You practically 'bought' my way into your DM with that tip.

Sent.

Shit. No.

Me (10:44 pm): Omg. That sounded so wrong. *facepalm* Disregard that text!

Harvey (10:45 pm): haha. I mean, that was my plan. I'm glad it actually worked! Anyways, are you heading home now?

Me (10:46 pm): Yup, driving now.

Harvey (10:46 pm): Text me when you get home safe, yeah?

Me (10:46 pm): Ahm, sure...

It felt easy. Conversing with him. Was it wrong? Definitely. But it felt almost too natural.

I sat in the car for a moment. The butterflies filled my stomach as I smiled at my phone. How long had it been since I felt this way? I should feel guilty, but I honestly didn't.

I hopped out of the car and was greeted with the cool breeze and a full moon, lightening up the darkness of the night. It was perfect weather in Chicago this time of the year. Last April, a blizzard of snow filled the city streets of Chicago, entrapping hundreds of car in lakeshore drive. This year, the pavements remained cool and dry.

My parents were asleep as evidenced by the ghosted living room. The small red light coming from the rice cooker was the only thing I could make off in the kitchen. I dove right on the bed the moment I entered my room. My face slammed the soft black and white striped comforter.

A long breath of relief escaped through my smushed face on the comforter. Half of my face was buried on the soft linens. I could fall asleep from the exhaustion I felt physically, mentally and emotionally. But I hadn't forgotten about him. How could I?

I pulled my phone out and texted him back.

Me (10:58 pm): Home now. Safe and sound.