Up All Night

They’d met nearly two years ago to the day. A brief encounter lasting no more than five minutes at the most, and one she had forgotten a few weeks later.
He never forgot it, though. He never forgot the way she’d looked, standing under the yet unlit streetlamp as the sun slowly began to dip behind the horizon.

Snow was lightly cascading down and her dark red ringlets were damp with melted snow. The girl reached up and pulled her thick woolen beanie down hard, jamming it over her forehead and ears. The tip of her nose was a light red, and it made her many freckles stand out against her ivory skin. He watched as she stood on the street corner and looked up at the street signs. She seemed lost. As the sun set behind the city buildings and the streetlamp above her flickered into life, she reached into the pocket of her threadbare coat, pulling out an equally battered city guide. Frown lines creased her forehead as she thumbed through it, and he watched her swear quietly, stamping her foot in frustration.

She was definitely lost. And he could help.

Summoning all his courage – it was never easy for him to talk to a pretty girl – he walked up to her, his boots crunching the snow beneath them.

“Hi. Are you lost?” he shot her a friendly smile.

The girl looked up from her book, hazel eyes harbouring a hint of suspicion. Yet the look was replaced with one of relief the second she realised he was her age. “Yeah, I am. Terribly so, I’m afraid,” she admitted, biting the corner of her inner lip in nervous habit. Her voice was husky, yet if it was lack of use or natural, he wasn’t yet sure. It reminded him of soul music and toasted woodchips. “I’m looking for a café near here. I can’t remember the name, nor the street and I can’t find where on Earth I wrote it down, but it’s next to a shabby secondhand bookstore, I think. I’m meeting a relative there, and I’m late.”

He wanted to ask her why she just didn’t call and ask the relative the café’s name, but then he realised he wouldn’t be talking to her if she had.

As if she had read his mind, the girl pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’d call them, but it fell into a puddle earlier and has decided to stop working.” She sighed. “I only arrived yesterday and already I’m helpless. And cold.” As if to illustrate her point, she pulled her beanie down even further.

He laughed. “Well, you’re in luck! I know exactly where there’s a café of your description around here. Go down the end of the street, turn left at the stop sign and it’s about a hundred metres up on your right.”

The girl looked at him, eyes sparkling. “Thanks so much! I can’t wait to get my hands on a hot cup of tea!” She shoved her belongings back into her pocket and wrapped her scarf tightly around her throat, pulling it up over her chin. “Thanks!” She turned and walked briskly away, following his directions. He walked in the opposite direction, recounting the brief meeting they’d had. It was already burnt into his memory. She’d been extremely pretty.
It was only as he put his key into the lock of his front door and turned it did he realise something very important.

He’d forgotten to ask for her name.

It didn’t matter, he decided after much deliberation. The chance of them ever meeting again was very, very unlikely.

And then he went on the X Factor.