Hit or Miss

"Miranda, it's time for you to move on." Misty was finishing up her smoothie. We were in an ice cream shop picking up my niece's Cinderella cake for her surprise birthday party. Misty, for some reason, felt the need to point out the problems I had in my life. "You haven't dated anyone in a year. I feel bad when Shawn and I go out and leave you all alone on the couch." She motioned at me. "I mean, you've changed a lot since Nathan dumped you."

I rolled my eyes. Every day, it was Misty's concern about my happiness. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. "I don't need anyone. I'm just fine without a boyfriend."

"Oh please. You won't let any guy near you! I remember when Cameron tried to hold your hand last week." Misty sighed. "You punched him in the gut."

"The correct term is 'groping.' And he wasn't just trying to 'hold my hand.' He was staring at my cleavage." I crossed my arms as we stood up to walk back home. We stopped, waiting for the pedestrian signal to turn on. The cake's plastic see through box had a blue plastic ribbon tied around it. I couldn't believe Misty dragged me five blocks from our apartment to pick this up when she could've just taken a car. Or had her man-slave boyfriend pick it up.

"WATCH OUT!"

I turned around and thanks to my wonderful luck, collided with a cyclist. I fell onto the floor and shook my head. I tried to stand back up, checking to see if I was bleeding. Maybe a couple of bruises here and there, but no big deal. The person I collided with stood up, taking off his helmet and sunglasses. "I'm so sorry," he apologized, running a hand through his longish blond hair. "I wasn't paying attention, and I..." He saw the cake in the street. Grace's cake. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Who was the cake for?"

"My niece." This guy was pretty tall. He was still staring at the cake. Now it was being demolished by all the cars running over it. The sky blue icing oozed out, and some of the cake seeped out through the broken box. Misty crinkled her nose.

"Look. I gotta go help your sister when the decorations. I'll meet you there, okay?" She ran off, prbably fantasizing about what would happen between me and Mr. Lance Armstrong over here. "Tell me when you find a replacement cake!" she yelled.

I started walking back in the direction of the ice cream shop. The guy was following beside me with his bike. "My name's Zack. Zack Merrick." He stuck out a hand.

"Miranda. Pleasure." I kept my eyes on the lookout for the small parlor, ignoring "Zack."

"I feel terrible for ruining your niece's cake. Let me buy you a new one, at the very least," he begged, still following me up the street. I stopped and stepped into the store. Zack followed me in, leaning his bike against the building. "Please, Miranda?"

I sighed. "Fine." The store clerk scrutinized me.

"Weren't you just in here with a friend of yours like...two seconds ago?"

"I um...ruined the cake." Zack rubbed his neck, embarrassed. I almost laughed. "Is there any way we can get another one?"

"It'll take a couple of hours." The clerk crossed her arms. "My dad's going to be super pissed. He spent so much time on it."

"I'm sorry," we both apologized, and then we looked at each other. I gave the girl my phone number, so her father could call me when the cake finished. The girl didn't know the price of the cake, and Misty had the receipt. I didn't even remember the cost of the cake. We walked out of the parlor, and Zack grabbed his bike.

"I'd feel terrible for leaving you here," he said, walking with me back to the crosswalk.

"What do you suggest we do?" I still had to wait for the cake to be done, after all. I had to kill time, but I didn't want to walk five blocks home and walk five blocks back. You see, I don't have a car. "I can't exactly go home."

"How about we do some stuff together?" Zack suggested, patting his handlebars. "Just sit here, and I'll take us to the park."

"Zack, no offense or anything, but I don't really know you." I backed off a little bit.

"Miranda, I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're thinking." Zack grinned slightly. "And I still have to pay for that cake." He motioned to his handlebars again. "Come on. I'd love to get to know you." I shrugged at this point, finally sitting on the bars.

"Do you do this with every girl you meet?"

"Just the cute ones."

Off to the park, where all the little kids are playing tag and hopscotch. Zack and I sat on the bench, talking about Grace for a while. She was a little blond toddler, and she was adorable. From time to time, I did get mad at her for drawing on my books and papers, but I usually made my sister pay for the damage.

We switched the topic to him. He was in a band and played bass. He liked being active, and he looked like he was in amazing shape. Zack was handsome, and teenage girls walking their dogs couldn't help but stare. He liked touring, but he missed his friends back home. I told him I would too.

My cell phone rang. "Hello?" I answered.

"Your cake's done." The clerk from the parlor sounded pissed. "You can come pick it up now."

"Okay. Thank you." The girl hung up on me rudely, and Zack picked up his bike. He patted the handlebars, and I hopped on. Zack peddled, swiftly navigating back to the shop. I was holding onto the handles for dear life, feeling as though I'd fall flat on my face at any time.

The girl handed over the cake, which didn't look as good as the original. I couldn't complain, though. Zack paid for it, no matter how much I protested, and I checked my cell phone: 5:52 PM.

I spent two hours with someone I didn't know.

We marched out of the store, and Zack smiled weakly at me. "So, this is good-bye?" he asked, scratching his head.

His grin made me feel terrible. As he was walking away with his bike, I called out to him. "Hey, Zack, do you want to come to Grace's party?"

He smiled. "I'd love to."