Two crossing paths

part 6: getting personal

A few seconds passed, and Ann sent Adam a message on Telegram—a new app for him but one she often used to stay in touch with her father, Yasser, who was living abroad. Adam hadn't used the app in years, except for some muted medical groups he had no interest in. Telegram reminded him of his younger days when he was the admin of a large group dedicated to helping high school students with various subjects. Back then, he was 19, and the app had been a space of both learning and distraction. Many girls tried to approach him under the guise of needing help, but Adam had always been wary of online flattery. To him, people behind screens were just that—digital phantoms, devoid of the reality required for genuine connection. He ignored them, along with the unsettling messages from strange accounts, even some affiliated with ISIS, which had left him both angry and uneasy.

But those memories were just fleeting flashes as he opened the app now, ready to embark on something new with Ann.

Ann immediately sent, “Hey... it’s much better in here.”

Adam replied, “Yes, definitely. Telegram is light and quick.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, each message met with an immediate response. The sense of connection deepened with the knowledge of when the other was typing, online, or had seen a message. It added a layer of comfort that hadn’t been there before. He was reassured knowing she wasn’t annoyed, busy, or distracted, and she felt the same. The time they spent talking grew exponentially—from two hours, to five, to seven, until they found themselves talking for entire days.

Humans are complex creatures. Not everyone finds it easy to be comfortable around others, but sometimes, it’s as if certain people were designed to fit within a very narrow spectrum of compatibility. Even within that spectrum, the fit gets narrower and narrower. Why is it that one particular person, out of all those we encounter, feels so easy to connect with?

Ann typed, “Oh, you look so young here.”

Adam, puzzled, responded, “Oh, you mean my profile picture? Yeah, I was still a baby-faced high schooler then.”

Ann smiled as she replied, “You still are baby-faced, even now.”

Feeling playful, Adam shot back, “Well, you’re such a baby too—you look so young.”

Ann’s inner child danced with joy. “Really? You see me like that? Most people tell me I look like a mom, but it’s true, I am such a baby.”

Adam grinned and said, “Well, if I’m a baby, then you’re still 19—you’re practically a fetus to me. No, an embryo!”

Ann laughed, “You’re silly.”

Adam thought for a moment. He knew she loved tea, and though he was in the mood for some himself, he didn’t want her drinking alone. He asked, “Mrs. Teacups, want to make some tea?”

Ann’s heart swelled at the kindness in his offer. How did he know I was craving tea? I wasn’t even sure what I wanted myself! This man... She replied, “Will you make some tea with me? I only drink green tea, though. I’m not sure if you have it, but you can make regular tea—it’s okay.”

Adam responded, “Sure, let’s tea up some mugs. I’ve got green tea.”

Ann’s excitement was palpable. “That’s so funny and cute!”

The truth was, Adam didn’t have any green tea in the kitchen, but he told her he did. Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys, took the elevator down, and hurried to the nearest supermarket. Within ten minutes, he was back, tea in hand, the water already boiling. He wasn’t entirely sure why he had rushed out—was it the desire to try green tea or the experience of sharing it with Ann? He couldn’t say for certain, but he liked the feeling.