shallow waters, never met,
What I needed.
I'm letting go, a deeper dive.
- Faded, Alan Walker
~*~
I didn't even get to say goodbye.
I knew that sounded sappy, but it was true. He was there, and then he wasn't, like a flash of lightning.
Did I really look that bad?
I sat back heavily on the bench, staring at the direction in which he had gone and thought about everything which had happened that night.
Mystery Boy was funny, he was quirky and a good dancer. He wasn't an ideal Prince Charming, but that was what I had liked the most about him, from what I knew of him.
And then, it suddenly it hit me; it hit me hard. I had spent time with for one night. One dance.
We'd had one conversation. I didn't lose him; I didn't have him to lose in the first place.
I didn't know his first name or the color of his eyes. I didn't know the shape of his face or the size of his eyebrows.
I smoothed out my dress and stood up, a determined thought in my mind. I was going to forget all about Mystery Boy and live my life in peace.
"Cath? Catherine McKinns, is that you?"
I spotted a wisp of black hair and a gown in red. "Lizzie!" I exclaimed, relief filling my system. "What were you doing?"
"What was I doing?" She had taken off her mask and was raising an eyebrow at me. "Cath, the last time I saw you, you were dancing with a guy. A hot guy."
"Well, the hot guy ran away, so now I'm on my own too," I said through gritted teeth.
"Ran away?" Lizzie asked loudly, which caused about a dozen people to turn and look at us. "Sorry," she told them with a huge smile, twirling her hair with her finger.
"He ran away," I repeated for Lizzie's benefit. "I revealed my face and then he ran away."
She sat down next to me and placed her chin on her hand as you if deep in thought. "Did he leave anything behind?" she finally asked.
"I don't . . . " My eyes wandered over to the small stool next to the bench in which we were sitting on. His iPhone.
Well, what was I going to do with that? I couldn't go around asking people if they had lost their phone -- I'd just end up looking like an idiot.
"Well," I said, reaching out and picking it up. "As it turns out, yes."
Without even letting me take a look at the phone, she snatched it from my hand and proceeded to examine it. "It's locked," she announced.
"Well, duh." I mean, which idiot would leave his phone around if it wasn't password protected?
Then again, which idiot will run away from his dance partner without saying a word?
Lizzie looked aghast, her eyes shining with sympathy. She looked so upset that I reached out and put an arm around her.
"It's okay," I told her. "He was nothing special."
And then the phone rang.
I jumped, my hand fumbling for the phone. Mystery Boy's phone.
"Who is it?" Lizzie asked in a hushed whisper.
"It's Zach Smith," I replied, my mouth stretching into a small smile. "It's Zach Smith," I said again, louder and high-pitched.
"The Zach Smith?" Lizzie asked cautiously. "Teen Model Zach Smith, class president Zach Smith?"
