SAM
A cold wind whipped down the street, made even colder, I thought, by the imposing buildings that seemed to be looking down at me in contempt. What are you doing here, you pathetic, scruffy excuse for a human being? they seemed to say. I scowled back. I was there on an important mission. Something that really mattered. This was about love! One human concerned about another. Something you’d know nothing about, you . . . you . . . buildings. Ha! I told them, all right. I am on a mission. I am chasing Charlie, no less. Operation Chasing Charlie. I liked that. I smiled and then stopped. Focus, focus, focus, girl. My eyes were glued to the main entrance of the hospital, a revolving door simultaneously sucking people in and spitting others out.
Just to be clear, I wasn’t chasing him – I just wanted to see his face. It had been three days since his party and he hadn’t been in touch. So far I had successfully resisted contacting him but my will was being gnawed away by an impatient and hungry heart. If I could just glimpse him I would be able to get through another twenty-four hours without calling him, through til Wednesday, perhaps even Thursday. But then it would be almost a week since it had happened and surely he’d have been in touch by then?
I needed to see his face for myself. Even a fleeting glance would do. Would he look drawn or happy? I was hoping for happy but, then again, if he had reached that point after the break-up, why hadn’t he called? And if he was still depressed – well, I had to hope he wasn’t pining after Lucy. A biting wind whipped around my legs and I dug my hands further into my pockets.
After waiting for twenty-two cold minutes he finally left the building. He strode out and turned left, and I felt as if my gaze was somehow glued to him, so intensely was I looking at him. Surely he would feel it and turn my way? But he strode off and turned left towards the nearby Tube – which I dared not follow him on – and was gone. That was it. I’d seen him. And he looked, I thought, decidedly unhappy.