Can I have your number? — Chapter Three

      A few days passed. Amanda was busy with finals and work. On Tuesday night, she came home and got on Facebook. A message popped up. To her surprise, it was from Boston. He had asked her if she was managing the next day at work. She wondered why on earth this boy was talking to her and what did he want? They continued on in conversation and ended up talking about work, and classical music. They discovered that they both adored Frank Sinatra, and that really caught her attention. This common interest was something special between them, though she didn’t quite realize that at the time. The conversation ended that night by Amanda complimenting Boston on his excellent vocabulary, and asking him for a lesson sometime. She truly was impressed (as well as a little intimidated) by the way he talked and presented himself.

        The following afternoon, Boston messaged Amanda. Amanda thought it was a little odd that he was talking to her again. She replied, while thinking that he was probably just trying to get to know her since she was his manager. They continued in an easy going conversation about music and movies. It wasn’t long before Amanda realized that he was really fun to talk to. Somehow, she could sense something special about this new friendship. It really was not romantic at all for her at this point, but she just felt drawn to him. This feeling only increased as they continued to talk as if they had been friends for years. She had never felt that way so quickly before. Her favorite part of their conversation that night was when they talked about their aspirations. It wasn’t long before Boston asked for her number, in the most disguised and clever of ways. Clueless Amanda gave it to him, all the while thinking he asked for her number because he felt bad for her. Little did she know that she would talk to this boy every single day from this day forward.

                                              * * *

         At this point, Boston was somewhat conflicted—he fancied Amanda so fervently, yet he had some things going against him. First of all, she was older than him (in fact her younger sister even surpassed him in age) by two years, two months, three weeks, and two days to be exact. Considering the man is older in a uniform relationship, this would be a deviation to be encountered. Secondly, Amanda had a quasi-boyfriend. Boston had done some studying, and found that Taurus—Amanda’s zodiac—is very stubborn, resistant to change, etc. He was not a passionate believer in this commonly deemed pseudoscience, but he knew it to often be uncannily accurate, so he took it into consideration. He deduced that Amanda was reluctant toward commitment in a romantic relationship; this could prove to be an impediment in his endeavors, but also the contrary, he was enticed by the challenge.

        It was the night of December 7. Boston was wasting time on Facebook. He glanced at the “chat” tab to find Amanda’s name at the top. He had added her as a friend two months ago along with all his other coworkers, but had never messaged her. After Facebook stalking her, he resolved to do just that.

        “Are you managing Wednesday?” was the first text he sent her. He knew she was most likely wondering why in the world this petty boy would be so bold as to attempt to exchange pleasantries with her, but he continued nonetheless. Their conversation flowed, wandering to such subjects as future careers and school. Boston also discovered that Amanda enjoyed the works of Frank Sinatra, which incited such attraction in him as was almost too much to handle—Frank Sinatra was his idol and role model, and the vast majority of his generation didn’t know anything about him other than his name. The fact that Amanda not only knew him, but appreciated him, was monumental. To augment his thriving fancy, when Amanda asked him what he was doing, he said “Facebook and Handel,” and to his astonishment, she actually recognized his reference, being George Frideric Handel. At this point his feelings for this woman were beyond description. She had exemplified a myriad of commendable qualities, each increasing her alluring mystique. Boston knew he was going to have to work for this woman, and he was ready to do just that. He had moderate confidence in his charm and his way with words. He was doubtful, but hopeful. He would do anything in his power to have this meritorious woman.

Earth Angel

Since the incident, Boston had not been able to stop thinking about Amanda. Day in and day out, he reminisced of her beauty. Her eloquent features recurred again and again in his memory. The images were compelling; they enraptured his soul, consuming his every thought. He had never felt so drawn to a woman, and was astonished by this sudden infatuation. He truly could only compare her to an angel. It was as if even beneath his superficial attraction to her, he could sense an even deeper beauty in her soul. Indeed, as he reached further into the past, he recalled other nights when she had been manager, particularly the first. It had been a few weeks ago. He had never given Amanda any thought other than judging her to be a very amenable young woman. While the night was young, he had asked another coworker who was to manage that evening. To his surprise, the reply was indeed Amanda. As he soon realized, this was actually a pleasant surprise—in fact, a surprisingly pleasant surprise; by some strange phenomenon, upon hearing these words he had experienced a sudden peace, a serenity that consumed his being, put him in a magnificent state of tranquility. He couldn't explain it. He immediately became aware of the fact that he had taken a liking to Amanda. He had spoken to her once and knew virtually nothing about her, yet he somehow held her in such high esteem. He felt the stress induced by other managers—and the job in general—melt away. It was inexplicable. This occurrence utterly fascinated him, but not with ambiguity; rather, with uncanny lucidity. Through that night's duration, he continued work with a new persona. He could almost feel a warmth in his innards. As he slaved away at this miserable job, he was unfazed by the unpleasantness of his duties: even the mere thought of Miss Amanda Hunsaker was enough to soothe him.

For the next several days, Boston's every thought was enveloped by this divine woman. He absolutely could not stop thinking about her. He was a very analytic person, at least when it came to the opposite sex and sociology, particularly romantic relationships. He had observed and sized up countless women, and none, not a single one, had come within miles of this one. He hardly knew her, yet he felt this way. How would he feel if they became more acquainted? She would be that much more incredible! He was absolutely affirmed of his inclination to pursue her, and so he did.