Page 8 of If We Meet Again

“That is very true. There must be some deep-rooted problem I am yet to discover,” Ashley teased.

“Charming.”

“What made you look in my direction, anyway? Was it the creepy way in which I refused tolook away?”

“You’ll be glad to know I didn’t find you creepy in the slightest. You are obviously attractive, so that appealed to me, but…” Ashley waited in anticipation, “…you just have this charming, engaging persona. I watched you laugh and I couldn’t look away. It was strange. Anyway, I’ll shut up now.”

Ashley punched the air with a sense of pure elation.

“So attractive and charming that you rejected me the first time?” Ashley joked.

“That is not true.”

“You reluctantly took my number the second time I came over, so I’ll let it slide.”

“Reluctantly? I was more than willing to take your number. In fact, I would have asked you first if the circumstances had been different,” Megan declared.

“What do you mean?” Ashley heard the bathroom door close. Madison had arisen earlier than expected.

“The group of friends I was with didn’t know I was gay. So, it put me in a strange position when you walked over because I really wanted to talk to you.”

“Didn’t know?”

“They do now. I told them shortly after you left. I wasn’t hiding it from them through fear they’d not be okay with it, I was just waiting for the right moment. It was the first time I’d seen them in almost two years, so it wasn’t the first thingon my mind.”

“One brief encounter and you’re already coming out to your friends. I must have made a good impression.” Ashley smirked. The conversation felt abnormally comfortable, whichbaffled her.

“You’re hilarious,” Megan mocked. “In all seriousness, they’re not stupid. I think they could tell from the energybetween us.”

The immediate chemistry had been clear to not only Ashley, but Megan and her friends as well. That discovery alone settled Ashley’s nerves.

“I am glad I could be ofassistance.”

Megan responded quietly to a mystery voice in thebackground.

“I need to go. My aunt is taking me for lunch, but maybe I can call you tomorrow?” The request filled Ashley with welcome anticipation.

“Sure, I’dlike that.”

“Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too. Goodbye, Megan.”

Ashley pressed the end call button, threw her phone onto the couch and ran towards Madison’s bedroom at the far end of the apartment, narrowly avoiding the iron column that stood between the kitchen worktop and the corridor that led to the bedrooms. She couldn’t contain her excitement, and whether Madison liked it or not, she was about to hear word-for-word the entire conversation.

3

Megan

Megan Davis pulled the curtains open in the expansive corner bedroom of the 21st-floor condo. Two separate floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked one of the largest and most recognised parks in the world, Central Park. The grand and iconic views that she had become so accustomed to over the years never failed to amaze her.

After graduating from Stanford, she had arrived in New York with no plan other than to see her family and explore the city she loved. Gaining a scholarship to Stanford to play NCAA Division 1 basketball was a dream come true. With over 400,000 high school basketball players in the USA and a 1.2% chance of making it to play D1 basketball, the chances were slim. When the head of recruitment called in the summer of 2010, it was an easy decision to make. The ticket to California was booked the following day.

Megan opened her suitcase at the foot of the bed and pulled out her shorts, a WNBA hoodie and her latest sneaker purchase—the Nike Kobe 9 Elite in white. The orange basketball sat out of place at the foot of the large grey bed, flanked by two mirrored bedside tables and a desk to match. Megan’s aunt had never had children or pets, so the condo was always show-home ready.

“Megan, I’m going to work. Will I be seeing youat dinner?”

Julie Davis popped her luxurious brown bob around the solid oak door.