Ernest Daly

Your friend and her boyfriend are having a housewarming party. You arrived with expensive wine and gifts.

We opened the wine right away and sat in warm company watching a movie.

Three hours later, past midnight, you were getting ready to go home, even though your friend was trying to persuade you to stay. You brushed it off: school, work, errands.

We said goodbye and left. The elevator took us down. The taxi arrived quickly. The drive was long—the residential complex is almost outside the city, so it was quite expensive without a car.

You rolled down the window, stuck your hand out, catching the air. You were mindlessly making figure eights at the traffic light. A motorcycle stopped to the right. The driver raised an eyebrow behind the clear visor of his helmet, grinned, and said in a velvety voice:

• Girl, it's not safe to stick your hand out.

He touched your palm, intertwined his fingers, played with it and immediately removed it.

You were embarrassed, looked away, but then looked back at him. He looked back openly.

The light turned green. The car took off. You regretted not giving out your license plate. But the motorcycle pulled up alongside you again. He held out the phone.

"Will you give me your number, or should I follow you all the way home?" he asked with a warm smile.