The next few days passed in a daze. Archie couldn't shake the image of the guy, standing there with that same calm smile, holding his strawberry ice cream, the connection between them both tangible and fleeting. Every time Archie tried to focus on anything else—schoolwork, hanging out with his friends, even the rhythm of his daily life—his mind drifted back to the park, to that almost moment.
He kept telling himself it didn't matter. That maybe the guy was just some random person who'd had a passing memory, and Archie had read too much into it. After all, how could he possibly know him? It was just an ice cream cone, a few words, a look that felt like it held a thousand unsaid things.
But the more he tried to move on, the more the feeling lingered. It was like a song stuck in his head, a melody that echoed with a sense of something unfinished.
It was Anne who first noticed.
They were sitting at the student center, sharing a table in between classes, surrounded by the usual chaos of college life. Lila was arguing with Jonas over which is the superior cereal—Froot Loops or Cheerios—while Maya flipped through a magazine, half listening and half tuning them out. Marco was sitting across from them, sketching something on a napkin, his feet up on the chair beside him, the image of a rockstar even in the mundane.
Archie had barely touched his lunch, instead poking at his sandwich, eyes unfocused, staring at nothing in particular. His thoughts were far away, still hovering in that park, that moment with the guy, and the crushing sense that he'd missed something important.
"You're brooding again," Anne said, breaking the silence with her usual straightforwardness.
Archie blinked, startled, and looked up to see her watching him with her trademark mix of concern and amusement. "I'm not brooding," he protested, but the words fell flat, even to him.
She raised an eyebrow. "Then what's that look you've got going on? You look like someone who just realized the last season of their favorite show was a dream, and they still have to watch the finale anyway."
"I'm fine," he muttered, pushing his sandwich to the side and leaning back in his chair. But the truth was, he wasn't fine. Not really. He wasn't sure what was going on anymore. The encounter at the park had unsettled him, but more than that, it had left him wondering if he was chasing something that wasn't real. If his brain was just playing tricks on him, forcing him to create connections where there were none.
Anne studied him for a moment, then leaned forward, elbows on the table. "You know you don't have to do this whole 'I'm fine' act with me, right?"
"I'm not doing an act," Archie replied too quickly. "It's just... I don't know, Anne. I saw him again."
"Who?"
"The guy from the diner," Archie said, rubbing the back of his neck. "The one I keep dreaming about."
Anne's expression softened. She glanced over at the group, who were too caught up in their own argument about cereal to notice, and then looked back at Archie. "Wait. The guy who didn't recognize you?"
Archie nodded. "Yeah. Except this time, he did."
Anne's eyes widened slightly. "Really?"
"He remembered me. Said he'd seen me at the diner the other night." Archie's words came out in a rush, the confusion and excitement that had tangled in his chest since that moment bubbling to the surface. "He even said something weird. He said I 'belonged in some kind of story.'"
"Okay, okay, slow down," Anne said, leaning back in her chair, clearly processing the information. "So he recognized you, but it wasn't like you expected, right?"
"Yeah. He... he didn't ask for my name. He didn't stick around long enough for me to ask his. And then, he just... left." Archie's hands found their way to his hair, raking through it in frustration. "It felt like we were on the edge of something, Anne. Like something was about to happen, but then it didn't."
Anne was quiet for a beat, taking in everything he said. "So, what now?"
"I don't know. I feel like I should do something. Like... I don't know what, but I should."
Anne tilted her head thoughtfully. "What if you just let it go? I mean, if he's meant to be a part of your story, he'll show up again. You don't need to force anything."
"I don't know if I can," Archie admitted quietly. "Every time I try to focus on something else, my mind just keeps going back to him. It's like... it's like something's pulling me toward him, Anne."
Her gaze softened, and for a moment, she didn't say anything. She just reached across the table, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're not crazy, Archie. But you don't have to have all the answers right now. You don't have to fix everything in one go. Maybe... maybe the right moment will come."
"I don't know if I believe in the 'right moment,'" Archie muttered. "I feel like I missed mine."
Anne shot him a pointed look. "You're really bad at this whole 'letting things happen' thing, aren't you?"
"Maybe," Archie admitted, a small laugh escaping him. He looked at her, grateful for her steady presence. "But I don't know how to stop thinking about him."
Anne grinned. "Well, I can't exactly tell you how to stop thinking about him. But maybe—just maybe—if you stop trying so hard to make it fit, something will happen when you least expect it."
Before Archie could respond, Marco suddenly piped up from across the table. "You know, guys, if you're gonna have a deep talk, can you at least make it interesting? Like, maybe tell me how this guy looks? Because, as much as I'd love to contribute, I'm not sure 'mysterious stranger' is enough of a visual for me to care."
Archie smirked. "I don't even know what he looks like, Marco. It's like he's always... just out of reach. And I don't know if that's enough for me to keep chasing."
"Isn't that the fun part?" Marco said with a half-grin. "The chase? The mystery?"
Anne threw a mock glare at Marco. "You'd say that. Your life is one giant rock tour, you can't help it."
"Exactly. But seriously, Archie. If this guy is important, you'll know. I think you just have to wait and see."
Archie sat back, feeling a strange mix of frustration and relief. It wasn't the advice he wanted, but it was what he needed to hear. He couldn't rush this, couldn't force it into a neat little box. Some things were just out of his control, and maybe, just maybe, that was okay.
As the noise of the student center swirled around him, Archie felt something shift inside. It wasn't clarity. It wasn't understanding. But it was a start.
For the first time in days, he allowed himself to let go of the questions. Just for a moment.
Maybe the story wasn't over yet.
Maybe it had only just begun.