November 30 @ 9:42 A.M.: Evan

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The tinkle of the automatic doorbell at Beacon Street Dunkin Donut had become a good friend of mine over the past months.

But today, its cheery ring held a sense of urgency. It was reminding me that the time to give my phone number to Braces was running out.

The woman behind the counter smiled at me. "Good morning, Evan! The same as usual?"

"Good morning, Mary Anne! Yes, please." I grinned back.

She caught a Sugar Raised in a paper bag and handed it to me. I paid, asking her to keep the change.

"Thank you." Mary Anne straightened her black uniform over her ample bosom. "It's a beautiful day, out there! Enjoy it!"

"It is indeed. You too." I waved her goodbye.

The smell of the warm pastry made my mouth water as I left the shop. This was another thing I had become used to over the past months. My boss of bosses, Liam, believed the no-more-than-a-hundred-feet-from-food policy of Best Boston was giving me first signs of a potbelly, but I secretly suspected the Sugar Raised to be the culprits.

On the sidewalk, I stopped, facing the thundering traffic and trying to get my mental bearings.

What an avalanche of news had hit me this morning.

Today's bi-colored Braces was single and ready to mingle. And MBTA was about to re-route the bloody Red Line.

A plan, that's what I needed now. A solid plan based on solid facts.

And I only had one month left for that plan to succeed.

December would start tomorrow. Taking into account that the last month of the year was littered with public holidays... This gave me only about three weeks to establish true contact with my train lady. Instead of the usual four.

Let's see...

If I took the same subway each morning, looking out for her at Charles/MGH with my phone number ready to flash at her, I actually stood quite a good chance to succeed.

And, if this strategy didn't succeed in the first week or so, I could just take an earlier train and get out at Charles/MGH. I'd just wait for her, looking into each and every northbound Red Line that arrived. I knew exactly where she was sitting. I was bound to find her that way.

Yes.

The plan was foolproof. 

A superdad can make things come true, Janice had said to me.

And she had been right. 

Probabilities were my fucking job. I bloody knew how to tweak them.

Bad luck is but a lie invented by people bad at stats. That's what Liam kept saying.

And he, too, had been right.

If you knew about chances and how to tweak them, you could trick bad luck.

Nothing was impossible.

I turned around and walked down the street, adoring the daring outline of One Beacon Street, the tallest building in the city. A monument built to celebrate the human mind and its skill at planning and scheming.

But what if Braces wasn't interested in me in that way? What if she laughed at the bespectacled math nerd showing her his number?

What if she was into men like Mr. Chiseled Jaws—all gorilla looks, gorilla muscle, and gorilla brains?

As I arrived at the intersection of Tremont Street, a fiery-red Ped Xing stopped me. The little figure just stood there in his traffic light box, teasing me.

You know what? I told him, right into his tiny, crimson face. I don't care if Braces isn't into guys like me. If that's the case, she'll let me know, and I'll bow my head in defeat. But I have to make an effort. If I don't give this a try, I'll hate myself for the rest of my life.

As if yielding to the convincing power of my argumentation, Ped Xing turned into a green sign of Wanderlust.

See? Even you can't stop me. I blew a raspberry at the little figure. 

I was grinning like a maniac as I crossed the lanes. And stopped when I saw her—a woman with red and blue hair. She was also crossing the street, on the other side of the square. Her back was towards me, but there couldn't be two such bi-colored manes in the whole city.

Could there?

Her arm was hooked into a broad-shouldered hoodie guy walking next to her.

Someone honked.

She turned her face in my direction—frowning her thin and long face and wrinkling a hooked nose.

Not Braces.

I exhaled in relief.

As I resumed my steps to gain the other sidewalk, something hit me from the side—powerful and unstoppable.

And the bright morning turned into black midnight.

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