I was sitting in my normal spot on the New York City sidewalk, knitting a small sweater with my last spool of thread. I glanced at the tin can beside me and sighed at the little amount of change inside: 2 quarters, 5 nickels, and a dime. Someone had actually been generous enough to leave a whole dollar. With this much money, I could get a bag of chips and possibly a water from the vending machines across the street, which is more than I can say for most days.
      Sometimes, if I’m really lucky, I’d have enough to buy some material for my knitting. I usually find material for it and even pieces of clothing from the rich folk’s garbage. You wouldn’t believe some of the beautiful things they throw away.
      Knitting is what I spend most of my time doing. That and avoiding the looks of pity and disgust from passer-byes. All I have to my name is the clothes on my back, my knitting sticks, and the products of my knitting. I line them up beside me everyday in the hope that someone, someday might notice them and possibly buy a few things. Maybe tell their friends about it, bringing in more business. I know it’s a ridiculous thing to assume but maybe then, I could afford a real meal or a bigger coat. It’s only October and there was already patches of snow and ice on the ground. It was only a matter of time before a layer of white covered everything.
      I used to have bigger dreams than simply being noticed for my pathetic knittings. I was going to make something of myself. I was going to be big. You see, I wanted to be a fashion designer. I wanted people everywhere to be wearing my clothes and for everyone to know my name. And I had a plan too.
      After college, I went from a small town in Georgia all the way to New York where I spent months applying for the most famous fashion companies. I was rejected time after time and my dreams were absolutely crushed. Let’s just say I wasn’t as good as I thought I was.
      So now this is my life. Only 25 years old and it’s gone to complete s***. Day after day of sitting, waiting, and hoping, dreaming of what could’ve been. I sighed as I continued my attempt at knitting a blanket, my hands shaking from the cold. Over and under, over and under, over and under.
      Suddenly, a flash of white filled my vision and a powdery substance lodged into my throat causing me to choke and cough. Gasping for breath, I looked up to see small figures running away and laughing. Those damn kids were always pulling pranks and finding new ways to make my life harder as if it wasn’t hard enough already. I cursed under my breath as I identified the white substance as baby powder. It was all over me: in my hair, my clothes, my face. I guess this would mean another trip to the fountain in the park. I gathered my few things, placing my pieces in an old bag I knitted ages ago and slowly rose from the ground.

      My legs were asleep and seemed as if they would collapse from beneath me but I continued to walk towards the park, rubbing my hands together and blowing on them in hope to reserve some warmth. It was getting dark and darkness is a scary thing in New York especially for someone like me. I got a few whistles from some of the lowlifes that were in the same position as me: no home, no place to go. But even now, I would never stoop to there level.
It was a lonely life. No friends. No family. They gave up on me as soon as I moved to New York. Just me and my thoughts.
      I walked into the gates of the park. Twinkling lights connected the street lamps and if I weren’t so bitter, I may have considered it beautiful. A young couple ran past me, throwing snow at each other, playful, happy and in love. Must be nice.
     I’m just now realizing what I must look like to others. Dirty, covered in white. It occurred to me that no one even asked me if I was alright. If I needed help. Even though I must have passed thousands of people on the way here. This is New York for Christ’s sake. It scares me how ignorant and in-compassionate people are becoming.
      Now this is the hard part. I got goosebumps just looking at the running water. I’ve figure out that the best way to do this is just jump in, don’t think about it, and get out as fast was possible.
I looked left and right. No one was around.
      I jumped in, clothes and all. It was worse than I thought. The cold bit at any exposed skin and seeped into my clothes. I quickly scrubbed off all the baby powder and rinsed my hair. I was almost finished when I heard a deep voice behind me.
      “Miss?”
      I froze as fear filled my stomach. I turned around and my eyes locked onto a pair of dark brown eyes. I took a quick scan of this handsome stranger: brown hair, brown eyes, a bit of scruff on the side of his face, and a strong build. He could easily attack me if he wanted to.
      “Are you alright?”
      I didn’t answer. What should I say? What should I do? I debated jumping out of the fountain and making a run for it but it would be no use. He would catch me.
      And that’s when I realized I was still in the fountain. Still not saying a word, I stepped out with as much dignity as possible and stood on the sidewalk, shivering and considering my next move.
He took a step forward, causing me to gasp and take a step back. He could pounce at any moment.
      “It’s ok.”, he said in a concerned voice, “I’m not going to hurt you.”
      Liar. He was lying. No one in New York is this nice. He’s just trying to get inside my head.
      I stood stock still as he began moving closer. My heart sped up with every step he took. He got close enough to put his hands on my shoulders and I closed my eyes. This was it. Tomorrow all I’ll be is a dead body on the news.
      “You must be freezing.”, he practically whispered.
      I opened my eyes to see a heart stopping smile. I stiffened as he took off his coat and resumed to place it over my shoulders, pulling the edges in so that it covered me up. I had to say, although it big on me, it was comfortable.
      He must’ve realized how freaked out I was because he took a step back and held out his hand, “Hi.”, he said, “I’m Dean.”
I reluctantly met his hand with mine and shook, not letting my guard down.
      “And you are?”, he asked.
      “Lia.”, it was the first thing she said to him, her voice as cold as her body temperature at the moment.
      “Well, Lia, I think I’ve thoroughly managed to creep you out.”
      A small laugh escaped my lips without permission.
      “I’ll just leave you, uh… to it.”, he said as he began to walk away. I have to admit I didn't want him to leave. It seemed to become lonelier and lonelier with each step he took away from me.
      Lia, what are you doing? The first real conversation you have in months (with a cute guy!!) and you scare him off? Call him back, follow him, DO SOMETHING.
      I opened my mouth, just about to ask him to come back when he turned back around on his own. There was a few yards distance between us now.
      “Okay, the curiosity is killing me.”, he admitted as he began filling in the gap between us, “Why the hell were in the fountain on a night like this?”
      I felt the blood rush to my face as I tried to come up with some sort of lie that didn’t make me seem crazy and homeless.
      But I think he figured it out himself.  I noticed his eyes take a quick scan of my faded, old clothes, wild, tangled hair, and the bag with all my belongings inside.
      “Oh…”, he muttered, understanding my situation without me having to explain.
      Well, that was the end of that relationship, whatever it might’ve turned out to be. This is why I don’t even try to make friends anymore. I gave up and began speed walking away, knowing he would be happy that the crazy girl from the fountain was gone.
       “Wait!”, Dean shouted, “Lia!”
      That made me pause. He remembered my name. Unfortunately, in the midst of my daze, Dean was able to catch up with me.
      “Where are you going?”, he asked.
      “Sorry for bothering you, sir, but I have to go now.”
      “Go where?”, he asked, knowing all too well I didn’t have an answer.
       Tears began to well up in my eyes as I admitted “I don’t know.”, too ashamed to make eye contact.
      “Hey, it’s okay.”, he said and surprised me with a hug. It felt good. Warm. Like someone in this world actually gave a s*** about me.
      “Okay.”, he began in a stern voice, “I mean this in the most non creepy way possible. But would you like to come to my apartment? Not for those reasons!”, (my eyes had widened), “You can wash up, eat, and have a good nights rest in my guest room.”
        I know it probably wasn’t the safest idea but could it be any less safe than spending another night on the streets? I think not. Plus, I’ve learned a couple self defense moves by now so I should be fine.
         I simply nodded my head causing a goofy smile to appear on his face which somehow made me smile too.
        “This way, M’lady.”, he joked as he twined his arm with mine and began leading the way. I made a face at the nickname and he said,
       “What? Would you rather me call you Fountain Girl?”
        I laughed out loud at that one.
       “Okay. Fountain Girl it is then.”
        I pushed him playfully and he pushed me back, making feel things I haven’t felt since high school.
        The streets of New York seemed brighter with him by my side, not as dark and gloomy. Usually, I’d be on high lookout right now, watching my back, and avoiding any nooks or crannies without lights. But with him I felt safe. Protected. I smiled as joy, an emotion I haven’t felt in a long time, washed over me.
        I had finally found a friend in this God-forsaken city.