Story 2: The Wave That Wasn't There
*(Fits Chapter: "The Awkward Wave" / Social Static)*
I was walking down the street, listening to music, feeling good. I looked up and saw Sarah. Well, someone who looked exactly like Sarah from high school. She was looking right at me. Her eyes locked with mine. A smile broke across her face.
Naturally, I smiled back and gave a big, enthusiastic wave. "Hey!" I mouthed.
She didn't wave back. Instead, she kept walking straight toward me, her eyes sliding past my shoulder to the person walking *behind* me. The smile never left her face, but it wasn't for me. She hugged the stranger behind me, laughing loudly.
**Huh?**
My hand was still in the air. Halfway up. Frozen in a weird salute. I quickly tried to convert the wave into a hair fix, running my fingers through my bangs, then pretending to stretch my arm out to the side as if hailing a cab that wasn't there. My face burned hot. I wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow me whole. Why did I assume it was me? Why do we always think we are the main character in everyone else's story?
I kept walking, mortified, replaying the scene ten times in my head. *She definitely saw me waving. She definitely knew it wasn't for me. Now she thinks I'm delusional.*
**Hmm...**
Later, over coffee, I told my friend about it. She laughed and said, "Who cares? She probably didn't even notice." And that's when it hit me. We spend so much time analyzing our own embarrassing moments, constructing entire narratives about what others think of us. But the truth is, everyone else is too busy worrying about their *own* awkward waves to remember yours. The embarrassment was real, but the audience was imaginary. Next time, maybe I'll just keep my hands in my pockets until I'm 100% sure. Or maybe, I'll just wave anyway. The world needs more waves, even the mistaken ones.