It started off as an innocent walk around the square. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so innocent, maybe I did take a detour just to walk by and see your face. So what? I’m a teenage girl, and you’re the cute guy that’s out of my league—it’s perfectly normal, expected even.
I don't know how many times it happened, before you started returning my curious glance. There you were and there I was, the only two people in the plaza after a late winter evening. I would pass by the small café you work at, peek in as I passed by, the warm smell of coffee inviting me in.
So why did I decide to walk in that day, you might ask me. Well, maybe it was your expectant look before I came, or the overwhelming need to break my routine, so I did it. I walked in and sat down, not yet realizing it wasn’t have a seat and wait to be served.
I could feel myself turning red, my whole body heating up despite the chill, I could feel your questioning glances, my own embarrassment radiating off me. Thank god it was just you in there. If I were more confident, I would laugh it off, gone to the counter where you stood and made small talk, maybe get your name, maybe get a smile. If I were less prideful, I would just walk out, shrug it off; go home like always. But me, I'm pretty average, and in most scenarios painfully indecisive.
My fingers twitched against my worn jeans, my eyes cast down watching the snow slide off my boots onto the scuffed floor forming a slushy puddle. I had no idea what to do; the roaring in my ears got louder as my hands trembled harder.
That's when I noticed your shoes. Right next to mine. No tapping, no impatient movement, just the steady understanding in your solid stance. I looked up at you; our eyes meeting, and I could feel my blush melt off, along with all my insecurities, like the snow on my boots, as I heard you ask, "Can I get you anything?"
Your pen was poised over your improvised notepad ready to take my order, ready to save me from myself. I smiled, and swallowed nervously, "Hot chocolate?”
You scribbled it down with your cute grin and replied," Coming right up.”
I blushed when our fingers touched, wrapped around a warm cup, still full of chagrin. That’s when you sat down opposite me, asking for my name.
“Ann,” I said softly, blowing on the drink, nervously not looking at you.
“So, Ann,” you said, drawing out the a in my name, “do you frequent closed coffee shops often?”
I looked up, my confusion morphing into horror as I took in the shop. Half the chairs were on the tables, a rag the chair beside me. My face flushed and I straightened up, my chair screeching before falling over. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered, trying to fight the urge to run as far away as possible. “I j-just, I’ll go--”
That’s when you started laughing. I’ve never felt so completely mortified in my life, so I did what I do best. I ran. Well, I awkwardly shuffled around you then sped walked to the door, head down, before you grabbed me, “Wait.”
My eyes widened, as the hot chocolate in my hand sloshed over the side of the cup and onto the floor and all over your gray converses. “Oh God, I’m sorry!” I quickly snatched up the cloth on the chair beside us bending down to wipe it before you tugged me up, your hand still grasping my puffy jacket.
“Ann,” was all you said, and it was enough to send my heart beating at an impossibly fast rate. Well, that, and your pretty brown eyes.
“Oh!” I gasped, “I didn’t pay you for this!” I said, looking down at the half full cup resting on the table. I jerked out of your grip and began to dig through my bad, looking for my wallet. It’s in here somewhere…unless I forgot it at home. Oh, God, what if I did forget it? I mentally smacked myself—this is why I shouldn’t try new things. My hand brushed across several notebooks, desperately searching. This was so embarrassing.
“Ann,” you said again, your voice sounded amused, but why would you be amused? I practically made you stay late to make a drink then dumped it on you, and ran out not paying for it! My hands furiously searched my bag, and I bit down on my lip hard, God, I was so stupid.
You chuckled, then, you cupped my face with both of your hands. My eyes grew large in shock as you stepped closer, my ski jacket brushing your sweater clad chest. “Ann,” you said, and I held my breath. This was where the guy would confess his love and he would dash off into the sunset with his Juliet, right? You chuckled at my hopeful expression, and I could feel my face turning a deeper shade. I really hoped you couldn’t read thoughts.
“It’s fine,” you said softly.
I stared blankly up at you until your words set in. “What?” I responded hoarsely, stupidly, my voice cracking.
You smiled gently, “It’s fine.” I stared disbelieving.
You took your hands off me and said, “I-I’ve actually been hoping you would come in.”
“You have?” I tried to keep my jaw up from shock.
“Yeah,” you said, looking down at your damp shoes, “I was walking out when you passed by one day, and I began to stay later, I mean closing the shop later, hoping you would come in.”
“You have?” I asked excitedly, this was like a movie! I didn’t think it would be possible to have someone as cute as he was do—
“Ann,” you said sternly, “say something else.”
Your eyes twinkled and I blushed again, “uh, sorry.” You flipped your hair out of your eyes as you laughed, and I sighed, your laugh taking away my nerves. “Well,” I said, suddenly brave, “from what I recall, your past sentences were made up of, Ann, Ann, and Ann.”
It was your turn to blush, and I secretly did a jig inside my head, score one for me! You sat down and reached out, pinching my sweater as you tugged me until I was sitting on my chair again, “Well, I’m just glad I finally get to know your name.”