She took a sip of her ginger green tea, smiling as she set down her cup. Her mouth opened, yet nothing came out. She held up one finger signaling Thomas to wait, while she picked up her green tea and took a second drink.
“I love you,” Thomas repeated. Thomas was her third college boyfriend. Her first college boyfriend had been her old high school sweetheart, but that didn’t last when he moved 452 miles east of her. Her second college boyfriend had torn her heart to bits, when she began dating Thomas, she had only thought they’d be friends.
Her face flushed, she cringed and frowned.
“Don’t you have anything you want to say to me?” He asked her. Thomas’s face was getting red. His eyes were darting back and forth from her left to her right eye, studying her, carefully.
She took a third sip of her ginger green tea. It was almost gone. “Thomas, you’re a fantastic guy…”
“Oh my God, you’re dumping me?” Thomas’s face was definitely red now. “I tell you I love you and your dumping me?” He grabbed his backpack, pulling it close to his side as he stood, he stared down at me, face draining of color, “Just think about it?” He said, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I nodded with lips glued shut. I sat there quietly for at least fifteen more minutes, ordering a second green tea. I thought about Thomas. I thought about everything but Thomas.
Oh man, I thought, too much green tea. I scooted out of the booth and left in search of the bathroom.
Once found and utilized, I headed back to my table to finish my tea. As I got closer however, I noticed a blue shirted young man was sitting there. Blue shirt was sitting in the seat opposite of mine. If I let myself admit it, blue shirt man was handsome.
The man in the blue shirt glanced up at me as I approached, his dark blue eyes met mine evenly, and his crooked smile was infectious. The hair on his head was brown, naturally highlighted, and wavy. Up close I could see that the blue shirt appeared to be silk.
I smiled automatically, “Hi,” I started, “This is actually my seat.” I say.
“Your seat?” The man in the blue shirt appeared to ponder this for a minute, while I shifted back and forth from foot to foot uncomfortably. “This is quite a dilemma.” The man said.
I was confused, dilemma?
“Yes,” he continued, “There is only one way to settle it. You see, I am quite comfortable here, and clearly, so are you?” He gazed at me, waiting for my acknowledgment.
I nodded in agreement.
“Well, it’s settled then. You’ll join me for lunch!” the man in the blue shirt said, clapping his hands together as though the idea was a new fantastic plan.
I blinked back the surprise, then I blinked back the blush that threatened to surface. Instead I nodded, to the man in the blue shirt agreeing with him. Thomas! I thought quickly of Thomas. Thomas was what I was supposed to be thinking about right now. Irritation sparked a boldness in me and I responded to the man in the blue shirt, “I only have a minute,” I warned.
The man in the blue shirt nodded, his face not the least bit perturbed by my attitude. I sat down, slightly uncomfortable with blue shirt’s piercing gaze. “What?” I asked him, referring to his stare.
“It’s just that I saw you when you were walking up and you looked so sad. I’m trying to figure you out.” I started to open my mouth, he hushed me with his finger. “No, don’t tell me. I want to guess on my own.”
Blue shirt was bold, and now here he was trying to pick me apart, well, let him try to guess what was wrong with me, I thought. I nodded at him, smiling for the first time since approaching the table. “Okay,” I said, “Good luck.”
Blue shirt drummed his fingers on the table while studying me. For the second time I felt those dark blue eyes pierce mine, and I found myself unable to look away. I blushed.
“What’s your name?” I asked him, while waiting for him to reach his conclusion about me.
“No names.” The man in the blue shirt said, “It’s more mysterious that way, don’t you think?” He winked at me.
Flustered, I didn’t know how to reply. Instead my face answered his question for me by turning 20 shades redder then it was already.
I couldn’t help but compare Thomas to the man in the blue shirt. Thomas was nothing like the man in the blue shirt. Thomas didn’t cause me to blush uncontrollably in the middle of the day.
Thomas was like a comfortable pair of old running shoes, that fit perfectly. The man in the blue shirt was more like eating Italian food on St. Patrick’s Day. He didn’t fit, and yet I couldn’t stop watching him.
Attractive blue eyes met mine from across the table. He had been studying me for some time, and I had been shamelessly returning the favor. “I think I’ve got it.” He said. “I know why you were so sad.”
I smiled, ready to hear the story he had surmised out of me with such a short meeting. “Go for it.” I said eagerly.
The man in the blue shirt looked at me calmly and his voice slowed and quieted to nearly a whisper, “A young man professed his love to you and you aren’t certain you feel the same way.”
My mouth dropped open as shock registered my face. How did he know?
The man in the blue shirt for the first time looked slightly less confident, he blushed, “I heard.” He whispered.
“I’m sorry?” I said, my mouth still gaping open. “You what?”
“I overheard you.” The man in the blue shirt said louder, he blushed.
I stared at the table. I could feel my face turning hot. I started to get up.
“No wait.” The man in the blue shirt said. “Please.” He reached out touching my arm. His fingers were warm on my arm.
“Why should I?” I asked.
“Because…” he stared at me again with his dark blue piercing eyes. “can’t you feel it?” His hand was still on my arm. I trembled slightly.
“I don’t feel anything” I said quickly.
“Are you sure?” He asked. His hand trailed down the length of my arm until he was caressing my hand. “Can’t you feel it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, although my voice shook slightly with the effort. I didn’t pull my hand away.
“It’s electric between us.” The man in the blue shirt said. “You feel it too?” His fingers were still brushing inside the palm of my hand. I could feel the spark between us but I wasn’t willing to admit it to him after he admitted to listening in on a private conversation.
I almost didn’t hear her, the waitress. I didn’t hear her the first time she spoke. It was the second time when she repeated herself when I finally heard her, “Would you like more ginger green tea?” She asked me.
I looked at the empty seat across from me, and then around at the now nearly empty café after the lunch rush. I looked down at my hand, where I imagined the burn of blue shirt’s touch. Setting my book down, I winced. Reality and imagination get blurred sometimes.
“Yes please.” I said. “I’d like some more green tea.”
