Jim was determined, today he would nerve himself and be bold, no matter what might happen.
For two weeks now, almost like clock work, a young brunette and her red-headed friend came in to the same Starbucks he did for lunch. They would sit so quietly, reading he thought, possibly studying for class. He truly desired to meet the girl, if only to find out her name. For the last week he could not get her off his mind, even his dreams seemed haunted by the warmth in her eyes.
He was shy by nature; an only child, very few friends, and not much interest in anything but reading. But this day he was driven to step out of his comfort zone and speak up-- even if it killed him to do so.
12:34PM... Right on time, the two girls entered, smiling as they passed his place near the door. Jim's stomach tightened as he watched them at the counter, but he refused to let his fear have its way. He took a deep breath as the waitress spoke, a little too loud, he though.
"Same as before, girls?" They nodded in reply, paid for their drinks and moved to the same spot as always-- the noisy table right by the cappuccino machine.
"How can they study with that racket?" Jim thought, "Oh well, to each their own, I guess."
Another moment passed as he calmed his ragged nerves and waited for them to settle. This is it, Jim stood and slowly crossed the room. As the shorter, dark-haired girl looked up and a smile crossed her face, Jim's resolve almost faltered, but he shyly nodded in her direction as he stepped up to their table.
"Hello," he said in as gallant a voice as he could, and gave them a slight wave of his hand. "I have seen you come in every day and wanted to introduce myself."
The girl of his dreams smiled in return, softly brushing a stay curl from her face, deep brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight flooding through the window. Her friend quickly opened a book in front of her, pretending not to over-hear.
"I was wondering," Jim stammered mildly, his words nearly a whisper. "They are having a new exhibit at the campus art museum. If you aren't doing anything later, maybe we could. . ."
Brunette strands rolled from her shoulders as the girl shrugged a non-committed reply, though her smile seemed to brighten. With growing embarrassment, Jim waved it off sheepishly and placed a card on their table.
"Well. . . if you. . . change your mind," he mumbled as he slowly backed away. "My name's Jim. . . Text me."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Rachel's long dark curls fell across her open book as she turned to her friend, her hands blurred before her in sign language. "I couldn't read his lips to see what he wanted, but he sure was cute."
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