Lutfanessa Jana has never belonged. Or at least that's what she tells herself.
Brooding, snarky and obsessive to a fault; sometimes, Lutfanessa knows nothing better than to see everything with a very critical eye. A characteristic feature which she...
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AFTER THE WEEK PASSES BY with me still getting used to the house and catching up with all the studies I missed during packing, moving, and unpacking — the weekend couldn't come any sooner.
I kickstart the sweet Sunday morning with a little jog around the little town, and I am careful to link my phone to Lola's so that she can come and pick me up if I end up getting lost. The town is picturesque, like something out of a coastal town stamp photograph— with neat & clean little streets, laughing faces who seem to know each other, and vibrantly painted houses and shops. It also has its own quaint charming features like the geranium painted surfboard shop I pass by on the jog and the grinning boy I pass by at the blue painted ice cream shop who beams at me like I am a sliver of sunlight that has escaped and illuminated the dark. A bunch of hollering fifteen year old boys rush by me on their skateboards as I finally slow down and peer gratefully at the cozy cafe standing before me, titled The Coffee Attic. I hesitate a bit before entering, and when I pull the door open, a little bell hanging over, tinkles very gracefully, announcing my arrival.
The cafe is cozy, done largely in hues of beige and blues and the occasional splashes of sienna. The place is hugely bustling with teenagers and young adults who are hoarding the tables in the front, laughing and chatting with their friends. I feel a stab of jealousy at the fact that I have no friends to enjoy a nice cup of tea with. I quietly make my way towards the counter, where a bunch of people are standing in a queue, waiting for their turn. I assess the variety of breads and pastries on show and one of them catches my eye, the Havenbrook special. The town special.
After ordering a Havenbrook special and collecting my order, I find my way towards the back corners of the cafe, which are comparatively empty, and slide into the booth tucked into the right corner alongside the fake potted plant. The seats are wrapped in worn-out brown leather, and the round table has a faded white tabletop, random words scribbled on it. I grab a tissue, dab at my face to get rid of the sweat, and then pick up my dessert, which seems to be a fusion of a flakey pastry and a small pie. I take a tentative bite, and then almost instantly groan out in admiration as the tangy taste of pineapple and then the sweet mango filling flavors burst in my mouth. I quickly gobble down the dessert, and order a bunch of havenbrook specials and other pastries and get them packed. Pleased with the quality of the pastries, I order a piece of coconut cake and a strawberry lemon blondie for myself.
I am almost done with my slice of coconut cake and done reading the article about the new discovery in the rock shelters of Bhimbetka when someone interrupts me, rapping their knuckles against the table. I look up in irritation, about to give a mouthful to the rude person — but the huge grin on the face of the tall, blond guy standing in front of me confuses me and catches me off guard.
His smile widens.
"Hello," He all but chirps, and I offer him an odd stare and then quickly observe the three guys standing behind him, all in similar outfits — tank tops and jeans — and I frown a little. What can they possibly want from me? Should I be assertive? Or shy?
