Finding Lost Dog Tags

Chapter 1 (Teaser)

The coffee heated my hands, pulling me away from the fears I had about tonight. I could do this, and I will do this. My brother was all I had left, and it was time to take responsibility.

The door opened and the cold air from winter filled the room, disrupting my warm hands on my coffee. Was that a sign that I shouldn't do this? The warmth no longer comforted me but made me internally nervous.

Don't overthink it Alice; I couldn't become a coward now. Just breathe and everything will be all right. A quote came to mind, and gave me peace.

"Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor." I mumble this under my breath while taking a sip of my now cold coffee.

"Whose quote is that?" I look up and see the reason the door opened. He was older than me, possibly 20, and was very handsome. He wore a sandy brown shirt that matched his hair-color and his black jeans sat loosely around his hips. A dog tag hung around his neck and gleamed when the sun from outside hit it just right. His green eyes were the most prominent of his features, like the finishing touch on an ongoing masterpiece. If God was the artist, he certainly did a very good job on this one. Cliché, I know. I giggled at my childish thoughts and looked up again.

Wait, he asked me a question didn't he?

"A monk. I read his book because their religious thought process has always interested me." I looked back down hoping that he would take my answer and leave. Instead, the chair across from me pulled out at a painstakingly slow pace, and the man took a seat.

"Tell me more about this monk." His eyes filled with interest, which confused me profusely. It was quite refreshing to have an intellectual conversation without reason.

"Not much to say, really. His name was Thích Nhất Hạnh. His quotes seem to calm me down."

"In order to calm down, you would need to be anxious about something. Are you?" His voice was soothing and sounded genuinely concerned. He was a stranger, however, and shouldn't involve himself in other's problems. Not to mention, his bluntness was rude.

"What makes you think I would tell a stranger my problems?" I put down my coffee and placed a five-dollar bill on the table. After getting ready to leave, I glanced up at the man who seemed to be pondering my question.

After a few seconds of thinking, his eyes lit up, and he answerd. "A boy walks up to a girl after seeing her cry. He asks her what's wrong and she pours out her heart to him, telling him all of her problems, fears, and insecurities. She also shared her dreams and aspirations. Then she says, 'Sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that?' The boy looks at her and responds, 'Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are.'" After telling his story, the man reached out his hand and continued speaking, "My name is Nate."

"Alice." I said nervously while grasping his hand in my own. But then with curiosity I ask, "What happened to them after that?"

Nate smiled and, for some unknown reason, it made my heart flutter. "They fell in love." He responded.

"That's impossible. They only just met."

"That's correct but his first impression of her was only her. It was destined for them to love each other." His eyes stared intently into my own, and I found myself loosing my breath.

I stood up and smiled gently at Nate. "I have to go."

"Of course. Can I walk you to your car or wherever you need to go?" As tempting as that sounded, I didn't want to involve him in my problems. I couldn't be that girl who fell in love with that boy. There was no time for that.

"No thank you. I have to do this on my own."

"Part of your hidden secret, Ali?" He smiled at me but disappointment filled his features.

"Yes, actually it is. And did you just call me Ali?" I send him an accusing, playful look.

He laughs and embarrassingly says, "Don't you ever give strangers you just met in a café a nickname?"

"Can't say I have."

"Well it's in the rulebook so check it out. Now, go and complete your secretive mission." He hands me his coffee and exits the café. I watch him leave and then glance at the coffee in my hands. Why did he leave me his coffee? I threw it away in the closest trashcan.

Walking out of the café felt better than walking in. I felt lighter and more confident in my decision.

The coldness didn't even bother me as I made my way down to the courthouse.

Authors Note: I know it's short... They will get longer as the story continues. I just want to see if people are interested. Let me know:)