The Epic Romance of the Sassy, Dorky... Badass Superspies.

Day Five

August 21st, 2019

8/21/14

7:45 pm

It's raining outside. The rain hits my windowpane, distorting the image outside, until it's an impressionist painting of desolation. I flop down on my bed with a sigh. The power's out from the storm. No TV. I can't even text Ezekiel because my phone's out of power and I can't charge it.

I try to go to sleep, but I'm not tired.

Eventually I decide to go to the Starbucks attached to my apartment.

I grab a pair of jeans from my closet, spread out loosely on the carpet.

They're attached to a beige piece of fabric. It falls to the floor in front of my feet. I drop the jeans on my bed and pick it up.

It's wrinkly. It's been there for a year.

I spread it out in front of my face.

I sigh.

It's been 6 years and it's a cute dress.

What the hell?

I slip of my pajama pants and pull it up over my tank top. The sleeves conceal the top's straps, but the black cotton shows through on my chest. I hadn't realized how low the neckline was.

Although, compared to what some movie stars wear, it was practically at my neck.

I slip the tank top off from underneath, and zip up the back.

I try and smooth out the wrinkles

It could have easily been too tight or too baggy, but it isn't. Just like my first dress, it's perfect. Melody knows me well.

I check in the back for a tag, but there isn't one.

No way.

Melody made this dress?

Melody works at the Krahe bakery with Noah in Zermatt, but she's a seamstress in her free time. And a fashion designer.

And she's amazing at it.

I look in the mirror.

I've never worn anything like this.

And I wonder why.

I have to go into the coffee shop in this dress.

Normally the thought would've made me cringe, but suddenly I feel confident.

I grab my black leather jacket I'd bought a few years back... in my angsty teenage years.

I can't go around looking like a girly girl.

I step out the door, grab my purse, and walk to the elevator. I'm wearing red Converse with the dress. I don't have any dressy shoes.

When I reach the lobby, I hope my face isn't red. There's a lot of people there. Well, more like 3 or 4, but they're still people. I clench a fist. I'm not going to worry about this. I duck through the rain to go around the building to the Starbucks.

It's crowded. I get in line.

I order a latte.

I sit down.

And then I see him.

He shouldn't be here.

I think I spit coffee on my dress, and I try to get it off with a napkin... but it doesn't come out.

I stare at him. He's sitting two tables away, working on his laptop. Drinking coffee.

He doesn't even live near here.

I pick up the coffee, and slip into the booth across from me. He's still staring at his laptop, and without looking up, he says, "Nice outfit you've got on."

My cheeks go red. "What are you doing here?"

"I texted you to meet me here."

"My phone's dead," I explain. "I didn't reply, and yet you still came?"

"Yup," he says, finally closing the laptop and smiling at me. His hair is wet. He walked here?

"Why?" I laugh.

He shrugs. "I don't know."

"Well, it appears that we're on our second date then."

He smiles. "That's something to cross off our bucket lists."

"I don't have a bucket list," I say.

"That's a nice dress you've got on," he says, nodding in my direction. I suddenly feel aware of the neckline... it's low. It's too low.

"I didn't think it was your style," he laughs.

"It's not," I say. "It was just a birthday present."

He smiles. "I like it."

He has a coffee mustache.

"You got some... um, coffee..." I say, trying to stifle a laugh.

He licks it off and grins. "What, this? I hate coffee. This is hot chocolate."

He throws the cup in the trash and stands up, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"Bye, Nat."

"Nat?" I laugh. "No one's called me that before."

He shrugs, and leaves.