What Happens Now?

Chapter 1 : The Encounter

"Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship" - Rick. (Casablanca 1942)

Megan POV

It was 4 o'clock in the afternoon. I sat at the mahogany leather couch at the back of the Starbucks, which was right across my apartment ; sipping my usual caramel latte, reading a vintage old leatherbound novel that I rented from the quirky bookstore nearby.

Really, this was my daily routine -- right after school ends, I'd spend most of my free time either here or at that bookstore at the corner of the street. I relished comfort of relaxing on good quality leather sofa, surrounded by the smell of roasted coffee, with a book in hand which smelt like musty heaven. Even the texture of the old pages could already put a smile on my face. You can say I'm a bit old fashioned, or maybe just an obsessive bookworm.

I was prepared to continue living my boring day -- or what I thought would be uneventful.

As I sat here reading Count of Monte Cristo, imagining all the characters in detail, and loving the caramel wafting from my steaming mug ; I was distracted with the sound of the door opening.

Looking up, I saw a tall boy, 18 probably, with dishevelled chestnut hair, striding in. I didn't think much of it, and I was about to go back to being absorbed with my book, but something about him caught my eye. I snuck a second glance at him, and decided to observe him from a far just to satisfy my curiousity. I'm ashamed to say that people-observing was also one of my favourite past-times. I couldn't help it, observing passerbys were as entertaining as it was disturbing, all at the same time.

He had his hands tucked in his jean pocket, while the other readjusted the pair of old-fashioned semi-rimless clubmen glasses on the bridge of his straight nose. He raked his fingers through his hair as he walked in, making a slight quiff.

Although he was wearing glasses, you could obviously see he had the features of a model -- the handsome boyish face, the gait of a cat, his smooth jawline and prominent cheekbones, even the messy out-of-bed hair. His v-neck navy blue t-shirt clung to his body, showing off his well-defined lean torso. The muscles on his arm flexed as he walked.

I watched as he approached the counter coolly, ordering a drink. I scolded myself for staring too much, but could you blame me? An Adonis just walked into Starbucks.

I looked away and took a sip of my caramel latte, but not without sneaking an innocent peek again at him.

"Oh crap, he's looking at me. Look away Megan, look away! What page are you on right now? What? Where did the foam on my latte go?" I muttered incoherently to myself, embarassed at being caught. When I looked back again, he had an amused grin on his face. He smoothly pointed at me and started tapping at his upper lip. I was puzzled at his gesture.

Was there something wrong with his face, is that why? Or...is it mine?!  I quickly checked my reflection on mirror back of my iPhone cover.  

Oh crap, I have foam on my upper lip! I have a milk-stache! Way to impress the men, Megan. Killing boners since 1996.

I widened my eyes at the horrifying sight, cursing profusedly under my breath. I nervously grinned and dabbed my upper lip in an embarassing manner, fully aware of his stare. He still held his gaze on me -- except when he turned to the counter, leaning over to collect his drink.

I glanced at the barista who shamelessly batted her eyelashes at him, practially swooning when he gave a polite smile as he walked away. Ah girls.

He walked -- wait...wait a minute. Where's he going? I frantically glanced around me, my heart hammering. I was the only one sitting at the huge leather sofa, and there wasn't anyone around me, except maybe at the table over at the other end of the shop. A dawn of realization came upon me. Oh, crap, is he walking my way?