Weeping Willow

Chapter Eight.

                 

Trent's POV.

"Are you sure you told her the right date?" Carmen asks me for the third time in the last twenty minutes. I pour milk into the mug in my hands and use my finger to stir it through my iced coffee.

Carmen watches me, nose crinkled up in disgust. "Ew."

I untie my apron and walk past her. "I'm not serving it to the customers, get off my back," I give her a smile and toss my apron behind the counter. I took the night off so I could sit front and center and watch her perform. I check my phone again. Maybe I did tell her the wrong time? I'm not exactly known for being the most organized guy around.

It's thirty minutes past the time she was supposed to be here and I'm getting a little anxious. Did she change her mind? Is she not ready? I think back to our last conversation and the light in her eyes when she spoke of her words. She's talented, insanely talented, but maybe she got cold feet? I didn't take her as the time to pull a no-show, and I will feel pretty stupid if, at the end of the night, I have to carry out the massive drawing I made for her.

I have so many things to tell her. I want to tell her that she's inspiring and talented and beautiful. I want to thank her for being in my head when I sat my uncle down and told him that I dream of being an illustrator, not a coffee shop owner. If she shows up, that's the first thing I'll do. I'll tell her that she's too cool and way too pretty for me, but I want to take her out. I wanted to take her out the moment I saw her, before that even. Jesse told me about Crane's quiet friend and I couldn't wait to meet her. Chaucer went way above my expectations and I should have asked her out the first time I met her. I wanted to kick myself when she left that night, but when I found her notebook I was through the roof.

Carmen flips the channels on the small TV hanging on the wall and I look away when the news channel shows a car accident. That massive Willow on the highway is standing steady, with smashed shapes of metal that once was a car. Sports and national news flicker across the TV and I check my phone again and walk toward the stage. The crowd is small, but impressive for a first timer. Where is she?

 

Disclosure:

 

I worked with AT&T on their "It   can Wait" campaign. This campaign is so important and I'm honored to   share this story with you. It happened to Chaucer, it can happen to you. No   email is ever, ever worth it.