Clouds (Ian Casselman One Shot)

The rush of cold air that came as someone opened the door drew me out of my daze. I looked toward the stranger that had just entered the local Starbucks, noting with interest his mass of uncontrollable curly hair. After closing his dripping umbrella, he came to stand at the end of the line. He was three people behind me, making it hard to get a good look at him without being caught staring. The line moved then, and I approached the counter to place my order.

"Good morning, what can I get for you today?" asked the cheerful girl at the register.

"Can I get a grande Chai Tea latte and an oatmeal cookie please?" I began searching through my purse for my wallet while the girl grabbed the cookie from the display case.

"Alright, will that be all for you today?" she inquired after scribbling my name on a cup.

"Yeah, thanks," I replied as I handed her the appropriate number of bills. She smiled as she handed me my change and a bag with my cookie in it. Turning away, I slipped the change into the tip jar at the edge of the counter. I wandered over to the coffee station and grabbed a few napkins before casting a quick glance around. There were only a few open seats at the bar-like tables at the front of the coffee shop. I quickly took one of the open chairs as I waited for my drink. It had grown rather warm in the Starbucks since no other people had come in. Without the cold drafts coming from the door, the shop was almost uncomfortably warm. I took off my jacket, scarf, and beret and hung them off the back of my chair. After shaking out my damp hair, I began to relax into my seat.

"Grande Chai Tea latte for April?" called the young man at the drink counter. I walked over and collected my drink while mumbling my thanks, which he returned with a quick smile.

Just as I returned to my seat and had taken my first sip, the man with the curly hair sat down right next to me. Somewhat startled, I choked slightly on my drink, sending me into a bit of a coughing spasm.

"Are you ok?" the man asked, gently touching my shoulder. Regaining my composure, I smiled at him, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Yeah, I was just caught off guard when you sat down. Sorry about that," I replied as I turned back to my drink.

"I’m Ian by the way," he said, offering his hand to shake.

"April. Nice to meet you." His hand was so warm. It felt wonderful against my freezing fingers. Slightly disturbed by this thought about a man I had just met, I pulled my hand back quickly.

"Trust me, the pleasure is all mine," he smiled at me, seeming either not to notice or not to care how quickly I had taken my hand back. His smile was wonderful, causing his eyes to light up in the most attractive way. It was because of his friendly smile that I felt compelled to continue talking to him.

"So how are you on this gloomy and rainy day?" I asked, cautiously taking another sip of my drink. The warmth of it rushed through me, reaching all the way to my toes.

"I’m pretty good. On my way to practice. What about yourself?" he responded before sipping at his drink as well.

"I am good thank you. What kind of practice are you going to?" I asked, hoping he wouldn’t think I was prying. I often was overly friendly with strangers without realizing it sometimes came off as weird.

"I’m going over to practice with the guys in our band," he answered. I could hear the passion in his voice but also noted the mostly casual tone of his answer, making it clear he wasn’t just showing off.

"Oh, how cool. What instrument do you play?" I asked breaking off a piece of my cookie and attempting to take a dainty bite. I was suddenly nervous and needed something to do with my hands.