Infinity

Chapter One

This day I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out. I didn't have time to pack a bag or anything but on my way to the door I got a hold of my phone and jacket. I closed the door behind me and walked as fast as I could in my boots. It was raining again despite what the weather forecast had said. I pulled on my jacket which made me warmer instantly. It was my one and only jacket, a gift from my mother, and I never went anywhere without it. I made my way up my street and stayed as far away from the road as I could. The incoming traffic hit puddles on the edge of the road and soaked everyone in a few metres radius. My pace quickened as the rain got colder and a little sharper. When I finally made it to that familiar light that was somehow warm to me I felt at home. The wide windows of the cafe spilled light across the street, a warm glow through the sheets of rain cutting through the breeze. I pulled my jacket a little tighter and pulled open the door, sighing at the warmth. It wasn't busy at this time of night and I was practically the only one there. I walked up to the counter and stared at the old fashioned blackboard-type wall with the coffees written on it. It was pointless, I always got the same. I ordered my coffee and sunk into my chair in the corner. I pulled the paperback out of my jacket pocket and opened it to the first page. I've never finished my book because my coffee always gets to me before I get to the last few chapters. I feel like everything is cut short like that. I was waiting for the one day when the coffee machine would be broken, or they'd be out of hazelnuts or milk or something. And maybe that day I would finally finish my book. But I don't want to know how it ends yet. I want to be given the chance to live before I get to the end of my story. And so I started reading even though I knew every word. I read for a while before I was - rudely - interrupted. A guy had sat down uncomfortably close to me on the couch, talking in my ear. I had to interrupt him.
"Do I know you?" I asked quizzically. He looked surprised, like he hadn't even noticed I was there.
"Ah, no. You don't know me. But I don't think people should be held back by talking to only people they know. All our friends were strangers once weren't they? If we don't talk to strangers there is no communication. Strangers become friends."
He had a certain arrogance. He seemed to think that was the smartest thing ever said.
"You are forgetting one key factor, my friend." I stood up as the woman behind the counter reached over the couch and handed me my coffee. "In general, strangers may become friends. And I see your point. You are forgetting that sometimes a girl will be sitting, waiting for her coffee, and meet a stranger who she doesn't like. They most likely won't become friends."
He smiled. I had just proved him wrong and he smiled as if he was proud of me.
"If this person is you..." He raised an eyebrow at me and I couldn't help smiling a little. "You may not like me now but I will win you over." He looked down at his watch and picked up his coffee. "Now, every time I come in here I see this girl. She sits in this very couch, reading this very same book. Always. And I'm thinking, every time, wouldn't she get sick of it? But it never occurred to me whether you even know how it ends. I always leave before you get through the first few pages. In fact, I'm just leaving now and although you are probably leaving to get away from me I feel obliged to walk you home. Or at least out the door. And we can discuss this book of yours."
I didn't feel like walking home, I felt like walking to the edge of the earth in the rain, without the sun ever coming up.
"I'll take you up on that offer. Although I was leaving to get away for  you", I teased, "I could use the company."
And so he walked me out the door, making me hold the door for him. He said something about it being a point of sexism that men always had to hold the door for women.
And when he asked me if I wanted to get away, I guess I didn't know what to say. Because more than anything that's what I wanted. And when he offered to let me drive my car - another point of sexism about men always driving - I took the opportunity. I didn't hold back in the directions department, though. He basically taught me how to drive as we made our way up the hill. It was dark by the time we finally found our way. The view was beautiful. The word didn't exactly match the place, but I wasn't a walking dictionary.
And so we sat on the cool ground and we waited, maybe for something magical to happen.