Between the Distance

s e v e n:

I'm back at the Java bean Hut Café. After the unlucky incident of sleeping in too late with Simon, and missing the second bus and by extension my English class, and bumping into the green haired girl with a cup full of too warm coffee named Theo I needed a little break.

A couple hours after class was over, I text one of my classmates asking if I missed anything big in class today and just as I assumed I had. Not just any assignment, but the final assignment. The very last one for the semester. It's not that surprising, the semester ends in four weeks, but the teacher didn't out right put what we had to do on the syllabus. It just said final project, due by the last class day. It was a "surprise" she called it.

Not only do I have four weeks until the end of the semester to complete and turn in our final assignment, but the assignment topic is vague. I mean I didn't expect the teacher to go into much details or for there to be a lot of details, after all it is a creative writing class, but forty pages of an original story and characters in four weeks is pushing it. Not to mention that I have other classes as well.

With the overwhelming amount of anxiety this class and pretty much every other class and really everything going on in my life right was giving me, I decided to go to the café to clear my mind. It's the only place that's close enough to my house that can put my mind at ease the same way my grandmother's house is mysteriously able to do. I would honestly have gone to my grandmother's but she lives five hours from me and I'd probably miss the rest of my classes as well.

I took the same booth that Sasha, Gemma, and I were at the other day. It's relatively quiet today and that helps me think a little bit.

A few tables ahead of me I notice a couple sharing a vanilla milkshake. They're holding hands and I can see the woman making funny eyes at her boyfriend or husband.

I still haven't come up with a topic or characters or a setting or even a theme for my paper, but that doesn't stop me from writing every little thing that pops into my mind. My paper is a mess, with words and thoughts about everything from feminism to three liner cheesy love poems to the special items being served on the menu today. The Dutch Chocolate cake sounds pretty good. Maybe I should order that.

Off to the left of my paper I scribble down messy line drawings. There's the top half of a bear sticking his hand in a honey jar and fish swimming in outer space among Pluto and Neptune. The next thing I've started drawing is a girl with black eyes and a pair of shades hanging from her white teeth.

Theo. My mind begins to wander with thoughts about her. I've only bumped into her once, and she spilt coffee all over me, but sometimes you meet someone for the first time and you can feel this connection. I don't know what type of connection, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel anything, besides the hot coffee all over my dress and in my shoes.

"Can I get you anything?" I hear a voice humming the theme to "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" over me. The voice is familiar, that southern accent that's so distinguishable. When I look up I'm greeted by Jenny's honey brown eyes and enticing smile. She's starring down at my paper, at something I've just drawn. I look back down at my paper and realize that's she staring down at my lousy attempt at a portrait of a girl. I quickly scribble over it, and place my English text book on top of my notebook.

"No that's alright, I just came here to write." I reply sheepishly. I turn back to my books expecting her to leave and take some other customers' orders, like the couple swooning a few tables in front of me, but she doesn't. The couple aren't sipping away at their milkshakes anymore. They're mouthing some coos and other indistinguishable noises at each other like babies and rubbing their noses together like little Eskimo kisses.