Who Do You Love?

-Chapter 1-

As I switched off my ignition I peaked at my car's clock. 8:03. Just a few minutes late.

My heart was pounding, and despite the chill of the spring air, my palms were sweating.

This wasn't me. I didn't sneak out late at night to meet random strangers.

Correction. This wasn't the old me. But that person had died a long time ago.

I barely even remember who that person was.

I knew I needed to get out of the car. I knew he was waiting for me inside, but it was like I couldn't move.

Thoughts rushed through my head. What if he was a total jerk? What if he was ugly? What if he tried something on me, or kidnapped me, or worse?

To buy some time, I pulled down the car mirror and checked my reflection. Grey blue eyes stared back at me, taunting me, telling me I was too much of a coward to go through with this.

Nervously, I brushed my long brown hair back, and let it fall in loose curls to frame my face.

I slammed the mirror up and opened the door. There was no way I was going to back out now. Not after I had come this far.

I pulled my wool cardigan around me as the full force of the cold enveloped me. A slight breeze brushed at my face as I rushed inside the coffee shop.

I was grateful for the warmth that immediately surrounded me as I stepped inside. The place was much more crowded than I expected it would be for a Thursday night.

Muted conversations flowed around me as I glanced from table to table, trying to find him.

Panic started to creep in. What if he had decided to ditch? What if he wasn't who he said he was? What if he was staring at me right now and laughing?

Then finally, I saw him.

He was across the room in a corner by a group of empty metal tables and chairs.

I studied him before going over, certain he hadn't seen me yet as he was staring down at his phone.

His black hair was slicked back in a style I could only describe as the basic hipster look.

He had on a grey hooded sweatshirt and a pair of skinny jeans.

His long legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, revealing a pair of black and red Air Jordans.

He'll do, I thought to myself.

I plastered, what I thought, was a coy smile on my face, and strode across the coffee shape.

When I was just a few feet away, he glanced up.

What the hell was I doing? What if he didn't like me? Would this plan even work?

He smiled, stood up, and held out a tanned hand. He gripped mine and I began to realize just how tall he was in real life. He towered over me, and a little part of me began to worry.

"Hey," he said. "You're Kenna right?" His eyes were dark, powerful, but I also felt like I could see a glimmer or kindness. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Yeah, which would make you Jayce I believe." I stammered over my words and they poured out of me too quickly, giving away any cool demeanor

We sat down and I immediately began to think of ways to end the awkward silence, but Jayce beat me to it.

"It's really good to finally meet you in person," he said. "Especially after all those late night conversations we've been having on Tinder."

"Yeah," I gushed, relieved to have something to go off of, "I was beginning to worry that I was being catfished or something! I'm so glad you're not some creepy old guy!"