THEY MET IN A FAR TOO CLICHED PLACE.
All that Gayathri had wanted on that cold, snowy morning was a cup of hot coffee, mixed in with the right amount of sweetener and creamer, and of course, the perfect flavor. She craved for the bitter taste to enter her mouth and travel down her esophagus, and let her thoughts wallow in the mud for the littlest bit.
Gayathri was not a regular of the resident town's only coffee shop. She had merely been passing through the town when the snow had begun to roll in heavily, and she was forced to make alternate plans out of the blue (or white, she supposed she should call it). She was the last person to check into the almost deserted motel on the other side of town before the snowstorm had twisted its way into a full swing blizzard. She had wished on a thousand stars that the blizzard would pass by soon enough, but her thoughts went unanswered.
It had been a week since Gayathri had arrived into the motel, and the amount of money she had been carrying was drying up quickly. Today was the first day of no snow pelting down from the sky, however, crisp little snowflakes danced its way down from the heavens. A smile tugged at the young girl's lips, and she allowed herself to stick out her tongue to catch a snowflake or two.
A beautiful snowflake settled onto her tongue almost instantaneously, and Gayathri almost shrieked with delight mixed in with fear. She thought for the tiniest second that her tongue was on fire, but that was not the case; she had only felt the coldness of the tiny flake. Her warm tongue melted the snowflake, and her tongue savored the cold water that laid on top of her tongue like a thin layer. Giggling in delight, she stuck out her tongue again, loving the bliss feeling of the snowflake to sit on her tongue. Another one came, and went just as fast as it had came.
Then a thought entered Gayathri's mind, one that had nagged her endlessly for all the days she had spent in the motel, cooped up in her tiny room. Grinning deviously, she jumped into the silver Camry, and left the motel before the snowflake on her tongue had melted and washed away in her minty mouth.
Gayathri pulled up into the small coffee shop's parking lot fifteen minutes later. The roads were all covered in snow, but the snowplow had just plowed through the main road leading up to the shop, which delighted Gayathri. She had no intention of staying on the roads more than she needed to. She went inside, her insides are hyped up, begging for the bitter taste of coffee and the sweet taste of the muffins.
The coffee shop, which was named Leila's Coffee Shop (creative right?) after the elderly lady who had owned the business since her grandparents bought the area in the midst of the Great Depression. Today, it was lacking customers, which was understandable. The streets were not entirely cleaned out of the three feet of snow that the blizzard had worked up. Only Gayathri and a teenage looking boy occupied the place.
Gayathri strolled right on up to the counter, hopping onto of the many stools that sat on one side of the counter. On the other side was a young boy who wore a massive smile on his face. Gayathri could not resist the growing smile on her face.
"Hello ma'am, what would you like today?" A woman appeared from behind the double doors that led to the kitchen area. Gayathri could not help but to notice the little notepad that she held firmly in her hand.
"May I have a cup of french vanilla coffee and a blueberry muffin on the side please?" Gayathri inquired politely. The woman nodded, scribbling her order down on the small lined piece of paper. Then she disappeared behind the double doors, most likely going to fetch the muffin or something along those lines.
"Hi." The mysterious little boy waved timidly, his tiny hand moving side to side. It was cute for a little boy to wave at her, and she smiled at the mere gesture. "My name is Timothy," he introduced himself. Timothy could not pronounced some of her letters correctly, but Gayathri appreciated the attempt.
"Hello, Timothy," she kindly said. "My name is Thri, like the number three. How old are you, young man?"
Timothy looked at Gayathri with wide eyes, and Gayathri saw the blue radiating off of them. He held up his left hand. "I am six!" he exclaimed. "And I'm a big boy!"
"Sweetie, you are only holding up five fingers," Gayathri corrected. "But I am sure that you are a big boy."
Timothy glanced down at his fingers, and held up his left hand and his thumb. He smiled sheepishly. "Oops. But I can count!"
Gayathri leaned forward and put her hands on the counter. "Can you recite them to me?" she asked. It was not meant to be a dare or a challenge, but she had asked out of curiosity.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," Timothy recited proudly. Gayathri smiled, just as the woman reappeared.
The woman was holding a cup of steaming hot coffee on one hand and a wild blueberry muffin on a plate in the other hand. She placed it gently on the counter, right in front of Gayathri, along with a bill. Gayathri adjusted her hispter like glasses and scanned through the paper, and ruffled through her wallet. She handed the woman a ten dollar bill.
"Keep the change," Gayathri waved off when the woman tried to give Gayathri her change. The woman was startled at this; no one had ever done this, but she placed the change back into the cash register. She gave Gayathri a grateful smile. This simple action warmed Gayathri's heart; this was what she lived for - to see smiles on faces that needed it.
In simpler words, Gayathri liked to help the poor and the needy.
The woman, and Timothy, much to her dismay, disappeared behind the double doors, and Gayathri was left alone to enjoy her breakfast. However, she was rudely interrupted by the teenage boy that she had seen earlier in the coffee shop before she could even take a bite into the muffin.
"Hello." Mystery Guy had an deep, attractive voice, one of the characteristics that was a major turn on for Gayathri.
"Hi," she shyly responded to the stranger.
"My name's Harry," he introduced, "and you're Thri, like the number?"
"Eavesdropping into my conversation with Timothy, haven't you?" Gayathri lightly teased the boy. Harry could not suppress the smile on his face with that accusation.
"Yeah okay, maybe I was. May I kindly point out that you did not tell Timothy your age?" Harry pointed out, and Gayathri's smile faltered.
"He couldn't stay out here long enough to hear it," she merely replied. "I assume you want to know, don't you, Mr. Harry the stalker?"
"It's just Harry," he said, "and yes, I do."
"Okay then, Just Harry. I am sixteen, going on seventeen in five months. How old are you?"
"Aren't you a stalker too?" Harry inquired. "And I am eighteen, going on nineteen. Next week, to be precise," he added.
"Happy early birthday to you then!" Gayathri cheered for the boy. She would not normally do this, but Harry had been warming up to her. Maybe he could be a friend, she thought, yes, a friend.
"Thank you." Harry bowed. Gayathri took this opportunity to smack Harry upside the head.
"Bit cocky, aren't you?" Gayathri teased, laughter filling the empty silence that followed.
"Yeah, whatever." Harry's face flushed red from embarrassed. "Are you new to town or something? I have never seen you 'round these parts." He seemed intrigued by me.
"No, I'm just visiting." I explained the situation, what with the snowstorm turned blizzard and me just passing by. Harry listened to every word, nodding in all the right places. He seemed genuinely concerned.
"Ah," Harry said. "Well, Thri, I would hope that you could stay a little bit longer." His cheeks were tinted a dark shade of pink when he asked me this. He tried very hard to disguise his obvious infatuation for me. I had to admit, it was very cute. Harry was cute, what with his flushed cheeks and his warm smile towards me.
Wait, am I saying that I like Harry? What is wrong with me?
And before I could take the words right out of my mouth, my tongue twisted and untwisted its knots and told Harry, "I would be delighted to stay a little longer."
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For Thri, because I didn't send my present in on time (and the people didn't check the e-mail too). Happy belated Christmas, hun.
