Ten

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[Jordan]

It's 7:25 when I reach Dockside Bistro 21, snugly tucked away at the edge of the harbor. I take a seat under the umbrella at the table where Mel and I always sit. I'm surprised that, on a Friday evening, our table isn't already taken. In fact, all of the tables outside the restaurant are empty. A bit odd...

Suddenly, a splash of rain collecting on the umbrella slips off and tags me right on the neck, sending a chill down my spine as it slides icy-cold down my back.

Oh, duh. It's raining. Everyone else is probably smarter than me and sitting somewhere dry and inside. I feel silly now for inviting Andy to meet me here. I should have picked someplace else, or at least sat at one of the tables inside. Oh well. Now that I'm sitting down I don't feel like moving. The rain isn't all that bad anyway—it's just a drizzle.

I play with a tiny puddle of water that has collected on the glass table, using my finger to write the letter "J" with it over and over again. Each time I stretch the droplet of rain into the curved shape, the surface tension of the water slowly pulls it back into a circle. I'd probably try to write out my whole name, but there is only enough water on the table to make the first letter.

I'm drawing the "J" for the fourth time when the waitress finally comes over. "Can I get you anything?" she asks me.

"Oh, I'm just waiting for someone," I tell her.

"Sure, I'll come back and check on you in a bit."

I continue to wait at the table alone, bored of playing with rain and starting to get chilled. I huddle myself up in my jacket and wonder why in the world I picked this spot.

It's 7:40. What if Andy has decided to stand me up?

I decide I'll wait until 8 before I leave. He might be running late, and I really want to talk to him, not only because I want to figure out why I recognize him, but also because I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that I am going to be spending the next week alone if I don't somehow make friends. My encounter with him earlier today was the closest I've gotten.

At 7:45, Andy finally shows up. He looks out of place standing in front of the restaurant by himself on the promenade out in the rain. Usually there are tons of people walking up and down the strip by the harbor, but tonight, it's empty.

I wave at him, and he immediately spots me and takes the seat across from me—Mel's spot. He puts his hood down once he is under the umbrella. I'm not sure why, but I get an odd feeling that he has just been wandering around the streets since I bumped into him. Maybe it's because his clothes look absolutely soaked.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he says to me.

Again with the apologizing.

"I was just out for a walk and lost track of time," he continues.

"Oh, no worries, I was beginning to think you might have stood me up," I joke.

He smiles at me awkwardly.

"Have you ever been here before?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I've only walked past it."

"Oh," I say. "The food is pretty good. There isn't a large beer selection, but they have some good options. I don't know if you've eaten yet."

"Not yet."

"Me neither," I say.

The waitress comes back to the table and takes our drink orders. I order my usual beer, and Andy orders the same.

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