small talks

Chapter 1

   I  don't think I've ever told anyone about how much I love the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Like everyone has their own favorite type of smell or kind of smell. I guess it's the same thing with taste too. 

   I find it funny how the things we enjoy in life truely reflect from our personalities. It all came from the moment we stepped into the world and began our journey.  Then we start to understand what we want from what we like which leads us to where we'll go.

   My journey was't a happy one. Nor was it really sad either. I guess it's just how you interpret happiness or sadness. Strange thought isn't it. 

      It was just a couple summers ago when I met someone beyond interesting. It was rainy evening, mostly just college students at the cafe. I had my headphones in and my regular seat next to the window. With a copy of Breathing Lessons by Anne Taylor (one of my favorite novels I must say), I sipped my drink, eyes drinking every word on every page. 

   Suddenly I felt a cold rush of air and I glanced up to see who had come into the door. It was as though the air I once took in was gone in an instant. There she stood, in just a damp sweater and black jeans, her hair tousled from the rain outside and her eyes bright. 

   She had a back pack on, I assumed she was another student like me and the rest of those who seeked shelter in this cafe. She looked around and met my gaze. She glided over and sat down, smiling as though I was a friend she was looking for. 

   "Um...may I help you?" I asked. She blinked. Then she blinked again and again before she answered suddenly. 

   "Oh goodness I'm so sorry. I'm Danica but you can call me Dani," she said. She reached out my hand which I gave hesitantly. Usually I'm not the one to be approached to easily. "I just saw that this seat was empty and well, you looked kinda lonely."

   I couldn't help but scoff. Her eyes didn't waver so I coughed awkwardly. "Yeah uh, you can go ahead and sit there if you'd like."

   "What's your name by the way?" 

   "Terrance, and uh don't mind me but are you a student here?" I replied. I pointed to her backpack and she nodded. 

   "Yup, and I assume you are too?" she asked. She pulled a laptop and a few notebooks and pens from the said backpack. She began to set up her work space, all the while maintaining conversation. 

   "Yeah yeah. I'm uh...Creative Writing Major and it's my 3rd year," I said. She then whipped her head to me, her eyes narrowed. You couldn't really escape her eyes. They reminded me of eagles or hawks or something .

   "No way. I wouldn't have pegged you for a junior at all! I'm a freshman by the way," she nodded. She waggled a finger at me. "You seem so innocent and so naive. Seriously how old are you?"

   "23 years old. And I'll take it as a compliment."

   "Please do. Oh and I'm 19 and I'm a Media Studies Major."

   If I remember correctly, that was the end of the conversation of that day. We went on silently doing our own work. I finished the book and moved onto my homework. As Danica continued typing away furiously, she ordered 6 different cups of coffee, all different flavors or combinations. 

   She didn't try to make any more conversations which, to be honest with you, disappointed me. I just couldn't help but to be captivated by her nature, the way she just carried herself. 

   As the clock reached 8.30 PM, I began to back my belongings. I stood up and straightened my jacket. I looked outside the window, seeing that the city lights were flickering on. 

   "The rain."

   I turned and looked at Danica. "Excuse me?"

   "The rain. It stopped," she said quietly. 

  I turned and headed for the door. As soon as I stepped outside, I held out my hand and gazed up at the sky. 

  It did stop raining.