III. Jess
It was one chilly afternoon when I decided to stop by Starbucks. I hate this store. I used to love it though before it became a fad and chit-chat place of blind date lovers, scrawny people using free wi-fi and abnormally loud beings.
I ordered the usual hot cappuccino. The lady quickly placed the cup with ‘Jess’ on its tag. I grabbed it right away but awkwardly this stranger is grabbing my damn frigging cup.
Jess: Heeeey!
I stared at his eyes. They were grey. And it was smiling. And so is his red, nourished lips.
Jess’: This is one of the few things I am sure that is mine.
Confused I withdrew my hand and my fixated eyes on his face. It landed on the cup of exact same coffee with ‘Jess’ on it resting on the counter.
I feel my face flush red. The cashier giggled. I am so embarrassed.
Jess’: So Jess. I’m Jess too. Here’s your coffee and nice…
He stopped. (Meeting me? You call this nice meeting? I am so embarrassed if my rosy cheeks can’t send you the message.)
… feeling your soft shivering hands.
Then he smiled. And then sat on the available seat near the doors.
I grabbed my cup and quickly searched for an empty bunk. There was none and I feel so stupid for blankly staring at the customers. I have nowhere to go.
A tap on my back shocked me that I almost spilled my coffee.
Jess: Damn you.
Jess’: Sorry.
Jess: Oh you…
Jess’: You could share this table if you want.
He kinda pulled out the chair for me. He seemed nice and harmless. And I’m gay. So just in case he’s putting some moves on me, I could simply turn him off by showing my girlfriend’s picture on my cp’s wallpaper.
Jess: Sure.
