"No way, it's her."
"What? Who?"
"Her ! Over there!"
As you stood by the café window waiting on your coffee order, the shrill, raised voices of two, stereotypical, blonde, makeup-perfect white girls had caught your attention. They were looking at you as if you were a smudged mirror, drawn to their reflection and yet put off by the smears at the same time. You felt a hot flush creeping into your cheeks as they both continued to stare. Now you wished you had ignored them.
Too late.
The first girl suddenly stood, high heels clicking on the polished wood floor of the café as she advanced decidedly toward you. You glanced down at the display of cheep coffee mugs on wooden shelving, pretending to take an interest, hoping she would change her mind. You should have known better, for no sooner had you read Dis Coffee Mine! in bold letters across a chipped porcelain mug, there was a sharp, double-tap on your shoulder. You turned reluctantly, feeling as though you were an app she had just clicked open on her phone, and tried not to squirm as she scrutinized you with a freshly-coated sheen of pursed lips, trying to decide whether you were worth the purchase.
"You," she said.
You shifted your weight to the other foot (unable to help yourself), trying to figure out how to respond to her one-word comment.
"You're Will's girlfriend," she said in slight annoyance, as if she had expected you to say it.
"Uh-m, yeah?" you managed, forcing yourself to remain still under the intensity of her searching, blue eyes. Her friend, noticeably shorter, had joined her now. You quickly added, "You know Will?"
If a scoff and a laugh had a baby, that was the noise that burst out of the girl's mouth. She turned to her friend and they exchanged a brief glance of disbelief and pity before turning their gaze back to you.
"Know William Jack Poulter?" asked the first girl, as if his name were chocolate melting in her mouth. "What are you? Crazy?"
Her accusing stare suggested she thought as much. You looked toward the unhurried baristas, silently willing them to magically *poof* your drinks into existence so that you could get out from behind the magnifying glass these two models trapped you under.
"Chelsea's like, his most hugest fan," said the shorter girl dramatically, now nodding as if she had just revealed the secret of a lifetime. "She's leader of the William Jack Poulter Fanclub on Fanbiz."
They were both nodding now, as if expecting you to say something. Although, what that was exactly, you weren't sure.
"Wow," you finally forced out, if only to break the awkwardness. "That's cool..."
"I never expected him to end up with you."
In retrospect, the girl, Chelsea's, bluntness really shouldn't have been surprising all things considered, but it was so unexpected that all you could do was stare back, stunned.
"I can't believe that you two are still together!" she said in unconcealed exasperation; you had almost expected her to attach an 'it's not fair' to the end of that sentence.
"It...it really hasn't been that long--" you began, but she quickly cut you off.
"Five-hundred and twenty-nine days, three months, and--" she whipped out her bedazzled phone, swiping the screen. "--seven hours."
You blinked.
"Roughly. More or less," Chelsea added, sliding the phone into the back pocket of her skinny jeans.
