Moments of Impact H.S. A.U.

4.

I am well aware that I've most likely gotten desperate wanting to talk to Hugh. But I'm annoyed and frustrated because he hasn't replied to my message from two days ago. I know I should just let this one go. He is so not worth my time, but I can't help it. My mind keeps playing different scenarios to me over and over again and I keep wondering what it'll be like to have a boyfriend. So in order to know whether or not I'm completely out in the dark, I've posted a picture of my coffee on Instagram and connected it to Facebook. I sigh to myself. I've definitely gone desperate. But it doesn't take long before I get a notification on my phone letting me know that he is now following me on Instagram. That's supposed to mean something, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't have followed me would he? I'm definitely overthinking things, but what else can I do when work is a complete bore? There are absolutely no customers and Bonnie, my co-worker, is out back cleaning the dishes. So I'm just standing here pretending to wipe the counter while my thoughts are getting the best of me. It's not that I like Hugh. I mean I practically don't even know him. But I'm liking the idea of what could happen. It's like being in love with an idea of something great and not necessarily a person.

The doorbell rings and I notice a man walking up to me. "Hi, what can I help you with?" I ask putting on a smile.

"Uhm," he says smiling back. "What coffee would you recommend?" He asks, and I give him a confused look. Does he not know anything about coffee?

"That depends-" I chuckle. "-whether or not you prefer lots of milk, or a little. Or if you prefer your coffee black."

"Definitely with milk," he's quick to say, and I don't fail to notice how he seems to be staring at me for a bit too long. He even seems to be checking out my name tag a couple of times. He looks good though, I'll admit that. I like his curls and the way his dimples show when he is talking.

"Uhm, okay. You want a flat white? A cappuccino? A latte? A mocha perhaps?" I ask. I prefer my coffee black, so I'm not really the right person to give advice.

"Surprise me," he says, and I place a regular cappuccino for him. Why is he being like this?

"That'll be 6.99," I say, and he hands me a ten dollar note.

"Keep the change," he says.

"Thanks, would you like the receipt?" I ask. He shakes his head. "It's coming right up," I say, and he takes a seat taking his MacBook out of his bag.

Bonnie comes out of the storeroom with clean mugs and takes a look at the one customer who's here. "That's weird," she says placing the tray with cups on the counter, and I help her store them before I start making the man's coffee.

"What is?" I wonder looking in the direction of our customer because Bonnie can't seem to get her eyes away from him. Perhaps she knows him?

"He was here yesterday, but he didn't order anything."

"No?" I ask confused, and she shakes her head.

"No, he just kept looking at the board for a very long time as if contemplating what coffee he wanted and then he looked at me, flashed me a smile and left. It was strange. He's cute though," she whispers not wanting him to hear our conversation.

"And you've never seen him in here before?" I wonder

"No."

"Perhaps he's new in town and just wants to check out his options. Maybe he's trying all the cafés on the street one by one and just happened to realise that today was a better day for our coffee," I shrug finding the situation odd.

"That doesn't make any sense," she says. "It's always a good day for our coffee."

"True," I chuckle.