She Needs Love

Chapter Eight

Song: Bird - Billie Marten*

The clock finally struck two as Ida pulled her cell phone out of her apron. The café was slowly filling up with familiar faces. People she had known her entire life. The ones who had watched her grow up over the years.

People who had never cared to learn anything about her. Those who did know her seemed to try their hardest to erase her from their minds. Because if they ignored her, maybe they wouldn't feel as guilty when they watched her suffer from the sidelines?

She hated the breaks more than anything. They were undeniably the worst part of her job. If she had a choice, she would work her shift non-stop. Because once she stopped, she had to take in everything around her. It was too overwhelming. Too much for her to handle. Working was her best distraction. Other than art. She would get so caught up in wiping tables and washing dirty dishes that all her worries faltered away.

But the thirty-minute breaks were unavoidable. Her boss made sure of it. Grudgingly, she set an alarm for half-past three and pulled her waiter's pad out of her apron. With her head bent low, she took a seat in an empty corner of the café. Yearning to be left alone.

The familiar sound of the bell chiming as someone entered the café caught her attention. When she looked up, her eyes met a certain brown haired boy. He was dressed in an oversized red sweater. His hair was messy, as if he had just woken up.

He could feel her gaze on him immediately. Almost as if she had called his name. His eyes filled with surprise at the sight of her sitting in the darkest corner of the shop by herself.

This time Ida didn't look away, she stared at him; begging him to stay where he was. But he did the opposite. He started walking towards her booth with confidence. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear a thing.

What was he doing here? He never came to this part of town.

"What are you doing here?"

He stood right across her seat, looking down at her which caused her entire body to tense up.

His eyes soon fell on her dirty apron. Covered in old coffee stains and sweat.

"You don't work here, do you?" He looked confused  at her and Ida knew exactly why.

She put her waiter's pad down, with more force than intended.

"I do, actually."

She knew what he was thinking. It was precisely situations like these she had been trying so hard to avoid. So that people wouldn't be speculating about why someone who attended Redding Academy would be working here. At an old coffeehouse on the wrong side of town.

Was she a poor scholarship student? A rich kid who wanted to live more authentically by wiping tables and pouring coffee. Was this job obligatory community service? How else could she, a waiter at a trashy coffeeshop be attending one of the most prestigious private schools in New York City.

Thomas stayed quiet, but the look on his face had said it all.

Her waiter's pad caught his attention. In an attempt to break the silence that had fallen upon them, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Do you draw? That is pretty cool."

He nodded towards her scribble-filled pad. When she realized what he was looking at, she quickly covered it with her hand.

"I'm sorry about what happened in the cafeteria the other day. Dan can be a dick sometimes. I hope we weren't bothering you?"

"It's alright." Her voice was faint and fragile. She wasn't sure if he had heard her.

"How about this, then?" He reached out his hand and grabbed the waiter's pad from underneath her palm. His hand softly skimmed her skin as he picked it up. A shudder ran through her body.

"I give you my number..."

The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he carelessly scribbled something down.

"And you can either throw it away, or you can call me if you change your mind."

He put the notepad back on the table and gave her a smile that flashed his dimples.

Something inside her wanted to rip out the piece of paper and throw it in the trashcan by the door. Instead she just looked at the notepad in silence.

"I'll see you around, Ida."