73 Memories

The First Memory

I remember when I first saw you. I had walked into that tiny little cafe, nervous. It was my first day in Portland, and since it was a big city, I was petrified. I'd come from a small part of Maine, but my father thought it would be best if we left the past behind. And so, I left him home to unpack what we had been able to take in the car, waiting until the moving truck would show up.

I had ordered a coffee, black because I wasn't in the mood to figure out what this little coffee shop was good at making. I asked for it in a to-go cup, but I wasn't going to leave because, well, where would I go?

So I got the bitter coffee and took a seat in the corner before pulling my book out of my coat pocket. It was a big pocket and a small book, making it a perfect fit. I read about three pages before I noticed a shadow over me. Sighing, I sat up a little straighter and put my book down, trying to look fearless even though I was about to pee myself. I looked up where, admittedly, you were the tallest person I'd seen in my life. "What do you want?" I asked you, doing my best to sound unfazed by your whole demeanor.

You smiled a little before resting one of your hands on the table. "You're sitting at my booth."

I inwardly rolled my eyes, deciding to just pretend I wasn't about to run away with my tail between my legs. Instead, I looked around the booth before returning my gaze to your nearly-gray eyes. "I don't see a name."

You snorted and sat down across from me, an action that surprised me. "Are you new?" Your words were blunt, and I didn't know if that was you trying to be rude or just your personality. I remained silent, and you took that as a yes, which was the correct answer. "Thought so."

You shifted your gaze to my book, and I pretended not to notice as you tried to figure out what it could possibly be about because the name and the cover were kind of odd.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked you nervously, giving up the act.

You nodded your head and extended your hand. And then you told me your name, and I politely gave you mine. My new name, at the time.

I expected you to ask me to leave, or maybe you were going to, but neither of those things happened. The air around us was awkward, but how could it not be? Yes, I knew your name, but that was as far as my knowledge of you went. So instead of engaging in conversation with you, small talk not being my strong suit, I picked up my book and started to pretend to read it, although my brain was not making sense of the words I was scanning over. I forced my eyes to make movements as if I was reading, and I turned the page a few times, too. But I was still aware of your eyes watching me.

Finally, after a few minutes of feeling your eyes on me, I looked up. "What?" I had said, putting my book next to me in the booth.

You shrugged your shoulders and put your elbow on the table before cradling your head in your palm. "You look familiar." Again, you were blunt.

Immediately, I was nervous. We moved to a bigger city so it wasn't obvious who I was, so my father and I had a better chance at normal life. I immediately used all the acting skills I could muster, which wasn't a lot. "I don't see how." Under the table, I was balling my hand into a fist, my nails digging into my skin. I did my best not to wince or flinch from the pain.

"I don't either, but there's something about you that makes you seem familiar."

I laughed lightly, and this seemed to surprise you because your eyes widened slightly. "The new girl laughs. I thought you just had a permanent look of disappointment," you clapped your hands mockingly, making my laughter die down quickly and my usual scowl come back to my face.

"I better go. Didn't mean to intrude at your booth."

And before you could say a word, I had already slid out of the booth and the bell to the door was ringing behind me.