when we collided [e.s.]

Eight

Ed pulls a book out of his bag at 7:30. The whole bowl of blueberries is gone by 6, and the juice boxes are drained and recycled. I plug my earbuds in and lay on a towel under and behind the counter in case Emma comes in today and sees me lounging on the floor for all of the two customers that come here to see and scold. The towel is compliments of Ed's secret stash, as well as the music choice. Which gets me thinking...

"Hey Ed?" I ask. He chuckles, so I just assume i'm probably screaming and take the earbuds out. "Yes?" He asks, flipping a page. I sit up and put my arms around my knees. "Don't hate me for asking again," I say nervously. "I could never hate you Audrey," he smiles into his book, which he seems completely indulged in considering it takes him a good fifteen seconds to answer my questions. "I want to hear your songs," I admit once again. His eyes flicker up for the first time. "Come on. It's been almost a month, don't you trust me?" I ask, standing up. He smirks and slips a napkin in his book to mark his place. "You're right. Let me just pour my heart out and let you read all my deepest darkest thoughts and secrets," Ed says, standing up from his seated position on the ledgeondary green stool. Now we're almost face to face, Ed is leaning against the wall and I'm leaning against the counter. "Okay. I get it. Forget I said anything," I say, giving up. He'll show me when he's ready. Right? "Someday, Audrey," he smiles. Suddenly, the door opens and Emma walks in, along with a gust of wind. I kick the towel farther underneath the counter before anything else. "Hey, rookie. How's Ed treating you?" She asks, her blonde hair touseled from the wind. "He's doing great," I say, connecting eyes with him for a few seconds before starting a conversation with Emma.

"Do you want me to walk you home again?" Ed asks as he locks the door and puts the key in his back pocket. "I'll be alright. But I've come to realize we haven't exchanged numbers yet," I say, trying to be subtle. I've never really been good at that. "Oh, yeah, you're right," Ed says, taking out his phone. He hands me his phone and I hand him mine. In the slot for name I put "Audrey Your Coffee Mate" to make him smile. Then I type my number carefully to avoid the fatal "wrong number incident" that always seems to be inevitable. He hands me my phone back and I do the same. "I'll see you tommorow. And I'll bring some of those comic books that you said you wanted to look at," I say, buttoning my coat. It's October 26th and London seems to get colder faster than America.

Ed's POV

"Okay, thanks," I reply with a smile. I almost don't do it, but I work up all the courage I've got and speak up. "Hey, Audrey?" I call, turning around. She turns too, her smile lighting up the darkened shops and stores. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her, stroking her hair gently and hoping she doesnt notice that bit. "If you ever feel like that again please call me. I don't want you to be alone when it happens," I assure her. She sinks into my chest and hugs me tight, I think just to comfort me and replies, "I will. Thanks Ed."

On the way home, I stop at a mini mart gas station to pick up an iced tea and a bag of crisps for dinner. My eyes scan the shelf until I find the potato crisps and I grab a medium sized bag. New Leaf iced tea is the first thing I see so I pick that up and take it to the counter. There's one other guy in the store, and there are flies buzzing around the lights. The guy is a brunette with peircing blue eyes, you couldn't miss him if he were walking down the street in a group of other people. He's slightly muscular, but only mildly attractive. There's something about him that kind of sends a shiver down your back. He reaches the cashier before me and I'm surprised when an American accent tumbles out of his mouth. "A pack of Camels," he says, referring to the cigarettes behind the counter. "ID please," the woman says, boredom in her voice and eyes. The guy shifts. "I'm obviously not underage," he argues. Oh boy. "Sir, I'm going to need some ID," she argues back. I see the guy's eye twitch. "Look, I lost my ID last night on the plane here, someone stole my wallet. Can't I just tell you my name? I think I have a card signed up for this place in America," he mumbles, yet his voice keeps getting louder. "Name?" She asks, typing something into the system. "Ian Samuels," he says.

Sorry, short one. Hope you enjoyed! :)