State of Mind

Pigeons: Part 1

I can't help but feel butterflies flutter in my stomach whenever I see her, even when I only catch a glimpse of her. My mind races with flustered thoughts whenever I think about her, even for a moment. My breath hitches whenever I hear her silky voice, even when she's not talking to me. My body trembles whenever she is near me, even if there are people separating us. There is so much about her that keeps me in hopeless awe because she is so...so...

"Hello? Earth to Novalynn," Claya sings, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Are you there?"

I blink rapidly and clear my throat, "Oh, uh, yeah." I scratch the back of my head. "Sorry. I was just...I was just, uh...thinking. Yeah. I was just thinking."

"Obvi," she snickers. She leans forward, resting her chin on her knuckles. "And what is our little Queen Bee thinkin' 'bout?"

Her brilliantly blue eyes are peering into me, already searching for some clue of what is hidden in my mind. And she's searching confidently. The corners of her full lips are pulled up, the gloss on them shimmering in the artificial light. Her free hand is stirring the straw in her drink, causing the ice in it to clank the glass. Her posture is relaxed and calm, contrasting against my more timid pose.

"Come on," she coaches, still smiling. "What's on that pretty little mind of yours, Queen?"

I roll my eyes, taking a quick sip of my drink. "Why do you call me that?"

She shrugs, "Why not?"

"Really?" I cock a brow.

"Oh, shut up," she giggles. "But, for real, what's on your mind?" She takes a quick sip of her lemonade and pouts, "Come on. Talk to your bestie. Pretty please?"

I can't help but smile. The goofy expression written clear across my best friend's face is more than a little amusing. She looks so childish and it almost clears my mind. Almost. As I am about to open my mouth and confess what it is that is running through my thoughts, I see her.

I see her at a table close by, the warm smile painted across her lips reaching the depth of her mesmerizingly dark gaze. Her thick, black locks are cropped short and styled into a faux hawk that suits her well, allowing me to see her gages and the small bird tattoo behind her ear. The sleeves of her white button-down shirt are rolled up to her elbows, revealing her colorful tattoo sleeve and bracelet bands. She is happily chatting with them, showing hospitality as she takes their orders, and that makes my heart race.

Claya takes notice of my sudden silence and turns. I try to rush to stop her but am too late when she turns back to me, a sly smirk sprawling across her features. She knows. Of course, she knows. Why wouldn't she? It's plainly obvious to see.

"Oh? Does our little Queen Bee have a crush on the cute waitress?" she taunts. She taps her index finger against her chin, asking in a singsong tone, "Hmm? What's her name? What's her name again?" I see the wheels in her head turning before she snaps her fingers. "Oh yeah! Liz!"

I lower my head as if trying to hide and whisper, "Hey! Shh! I don't want her to hear us."

Claya crosses her arms over her chest and smirks, "But why? Don't you two know each other?"

I fidget with my straw and shrug, "K-kinda. I mean, we know each other, but we're not besties or anything like that."

"Hey," Claya snaps, smacking her palm against the tabletop, startling me. She shoots a sharp glance at me and adds, "The title of 'bestie' is already taken by me. So, she can't be your bestie, got it?"

I scan her quickly, seeing that she is both joking and being serious. A very confusing expression to read and decode, but I know her. I know her very well. And when she says no one else can be my best friend, then she means it. That is a title she wears proudly. Regardless of how childish it all sounds.