coffee shop

3

Lou

I walk into Starbucks at 7:15 AM as always, still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Sometimes I get annoyed at myself for getting up in the pitch black morning just to swallow a crappy doppio and stare at a pretty girl-then the bell rings over my head, and she turns around to greet me with a wide smile.

I'm awake.

"Welcome to Starbucks!" she chirps from the bar.

"Good morning, Lou!" Beth chimes in from the register. "Just a doppio this morning?"

"That's right," I say as I pull my wallet from my back pocket.

"A pound ninety."

I hand her two pounds and tell her to keep the change, as usual. Before I can even put my wallet away, she slides the tiny cup in front of me.

I quirk an eyebrow. "Already?"

She shrugs. "Your order never changes."

I laugh and take the cup before moving to my usual table and taking a seat. I can't stop myself from glancing up at her-and this time, when I do, she's looking back at me. She immediately ducks her head.

Today, her nametag reads Olivia in a curly script. I try to imagine calling her by that name, but I just can't see it. She doesn't seem like an Olivia to me. I couldn't tell you what name would suit that dark bobbed hair and those matching eyes, but I know it's not Olivia.

My hands dive into my bag to fish out my battered copy of The Outsiders. The title is barely legible and the binding is loose from years of use. Normally, when I decide to pick this book back up and read it again, I'm through it in a day, never putting it down long enough to make a dog-eared bookmark. This time, however, I'm stuck on the same page I was stuck on yesterday, and the week before, and the month before that. The corners of both the left and right pages have been dog-eared, then re-dog-eared, then re-dog-eared again. I'm getting impatient with my inability to move forward and how close I am to ruining these pages.

I check my watch. It's 7:20. I have half an hour before I have to leave and get to work. I open my book and try to focus on chapter two.

Johnny was always nervous around strangers.

Glance. She's still at the bar.

Johnny was always nervous around strangers.

Shift. This seat is uncomfortable.

Johnny was always nervous around strangers.

Glance. She's gone. She's probably in the back.

Flippin' heck, Lou. Focus.

Johnny was always nervous around strangers.

Johnny was always nervous around strangers.

Johnny was always nervous around strangers.

Johnny was always nervous around-

"You're a slow reader."

Panic strikes me through as I look up into those deep brown eyes. I haven't seen them this close before-I'd thought they were black from across the counter.

I smile, hoping she can't see how anxious I am. "Not usually."

Her gaze flicks to my book, then back to me. "Not usually? So you don't usually spend two months on the same chapter of the same book?"