I am instantly nervous the second I open my eyes the next morning. Butterflies assault my stomach at the thought of seeing Michael in less than seven hours, wondering how it will go. There are so many different possible outcomes.
I hate how nervous I am; it's Michael. I mean it's Michael, but... it's just Michael. I already feel entirely too close to him, given that I've known him for less than a week. I am comfortable, in spite of the odd air that seems to have risen between us. What will it be like, seeing him again?
I don't have to wait long. When I step out of the apartment building, I am stopped in my tracks by the sight of Michael leaning against my car, a cup of coffee in his hand. He is looking at me, clearly waiting for me. My nerves seem to evaporate as I cautiously approach him, reveling in the way that he takes me by surprise almost every time I see him. I am always guessing with Michael. When I get closer, he holds the cup of coffee out to me.
"Thanks?" I say, taking it from him. He laughs.
"It's not for you, it's for Dana. Café Latté, double shot of espresso. She'll love you."
"Oh," I laugh. "Well thank you for the free brownie points."
"What's your order?" He asks. His eyes meet mine and then flicker away, down to his shoes. "I mean like so someday I could get you coffee or something," he mumbles, kicking his feet.
My cheeks would be flushing right now if it wasn't so cold. "I don't drink coffee," I tell him. "But thank you."
"Are we still good for lunch today?" He asks.
"I am if you are," I shrug.
"Cool," Michael nods awkwardly.
"So... see you then?" I ask.
"Yeah, sounds good."
We stand in silence for a minute, and I shiver. "I'm going to..." I gesture to the car, which he is still leaning against.
"Oh," he moves away, laughing. "Oh, sorry. I'll let you go."
"See you at lunch, Michael," I smile.
"Bye, Katherine."
Michael walks back inside the building as I drive away, confirming my belief that he was out here for the sole purpose of talking to me. The swell of giddiness that rises in my chest is difficult to push away.
My hands are full as I approach the office building, and I groan at the thought of having to reorganize in the cold. The weather makes me crazy, the mornings are freezing but the afternoons are warm.
"I got it," a voice sounds from behind me, and Luke's arm reaches out to pull the door open.
"Thank you," I smile.
"Anytime, lady," he laughs. It is an odd nickname, but the way he says it is rather endearing. I like Luke. "Why are you only here on some days?" He asks as we walk through the lobby.
"I go to school on the other days," I explain.
"Really?" He asks. "How old are you?"
"I'm twenty. How old are you?" He can't be much older than I am.
"Twenty two next week," he says.
"Well happy early birthday," I tell him.
"Thanks," he smiles. "So what are you studying?"
"Nothing. Well, everything technically. Nothing in particular."
Luke laughs. "I was the same way. You know they say that the undecided people are the ones who end up doing what they love."
