IF ROSES BLED INK

CHAPTER 7: "DO YOU GUYS SERVE CHICKEN TORTILLAS?"

I don’t know if it’s part of human nature not to want to wake up in the morning but I felt completely the opposite today. My alarm didn’t even get a chance to go off. I was up about 10 min before, thinking about how the day might go. Perhaps one of my less favourable traits, I over think way too often.

Even doing my daily house chores became more of a side quest in comparison to where I knew I was headed. Washing up the few dishes I made the previous night barely took five minutes and sweeping up wasn’t necessary considering I had just moved in. I picked out one of my most “Casual but not too understated”, outfits and left the place with twenty minutes to spare.

This wasn’t of course just me being paranoid. I had to make sure I got there before her. For some reason I figured it might make me look sloppy if I get there after her.

When I got to the Café I sat down and ordered a small coffee to keep me busy until she arrived. At exactly three mintues past nine she arrived and when I noticed her I got goosebumps.

Were sundresses even made to look that good on people. Bright yellow with deep red roses patterned all over. The dress just about covered half her thigh’s length which brought my attention to her shoes. Pure white Nike Air Force One's. Her neck was only slightly stained with a thin gold necklace that showed off her name too. And when I got to her face that heavenly sunkissed light took over again. There might have been a hint of Michael Jackson playing in the background but hey, who else was going through the motions like me.

She sat down by my table and I almost forgot to stop staring at her like a stalker.

“Hey Carlos, you alright?”, she asked looking a little perplexed.

“Uhm, yeah I’m great, What about you?”, I replied nervously.

“I’m okay. So, I brought some of my files with so we could get an idea of what we could be working on this semester.”

“Uhm yeah, yeah, sure that’s great. Just great. Amazing actually.”

I’m not sure if you can tell that I’m totally overwhelmed by her presence but that was the reality of my situation. I was barely able to construct basic words while watching her page frantically through her files looking for something only she could make sense of. I gathered myself a little and remembered why I was here.

“Rose, last night I wanted to ask you something but I didn’t really get the chance.”

“Go on..”

“Uhm yeah, I wanted to know what’s up with you? Yesterday you seemed pretty down and I just really wanted to know if you’re okay?”

“Uhm I’m fine, I’m fine really, there's nothing to worry about”, she hastily replied.

She really seemed thrown off by my question. As if she hadn’t heard it before. Or at least in a while. So I had to ask her again.

“You sure there’s nothing bothering you?”

For a split second it seemed like she wanted to answer but we were interrupted by our waitress.

“Good day sir and ma’am, what would you two like?”, she asked politely.

I couldn’t remember a time in my life where I didn’t have my mother’s famous chicken tortillas for breakfast. My favorite by far. That was what home tasted like. I needed some.

“I’ll have French toast with an orange juice please", she said.

“Do you guys serve chicken tortillas?”, I asked.
I don’t know if I was asking to be laughed at but it just seemed right to ask.

“Haha, no sir unfortunately we don’t. Could I interest you in a toasted chicken and mayo sandwich?”, the waitress asked.

I was a little embarrassed.

“Uhm, no thanks, I’ll just have what she’s having.”

And so the breakfast I couldn’t wait for, the breakfast I seemingly put all my effort into, remained just that.
We ate. Shared ideas and views on the food we were eating, which to be honest wasn’t that great in my eyes and in the end, the farthest we got was discussing our practical and our work schedule. The only real good thing to come out of this experience in my eyes was being able to spend time with Rose. I could complain about everything else but I could never find a problem with her. She was immune to my mood swings.

We agreed that we would meet twice a week to work on the practical. Once at my place and once at hers. I was never really keen on letting people into my private domain but if I wanted to make this work I would have to make some personal sacrifices.