Conversations With My Id

(This is a bit of flash fiction I wrote today…)

He watched her leave the coffeehouse with an attention to detail that, had he shown it for the six months prior, would have avoided his having to watch her leave the coffeehouse. He studied her intently, waiting for her to falter and turn. At the very least she was going to pause and take a ragged breath before getting into her car and driving off. But she did none of this. Emily Campo strolled confidently to her car and slipped in. She turned the motor and put the car in gear. Even as she backed up and rolled parallel to the window Jon was sitting at, looking like an eager puppy in a pet store, she kept a laser focus on the road ahead, something Jon just was not capable of. Even if the tears weren’t welling up in his eyes his focus was much too scattered. The car quickly disappeared from sight and Jon wiped away the proof that Emily had had any effect on him. He breathed hard, got to his feet and ordered another latte.

Jon smiled as he ordered. He wasn’t flirting or even trying to make pleasantries. It was more of a defense mechanism that he had picked up in high school. The girl with the lip ring called his order and he went to the counter to pick it up. He smiled again without making eye contact. The girl spoke, but Jon didn’t hear it.

“Everything okay?” she repeated.

“Huh? Um, yeah. Yeah. Just fine.” He faked another smile and began to walk back to his table.

“Well, Mister Just Fine, I’ll be right here if you need anything.” She paused and winked without knowing it. Quickly she added, “Else! Anything else.” she said, wiping her eyes.

The fleeting notion that the girl might have been coming on to him made Jon wince. He was supposed to be heartbroken. He was supposed have feelings of loss and denial and all of the other intense reactions to having been dumped. But even at this early moment those feelings had already seemed to vanish, if they were there in the first place. He stole a sideways glance at her and began typing.

She was ivory skinned. Perhaps it was a trick of the florescent light but the whole of her body seemed to glow ever so lightly. Just light enough, he thought, to make her seem ethereal. The light that shone from within escaped from every pore of her body and blinded him, a feeling he never knew could be so damn enjoyable.

Jon stopped typing and glanced back to the girl. For a moment he wasn’t sure he was making up the words he was writing or just providing a running commentary of his thoughts for all to read. He wasn’t even sure if it mattered. She was busy pouring milk from jugs into the steel carafes they put out for customers. Her back was to him, hair pulled back in a messy and hastily gathered ponytail. He continued writing.

The milky sheen of her soft neck made his breath catch in his throat. He had never seen such a pure shade and struggled to liken to something – anything – he had seen before. He failed. The man was sitting as still as possible in the small cafe he had wandered into quite accidentally. He was just passing thorough, he reminded himself. He had somewhere to be in the morning and it was best he didn’t call attention to himself and start a conversation with a well meaning waitress and get thrown off schedule. Or worse. He shook his head hard to purge that thought and grabbed at the menu. He studied it vainly, not being able to resist looking up and taking in more of the woman. Just then it hit him: what if she was his waitress?

His breath caught again as he buried his face in the menu. The pictures of stacks of pancakes, sides of bacon and bowls of oatmeal blurred into one pool of brown and tan. He glanced up and saw the woman just as she had been with her back still to him. Only now she was talking to the cook through an opening that exposed the entire kitchen to the patrons. The cook pointed to the dining room, and although he couldn’t be sure, to him in particular. He threw the menu back in front of his face and counted to ten. When no one approached him he slowly lowered his fortress. His eyes darted around but couldn’t come to rest on the woman. She wasn’t where he had left her. Had she gone in the kitchen? On break? He had no idea. Someone tapped his shoulder.

Jon jumped. The girl let out a yelp.

“I’m so sorry!” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” She smiled. “I’m Molly.” She offered her hand.

“Jon,” he said, and shook her small hand.

“What are you writing?”

“What? Oh this? Nothing.” He was too nervous to remember to hide his nervousness. He tried to cover up the screen but Molly stopped him.

“Can I see?” Jon hesitated. “It’s okay, I’m on my break.” She could see that he wasn’t sure what to do so Molly helped him but taking the computer and turing it toward her. As she adjusted the screen she said, “So you like what you see?”

“W-w-what?”

“I mean, I noticed you looking at me. Really, I couldn’t help it. You were pretty much boring a hole though me!” She smiled and the ring in her lip caught the glare of the track lighting in the ceiling. Jon thought he flinched. “You have a nice smile.”

“Smile? Did I smile?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly. “Man, you are a jumpy one, aren’t you?” She showed a thin, sly look and began reading the words on the screen.

“Not jumpy really. Just…surprised.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Well, you’re sitting at my table and I don’t know you and you just called me out for staring at you and -”

“Calm down. It’s okay. We in the service industry are used to that.” She looked up. “This is good. Is it about anyone I know?”

“Well, I mean…”

“That’s what I thought.” She smiled. “It was the girl that left a little bit ago, huh?”

“Oh God no!” The volume of the statement surprised them both. Jon blushed. Molly let out a loud infectious laugh that seemed to go on just a little longer than the situation had called for.

“I know. I know. I’m just kidding. It’s about me, then?” Jon didn’t answer verbally but raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to look so guilty.” She reached across the table to touched his arm. The feeling was much different than it had been when they shook hands. There was something more to it. Something tangible.

“Sorry. I just, I just do that a lot. You know, work people I see into stories.”

“It’s fine. I’m actually flattered. No one had ever written about me before. At least, not that I know of.” Jon smiled faintly. “So who was she?”

“Girlfriend. Well, ex, now.” Jon noticed a lack of emotion in his words, and so did Molly.

“Don’t sound so sad about it, man!” The joke cracked her up but only made Jon blush again.

“Yeah. It’s a new thing. Maybe it just hasn’t had a chance to sink in yet?”

“Was that a question you wanted me to answer?” Molly asked.

“Um, no. I guess I should probably answer that myself, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But I can help.”

“Help?” Jon sounded skeptical.

“Yup! I can help for sure. Of course you’ll have to tell me the whole story.”

“Right…” Jon trailed off, still not sure where this was going.

“So you can tell me when you take me out tonight.”

“Take you out?”

“Yeah. Here,” she began typing on his computer. “Here’s my number and address. Now, understand, I never do this. But something is making me and I’ve learned to never distrust something you can’t put your finger on.”

“That seems a very dangerous way to live,” Jon said.

“Dangerous. Or exhilarating.” Molly hopped to her feet and winked. “I’ll see you at six.”