I ran those groceries up, tossed them on the table, and slowed down only when I got close to the last corner before she could see me. Trying hard to play it cool, I popped around the corner, and she gathered up her stuff. As we walked down the street, we made the awkward first steps in any conversation where you are trying to get to know someone. No, I live alone, I'm single. So sorry to hear you aren't close to your dad. Yeah, it is nice, a great location for apartments. It's great to see the weather finally starting to turn toward a nice fall. Wow, nursing! That's a good paying job, and it's gotta be pretty fulfilling, too. Nice choice for your studies. Me? I'm just a manager of a men's clothing store at the mall. It pays the bills, right?
We sat down with our coffees at the shop, and things just built from there. No, she loved her dad, but hated how he hurt her mom. She only came to see him because he was alone now, and she hated that more than the hurt he caused the whole family. She had a younger brother and sister, but they stayed with her mom. She sat on the step because he would sit in front of the TV and ignore her after the first few minutes of conversation. I could kinda relate, my parents did the same thing, and they would fixate on only what they wanted, and not get that I just needed to live my life. She totally understood, and that's why she wanted to get out of there so bad. She couldn't focus at home, she tried to keep the family somewhat together by visiting her dad; she just needed to move on, and until she could, she had decided to just stretch to cover it all herself.
The conversation lapsed as we both sipped slowly on our coffees. So similar, yet so different. There was something tangible there, and I could feel it. I knew I had to see her again, and I tried to think of a way to. I hit on the idea by complete luck.
"So why not bring your homework over to your dad's? It's not like he would bother you once you started working on it. Then you could focus and get it done, and help get your grades back up."
"I would, but it's a lot to carry over from my mom's, and I don't have a car. And I hate taking the bus, just thinking of all the germs, ugh..."
"Well, and don't take this the wrong way, but if you'd like, I could pick you up on my way home on Fridays. You normally stay the whole weekend, right? Then you could bring your books, work on your studies, and get school done and move on with your life."
"I could never impose like that, I'll be ok."
"No, I insist. I'd appreciate the company. How about this? You can pay me back by taking breaks from your work to sit and have coffee and chat with me. I get so bored upstairs by myself, and it would be nice just to have a friend to chat with."
"Really?" she wavered. I knew I had her.
"Yeah, come on. I promise I'm not that bad once you get to know me."
And so we agreed to start our weekend coffee club, just the two of us, with a simple handshake over some coffees. We grabbed two more cups to go, and started walking back home. The sun had started to set, and the day was cooling off, but things were just heating up between us. As we approached the apartment building, I asked if she'd like to join me for dinner, unless her and her old man had plans. She didn't even stop in to ask him. With that smile, she answered, "And leave this conversation when it's just getting started? I don't think so!"
We walked up to my place, with me apologizing profusely for not cleaning before having company. She replied that her dad was back to his bachelor ways, so she was used to it. We walked into the kitchen, and I started picking up the groceries from earlier, stuffing them into the little cabinets in my tiny kitchenette. I told her to have a seat, and started pulling out things for dinner. I cooked us two little steaks and some mixed veggies. She slid around the kitchenette, tidying things up, setting out plates and utensils, and giving the table a homey feel. A few times as we both moved around we brushed up against each other, or out right bumped into each other, and you could feel the electricity passing back and forth. The conversation stayed light, and we joked about professors at her school, and people in the neighborhood. As we sat down to eat, she looked at me from across the table, and there was something in her eyes, some glint that I couldn't recognize. We talked about things in common, and things we disliked, and things that drove us crazy, and we laughed so hard that it made us cry. It was one of the best meals I have ever had.
As we finished up, she got up and took the dishes to the sink, where she started washing them. I told her to stop, to not worry about them as I would get them later. She insisted, so I got up to stop her; after all, she was a guest. I slipped behind her and grabbed her hands out of the sink, then realized the position we were now in. She stopped, her breathing slow and baited; she was waiting for my move. I sensed this, but wasn't sure if we were on the same page. I figured I had nothing to lose, so I took the next step.
"You don't need to do these, I'll take care of them later."
"So then what do we do now?"
