I wrapped my hands around the warm paper cup and looked off into the distance as the shutter clicked. I knew that would be a good one. I was thinking about the trees outside and pretending not to notice my faithful bestie clicking away on my phone.
Today, I was who I said I was. My makeup was perfect, my hair was stylishly messy. I hadn’t had much to eat yet, so my stomach was pleasantly empty. I was wrapped in a fashionable faux fur shrug and tight black skinny jeans. I had a book open on my table and grande almondmilk mocha latte in my hand. I had actually read some of the old book, too. It was mildly interesting but I never got very far in it.
“I think I got it.” Angelique said as she slid into the chair across from me. She handed me the phone and I gave her the coffee. She sipped appreciatively.
I swiped through the photos quickly and nodded.
“Perfect, thanks.” I muttered as I found the good ones.
It’s not like I’m lying. Today was proof. Sometimes I am actually super cute and hang out at coffee shops and read old books. Most days? No. Today? Yes.
I vaguely noticed him come up from the corner of the coffee shop and moved towards our table. As he walked by, his large hand came out of his pocket and popped Angelique’s coffee out of her hands and all over her. She gasped in surprise.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” He said, but something about his words didn’t sound right. A barista rushed over with napkins and a general murmuring ensued around the shop.
And he was gone.
I wouldn’t have thought much of it, except Angelique’s silk shirt was ruined.
And a few days later, I had to relive the moment over and over again, wondering what went wrong.
