"Tell me your story," she said, leaning toward me.
I blinked at her.
She was pretty, I suppose. Her t-shirt was wrinkled, the logo concealed in the folds, and her blonde, almost colorless hair was tangled and frizzing from the storm winds she'd walked in from. She hadn't bothered with make-up, but her attitude rendered the lack of cosmetics irrelevant. She had a calm that seemed to come from knowing that she liked herself, and that no one's opinion was going to change her own on that count. Besides, there's just something attractive about a woman who just doesn't give a fuck if her lips are chapped or if there's a zit coming in next to her nose ring.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Um...." I bit my own lip and watched my fingernails tap the white ceramic coffee cup. "What do you want to know?"
"Your story, doll," she huffed good-naturedly. "How did you end up here, sitting in this coffee shop, on a date with a woman you only know by a friend's description? No one ends up in that situation without a story of some kind."
Wow. She was forward.
I shifted uncomfortably, damning the combination of my flowy short skirt and the too-hot leather seat. I took a long draught of my coffee and winced. It needed a bit more sugar and significantly less heat.
I finally looked at her again.
Her eyebrows were raised, her lips pulled off to one side, slightly upturned. She rested her elbows on the table, arms open, palms up. Her iced chai sat square between them, sweating and puddling.
"I don't really know," I said. "I guess I was... bored?"
She nodded oddly, kind of scooping her chin forward.
"Yeah, bored," I affirmed. "No offense."
She backhanded the comment away with a limp wrist.
"None taken. Boredom can be a great impetus for adventure."
I caught myself looking at the table when I smiled, and I forced myself to make eye contact. I desperately wanted to avoid being rude.
"I'm not actually great with adventures. But yeah, I suppose. It'd been a while, you see. I broke up with my last boyfriend last fall semester...."
I paused, waiting for her to interrupt here.
Her gaze didn't waver. She made that odd scooping nod again, and settled one finger beneath a cheekbone.
I took a deep breath.
"There was just... something missing, I guess. The dates were fine. The sex was fine." I crossed my legs tightly under the table. "He was nice enough."
I settled my hands in my lap, pressing my skirt down my thighs, as I shrugged my shoulders.
"I thought it might get better after that. You know, since being single's supposed to be so much fun."
She chuckled at that. "Who told you that lie, sweetie?"
I found I liked the way her eyes crinkled.
I quickly involved myself in taking a sip of my too-bitter and too-hot coffee.
"Society, I suppose," I muttered, setting the mug back on the table with a clink that startled me with how loudly it rang through the coffee shop.
Was it quiet enough that people could hear our conversation? I eyed the young man at the next table over, his head dropped into his hands as he pored over a textbook. I took an unsteady breath when I realized he had long white wires dangling from his ears.
"I'm guessing that single-dom didn't turn out so hot," she prompted, gently.
"Uh, yeah." I tried to smile at her. "It was awful. I did single things. You know. I went to parties. I went to bars. I went to clubs. I had bad sex and worse hookups."
She scoop-nodded again, eyes intent on me.
I laughed a little, but it was more bitter than mirthful.
"It wasn't all that fun. The guys - " I held my mouth open for a moment, and then clicked my lips shut. "The sex - " I tried again, only to bring my hand to my lips as I faltered once more.
Her eyebrows rose. I probably blushed.
"It was... predictable," I concluded, dropping my hand onto the table, palm down. "It always went the same way."
Her finger moved from her cheek to her lower lip, and tapped once or twice. Her nails were unshaped and unpolished.
"How so?"
I sighed, and pursed my lips.
"I'd meet a guy. I'd think he was reasonably attractive, maybe even funny, or smart. If he seemed interested, I'd let him know I was down, but not, you know, locked down. I'm not an insta-relationship girl."
I found it easy to meet her gaze when I said this.
"We'd have sex or hook up or not. Sometimes I'd see him again after that, maybe two, maybe three times. But nothing ever really..."
I waved my hand vaguely above my coffee mug.
"Manifested?" she offered.
"Yeah." I bit my lower lip. "And it was boring."
"Huh." She tapped her lip with her finger again, shrugging with the corners of her mouth. "So, what made you think you might try a blind date with a woman instead?"
My laugh was reflexive. I felt warm coffee coat the side of one finger as I scrabbled at my mug for a sip.
She gave me a moment, taking a long draw of her chai through her straw.
I wiped my hand off on my skirt.
"Well...." My voice came out high-pitched. I cleared my throat.
"Well, I was just... ready for a change, I guess." I watched spilled coffee wend its way down the white ceramic to the table. I didn't want to see her react. "Jessa's always been more flexible than I am, and, um... she has fun, you know? Her love life doesn't seem formulaic at all."
I snuck a quick look at her. She noticed, and smiled encouragingly.
"So.... I dunno. I - I asked her if she knew anyone."
My skin peeled away from the leather seat as I fidgeted.
"And, well, you know Jessa...."
She grinned at me now. I hesitated, but smiled with her.
"Yeah, I know Jessa." Her hand dropped to the table, making it very easy to see how pretty that smile made her. "The phrase 'social butterfly' was coined to describe your roomie."
"Seriously," I agreed. "She was the kid that 'stranger danger' was meant to scare to safety."
When she laughed at that, her chuckle moving up to a note high enough to be a hiccup, I really did grin at her. She was cute.
"But, yeah," I continued. "Of course Jessa knew someone. She started telling me about this marvelous person."
"Yeah?" She leaned back a little.
"This marvelous person who likes to go white water rafting and mountain climbing and is up for trying just about anything once and wants to be a history teacher and makes plate armor on the weekends...."
A small blush crept into her cheeks and she briefly pressed on hand to the nape of her neck. The folds of her t-shirt shifted, and I saw that the logo was the ship Serenity.
"Oh, yeah," I said. "She just went on and on describing you, telling me all these things that you like and do and dream. Like, she told me that you volunteer at the animal shelter repairing fences because you can't have a dog in your apartment, but miss being around animals. All this detail. And I was... mesmerized."
The pitch of my voice dropped on that last word.
We smiled at each other over our drinks. In tandem, we both took sips.
I didn't notice or care how bitter the last dregs of my cooling coffee were.
Our empty cups clicked as we set them back on the table.
"Anyways, Jessa waited until I was all but set to marry you, sight-unseen, before she slipped in, 'Oh, yeah, and she's a girl.'"
"Yeah?" she asked. Her tone was light, but she was watching me very carefully. "Did you freak?"
I smoothed my skirt down again, recrossing my legs.
"A little," I conceded. "But... I dunno...." I laughed, sincerely this time.
"I guess you just sounded like such a wonderful person, I... didn't really care. I wanted to meet you. And... I figured - " I threw my hands up into the air beside my head. "What the hell? Worst case, I don't like you and you don't like me, but at least I did something different."
She rolled her lower lip into her mouth, and looked up at me through her lashes, slow and smoldering.
"Now that's a story, doll."
"I mean.... I guess."
"So.... Is this the worst case scenario?" She eyed me sort of sideways with the question, kind of rocking side to side in her chair.
"I-" My words got caught in a smile, and I bit my lip closed, glancing toward my shoulder and then back at her. "I don't think so."
I reached across the table and lightly touched the back of her hand, just the tips of my first three fingers resting on the tendon of her index finger. Her skin was soft, and warm, and just a little bit damp from the condensation on her cup.
"I don't think so," I repeated.
