Chapter 1
Who do I want to be?
Does this question keep me awake at night? Do I constantly keep asking it to myself? No. But are there moments in my life where I stop doing everything and sit down and mull over it? Yes. Does that make me a great thinker? No. Not at all.
I stare at the white stripes made by the raindrops on the window to my right. I got the good table, I smile to myself. The coffee in my hands tastes too bitter for my liking, but I will drink it anyway. I'm not the kind to have it remade by the barista. I'm not boasting about the goodness of my heart; I'm merely stating my irrational fear of confrontation. Or rather, my fear of mere conversations with strangers, or people in general. So I'll suck it up, plaster a smile on my face, and get going. I know it can't be too good for me or my self-esteem, but it is the way I'm wired. And I do apologize for that, incessantly, all the time. I often cringe at how many times I say sorry or thank you to the point that I'm convinced people think I'm a pushover. But oh well. I don't mind if people have such an opinion of me, as long as I don't make a complete fool of myself.
I turn my head to my left, where the distinct ting of someone entering through the cafe door is heard. A tall man, maybe around 25 or 26 years of age, enters, looking rather amused with himself about being caught in the rain. He has a smile plastered on his face as he tries to shake off the water on his jacket and jeans. His hair is flopping around, dripping water, and he pulls it back with both his hands to reveal the striking features underneath. I pull my gaze away from him, rather reluctantly, and frown. Apparently, there is a God, and he chooses certain people to look like Greek Gods and Goddesses. I scoff at the thought. He probably has a pea for a brain anyway. Because if there's one thing I put my complete faith in, it's that no one can have everything. They are flawed in one way or the other. And the only way to love a person unconditionally is to love them because of their flaws and not in spite of them.
I pull my mind away from the hot guy and back to my self-reflective question: Who do I want to be? That was entirely why I am sitting in a cafe alone, and not at home under my covers, enjoying the chill that comes with the rain. I snap out of my thoughts when my phone rings.
'Hey Zal, everything ok?' I ask, wondering why my best friend was calling in the middle of her date.
'Oh yeah, everything is fine. I'm home and I couldn't find you. Tell me you're out buying groceries or shopping. I desperately need to spend money.'
'Weren't you out with...' I pause, trying to remember his name, '...was it Aden?'
'Yeah, well, Aden turned out to be a raging misogynist. It was rather embarrassing, if you ask me. Enough about him, where are you?' I hear her opening my fridge and rummaging through it.
'I'm at Awning Dawn. Needed a coffee run. I'll be home in an hour and you can tell me all about Aden then,' I smile, ignoring the fact that she's being so nonchalant about the guy she had a crush on for months.
'What? You never go alone. Are you set out to doing the things that scare you? Because I can't handle that kind of optimism right now.' I hear her munching on something. 'Fine. Get me a cupcake on the way.' She didn't have to tell me twice.
I smile, shaking my head as I put my phone back down. Aden was Zal's 'workplace crush,' like she calls it. She's been talking about him so much lately that I finally convinced her to ask him out, or at least make sure he knows she's interested. I wonder what Aden must've said or done that she couldn't even stay till the end of the date.
I put the finished cup of coffee down and look around the cafe to call a barista for another one. As my eyes sweep through the cafe, they halt at the centre table. It's him, the guy I so graciously called a Greek God. He's staring at me as he drinks his coffee and immediately averts his gaze when I catch him in action. A chill runs down my spine for reasons I couldn't explain. I think nothing of it and call over the barista for a refill. I deliberately stare down at my phone to seem unfazed, but I see him looking at me from the corner of my eye. I see him getting up and walking around the table as if to approach me, but he turns back instead and leaves out the door. I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. My heart is pounding, and I can feel my pulse racing. What was happening to me? After finishing my second cup of coffee, I get up and go up to the counter. I buy the cupcake Zal wanted and get out of the cafe.
As I stand outside the cafe with the rain pouring adamantly, I sense this need to get home quickly. I take my phone out to request a cab ride, groaning when it says it's seven minutes away. I stand there, crossing my arms to brace myself against the cold, and look out at the bustling city, which doesn't even seem to bat an eye at the horrid weather.
My thoughts involuntarily shift to the way I felt when I saw that guy in the cafe. My heart drops when our eyes lock, and I'm not sure if that's a good kind of feeling. I find him incredibly attractive, yes. He has dark eyes, with the rain and glass reflecting off them which makes them look magical. His hair falls perfectly even though it is drenched and dripping. The T-shirt he has underneath his dark jacket is sopping wet, and I can make out the sharp lines of his chiseled chest. How long had he been watching me? Was he listening to me? My breath hitches at the thought.
I shake my head as if to clear it of his image. This is all in my head, I convince myself. It has to be. Maybe I'm PMSing. Maybe it's stress from the fact that my finals results are to be announced tomorrow.
"It's a particularly rainy day, isn't it? Worst of the season, I reckon."
I turn my head to find the source of the voice. I suck in a deep breath as I look into the dark eyes I mentioned earlier. They look like broken marble up close. How did I not sense him come up to me? He's looking down at me with a half-smirk on his face, then turns back to look at the traffic on the road in front of us. I stare at the side of his face for what feels like hours before I clear my throat.
"Uh, yeah. The weather's pretty bad." I turn to look back toward the road, making sure my voice doesn't shake. I feel a chill in my spine like before when I caught him looking at me. I get goosebumps all over my body, and the hair on my neck stands up. Why is my body reacting this way?
"Are you waiting for the rain to stop? Because it probably won't. Where are you headed?" His face is still facing ahead, but I can feel his eyes on me, staring sideways.
I take out my phone to check my ride's status: two minutes away.
"I'm waiting for a cab," I say curtly, avoiding his last question. His presence doesn't feel threatening; in fact, if it wasn't for his face, I would've found this interaction friendly. The way he asks the question makes me think he is about to offer me a ride. Did he actually think I'd get in a stranger's car?
He pauses, and I can feel him go slightly stiff. He shifts uncomfortably, which I assume is completely out of character for him. "Yeah, that's a good idea." He turns to fully face me now. "You were in the cafe a while back, right? I remember seeing you. You look like someone I used to know."
I turn my head to look at him. He has his hands in his jeans pockets, and he looks twenty-eight and nineteen at the same time. "Yeah, I saw you too. I thought you left long ago."
He smiles in a way that tells me he knows something I don't. My gaze falls to his lips, the way the skin around them crinkles perfectly. "You saw me leave? I didn't realise you were paying attention." He tilts his head like he would if he caught a kid stealing candy.
I tear my gaze away from his before I start actively swooning over him. I swallow hard, racking my brain to say something that won't make me look like a complete idiot, or worse, desperate. "I wasn't. I was just observing." I headpalm internally.
"It's fine if you were. Paying attention, I meanseeing as I was too."
I freeze. Before I have to say something, my cab arrives. I turn toward him and smile tightly. "Well, that's me. It was nice meeting you." I rush toward the cab.
He looks at me as I get into the car and steps closer. "Likewise."
And with that, the driver pulls away from the curb and into the bustling traffic. I lean back against the headrest, close my eyes, and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
