conversation with me. It happened before, and not that I’m not friendly, but when I’m trying to get everything done so I can have my night to myself, polite conversation just screws with my self-imposed timeline.
“Are you doing homework?” the guy asked, and I let out a sigh but tried to make it noiseless since I didn’t want to offend him.
I looked up to smile by way of greeting, and fuly planned to look right back down at the problem that was giving me trouble. I figured if I didn’t engage him in conversation, he would know I wasn’t in a chatty mood. Then I realized it was Connor who had posed the question.
“Hi,” I said, surprised to see him.
“Hi,” he said, flashing me a wide grin. “Wow, you look different.”
I realized I had my glasses on and reached up to yank them off my face. “Reading glasses,” I said, as I felt my face flush. “I only wear them when I do homework.”
“They look good on you,” he said, and I felt my face heat up more. He was flirting again.
“Okay,” I said, not sure what else to say. He had a girlfriend. Why was he flirting?
“Why are you doing homework? School just let out an hour ago, and it’s the first day. What’s the rush?” he asked incredulously.
“I like to get ahead,” I said simply.
“Wel, I like to procrastinate,” he said, shooting me a grin as he settled back into his chair, his arms behind his head. “Want to procrastinate with me?”
I had trouble resisting his grin, so I closed my book and rested my pencil and notebook on top of it. “Sure, why not.” I smiled at him as I took a big sip of my latte.
“Connor?” asked the barista behind the counter as he looked around the café.
Connor jumped to his feet and stroled over to the counter, taking his grande whatever it was from her. I watched as he walked over to the station with the cream and sugar, picked up the half and half, poured a liberal amount into his cup before securing the lid. I noticed he didn’t add any sugar. I also found myself paying attention to the way his dark wash jeans fit him perfectly, faling just over the tops of his black Converse sneakers.
As he walked back to me, I caught myself checking him out and felt my face flush with this realization as I cast my eyes to my lap. I focused on the factory-made tear in the pocket of my jeans as he settled into the seat next to me, setting his coffee on the table between us.
“So, you like Band of Horses?” I asked, thinking of the only question that came to mind as I’d just been focused on how his gray tshirt, emblazoned with their name, was stretched just enough across his chest and biceps. I forced myself to look at him after I asked the question as to not look like I was inept at carrying on a conversation with someone who was making my stomach a competitor in women’s gymnastics.
“Yeah,” he said, and I could hear the surprise in his voice. “Do you know their music?”
“Absolutely.” I was glad I’d found a subject I could converse with him on. Music was one thing I did know.
Wyatt and I had been slightly obsessed with finding bands that were more obscure or who were just about to break into the mainstream. It seemed like once they hit the radio stations their music changed and became less soulful. We relished the albums that came before the influence of the big labels, who imparted their wisdom of what would sel versus what was actualy good, on the bands we loved.
“Impressive,” Connor said, and I wondered if he’d gotten tired of listening to Alexis’s favorites which included anything that was in the Top 40 and had a pop vibe to it.
“I saw them at ACL last year,” he said, and I was instantly jealous.
“I hate you,” I said simply, and he just grinned, knowing I was kidding. “Who else did you see?”
He started to tel me about Austin City Limits, one of the best outdoor music festivals in the country. Wyatt and I had always wanted to road trip down for it, but it was always
“Are you doing homework?” the guy asked, and I let out a sigh but tried to make it noiseless since I didn’t want to offend him.
I looked up to smile by way of greeting, and fuly planned to look right back down at the problem that was giving me trouble. I figured if I didn’t engage him in conversation, he would know I wasn’t in a chatty mood. Then I realized it was Connor who had posed the question.
“Hi,” I said, surprised to see him.
“Hi,” he said, flashing me a wide grin. “Wow, you look different.”
I realized I had my glasses on and reached up to yank them off my face. “Reading glasses,” I said, as I felt my face flush. “I only wear them when I do homework.”
“They look good on you,” he said, and I felt my face heat up more. He was flirting again.
“Okay,” I said, not sure what else to say. He had a girlfriend. Why was he flirting?
“Why are you doing homework? School just let out an hour ago, and it’s the first day. What’s the rush?” he asked incredulously.
“I like to get ahead,” I said simply.
“Wel, I like to procrastinate,” he said, shooting me a grin as he settled back into his chair, his arms behind his head. “Want to procrastinate with me?”
I had trouble resisting his grin, so I closed my book and rested my pencil and notebook on top of it. “Sure, why not.” I smiled at him as I took a big sip of my latte.
“Connor?” asked the barista behind the counter as he looked around the café.
Connor jumped to his feet and stroled over to the counter, taking his grande whatever it was from her. I watched as he walked over to the station with the cream and sugar, picked up the half and half, poured a liberal amount into his cup before securing the lid. I noticed he didn’t add any sugar. I also found myself paying attention to the way his dark wash jeans fit him perfectly, faling just over the tops of his black Converse sneakers.
As he walked back to me, I caught myself checking him out and felt my face flush with this realization as I cast my eyes to my lap. I focused on the factory-made tear in the pocket of my jeans as he settled into the seat next to me, setting his coffee on the table between us.
“So, you like Band of Horses?” I asked, thinking of the only question that came to mind as I’d just been focused on how his gray tshirt, emblazoned with their name, was stretched just enough across his chest and biceps. I forced myself to look at him after I asked the question as to not look like I was inept at carrying on a conversation with someone who was making my stomach a competitor in women’s gymnastics.
“Yeah,” he said, and I could hear the surprise in his voice. “Do you know their music?”
“Absolutely.” I was glad I’d found a subject I could converse with him on. Music was one thing I did know.
Wyatt and I had been slightly obsessed with finding bands that were more obscure or who were just about to break into the mainstream. It seemed like once they hit the radio stations their music changed and became less soulful. We relished the albums that came before the influence of the big labels, who imparted their wisdom of what would sel versus what was actualy good, on the bands we loved.
“Impressive,” Connor said, and I wondered if he’d gotten tired of listening to Alexis’s favorites which included anything that was in the Top 40 and had a pop vibe to it.
“I saw them at ACL last year,” he said, and I was instantly jealous.
“I hate you,” I said simply, and he just grinned, knowing I was kidding. “Who else did you see?”
He started to tel me about Austin City Limits, one of the best outdoor music festivals in the country. Wyatt and I had always wanted to road trip down for it, but it was always
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