“Sure, I’ll take another beer. Get a pitcher? Let me pay though, it’s my round.”
Madison pulled out a wad of tips from the zip conveniently placed on the inside of her leather jacket. The better service she gave to the customers buying beer in her bar, the more drinks she purchased in others. It was the circle of life, only in beer form. Ashley waved off Madison’s effort to pay for the drinks, took one look at Emily, who was still engrossed in her emails, and then headedto the bar.
Ashley found herself in close proximity to the girl she now knew as Megan. There was a moment of manoeuvring required to allow Ashley access to the bar, located inconveniently behind the crowd of people. That was standard for a bar of 101’s size. Ashley considered taking the longer route and accessing the bar from the south side, but the opportunity to see the mystery girl up close prevented her from changing direction.
The tall, shabby wooden table they congregated around only had two chairs; both seats were taken, so said girl stood directly to the right, closest to the bar area. Ashley observed the girl, who was blissfully unaware of her approach until the very last second. Then, as if the collision was somehow deliberate, they found themselves face-to-face. At the moment Ashley politely excused herself through the crowd, Megan had turned towards her friend, who she must have assumed was still standing directly behind her. The timing was perfect. Ashley was now within arm’s length of the girl who had consumed her thoughts all night long and, for a concise moment, timestood still.
They were almost perfectly matched in height. Naturally, their eyes locked. They say that a person’s eyes are the window to their soul. The true meaning of that was perceptible at that moment when they communicated without words at all. The connection so powerful that Ashley forgot to breathe—a quick gasp for air brought her back to a somewhat normal rhythm.
Confusion clouded Megan’s eyes as she became the first to lose her nerve and drop her gaze to the floor. Ashley glanced towards the bar and then back at Megan once she’d safely found a spot to order.
“One pitcher of Black Forest, please.”
The encounter lasted less than thirty seconds—that’s all it took for Ashley to be consumed by the connection between them. After she gathered the drinks, she returned to her table, eyes focused on Megan for the rest of the evening. As she sat in awe of the girl she so desperately wanted to know, she asked herself;how does such a connection form without communication or touch?
***
Ashley came back to reality—her coffee was almost empty and she found herself wondering whether it was normal to connect with someone purely through body language and eye contact.Had the atmosphere been as electric as she perceived it to be that first night? Or the second?She awaited communication from Megan for clarification.
The way the wind whipped back and forth required more than the t-shirt Ashley donned. She swiftly headed back down to her apartment, made another coffee—PERU medium roast this time—and perched herself on the couch.
Ashley was fully engrossed in a new thriller Emily had recommended when her phone lit up. She scrambled for the remote to pause the TV. The number on the screen appeared unknown. Her fingers went to work on the security pin, accessing the message in seconds. The message read;
Hey,it’s Megan.
Ashley burst upright from her reclined position. There was a breakthrough. She waited no time at all to compose a reply.
Hi, Megan. How’s yourhead today?
The response was lacking wit and somewhat cautious. Ashley, unsure how the conversation would play out, wanted to make sure she didn’t come ontoo strong.
On a scale of 1 to 10, I would say it’s a solid 7. Nothing I can’t handle. How about you? Did you have agood night?
The keypad went to work as Ashley tapped away, the response sincere, but too forward. She realised fast before her fingers hit send and abruptly deleted the message. The composition of another message, more casual, better suited the conversation.
Nothing a few cups of coffee can’t fix. It was a fun night, the first weekend I have had off in a long time, so it was a welcomedrarity. You?
There was no response immediately. Ashley reverted to her sprawled position on the couch, left with a sense of satisfaction from the night before. She knew her friends would quiz her intensely when they woke, and the embarrassment of not getting a reply would bemortifying.
After noting a third cup of coffee before lunch would be unacceptable, she opted for a refreshing glass of pineapple juice and some vitamin C instead. The second she placed her glass down on the hardwood floor, her phone sprang to life. It was Megan. She gripped the phone in one hand, with her finger poised and ready to hit the green symbol.Why was she calling?Ashley was unprepared for a phone conversation; she jumped up and down before irreversibly takingthe plunge.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I thought I would just call. I hope that’s okay?”
Ashley stuttered, “Sure,of course.”
The pause on the line emphasised her quick, uneasy breathing. Nervous, she recalled what she had wanted to ask the night before. “So, are you from New York?”
“Do I sound like I’m from New York?” Megan laughed.
“No, not in the slightest. I honestly couldn’t even take a guess at where you’re from—no offence.”
“None taken. I am originally from New York, believe it or not, but I moved to England when I was six. So the accent is a little bit ofa mixture.”
“That’s so cool. Why England?”
“My dad was a professional basketball player. He got offered a contract in the British league when he was twenty-five andhe took it.”
