I’d kill for an hour with a similarly-minded human being. Throw in a Hawaiian pizza, peanut M&Ms, and a nice bottle of Pouilly Fumé, and I’d be in heaven.
I’m not a complicated creature, but I am an exhausted one. A bored one. A lonely one.
There’s a tiny pink-haired fairy sitting about ten feet from me. She’s been coming to Bitches Brew to study for a while now, and I’ve never seen her come in with anyone else. She’s always alone when she arrives, always alone when she leaves.
Is she a loner, or just lonely?
I’m contemplating buying her one of those fancy hot cocoas she seems to be somewhat addicted to when it occurs to me that I’m being a creeper right now. Watching anotherhuman being from a distance, getting to know their processes, their preferences, their habits.
Creeper. With a capital C.
I need to channel Wyatt, my inner toddler, who walks up to damn near anyone—and everyone—and requests, nope, demands they be his friend. I’d say he has a ninety-two percent success rate. But he’s also far cuter than I am.
If he was here, pink-haired fairy girl would absolutely want to hang with us.
Or maybe the fact that I’m a single mom might send her running for the hills.
It’s safer to stay in my lane. To leave her and her hot chocolate the hell alone. You can’t be rejected if you never introduce yourself and put yourself out there. But she seems as sweet as pie.
And I need to get back on the friendship horse. I’m a social being, and while I have friends, I don’t have anyfriends, y’know?
She’s muttering something while chewing on the end of her orange highlighter. Orange highlighters are my favorite too, so that seals our fate. I’m making this woman my bestie. Even if it means gaining thirty-five pounds from drinking hot chocolate just to get to know her.
Challenge accepted.
I dunno why my palms are sweaty and my mouth is dry as I cross the few feet to her table. When the squeak of the chair I pull toward me outs my presence to her, wide, confused eyes meet mine.
Please don’t turn me away. Please?
I’m not a psycho killer. My worst crimes are that I let my toddler have too much screen time, and I love pineapple on pizza.
When she doesn’t speak, I drop onto thechair, offering what I hope is a warm, friendly smile that doesn’t come across as “I ate a burrito for dinner last night and have gas today.”
Her hand twitches as her eyes follow my auburn waves down my shoulders. Not sure if she’s going to touch my hair, or her own short hair, so I keep smiling. Now that I’m up close, I get a better look at her. She has a jagged scar down one side of her face.
It’s pretty badass. And instead of blending into the background, she’s dyed her hair a vibrant pink. If I had that scar, I’d shrink into obscurity.
I barely resist the urge to reach across the table and tuck her hair behind her ear. She’s fucking stunning. Hiding behind hair on her face… I dunno, I get that she’s probably self-conscious, but she has no cause to be.
My new best friend’s eyes are wide, like she’s trying to silently communicate to me that I’m sitting at the wrong table. If I sit here for much longer without saying a word, she might lose her mind or break out into actual sweats.
“Hi, I’m Victoria.” I stick my hand out, hovering over the pile of books and notes she has littered across the table. “Or Tori. I’ve seen you come in here almost every day I do, and I figure since we’re both here a lot, and we’re both studying alone, we may as well study alone together, right?”
There’s no way she can say no. I’m an absolute fucking delight. I’m a hard worker, I can sit quietly, and even if she thinks she never has to talk to me, I’ll win her over one day at a time. The tension holding my neck muscles hostage dissipates as her face relaxes.
But she doesn’t speak or move. Not dropping my smile, or my hand, I tilt my head just a smidge. “If you’d rather I take myself back to a table by myself, I can do that too.” Pretty sure no one’s walked to my old table behind me, but I glance back just to be sure.
Still like a deer in headlights, she cautiously accepts my hand and shakes. Her hand is so bony compared to mine, and she’s cold.
“I’m Eloise.”
She speaks! And she has such a pretty name, to match her edgy, striking vibe.
“Let me guess—introvert, right?”
She gives me a slow nod. “How’d you guess?”
I can’t help but laugh at the terror etched across her delicate, doll-like features. “I thought so. Don’t worry, I’m not some weird energy vampire or anything, and I’m not going to talk and talk and talk at you when you’re trying to study—ugh, isn’t that so annoying? But I wanted to say hi and get the ball rolling by telling you I’m your new best friend.”
