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I walk to the counter and immediately notice all of the sugary yumminess in the display case directly in front of me. Clever. They draw you in with the aromas of the coffee, then reel you in with scrumptious, calorie-loaded goodness on display before you place your order.
I eyeball the double chocolate chip muffin that seems to be calling out to me when the barista chimes in, breaking my trance.
"Good morning. What can I get you?" she asks me.
How anyone can sound so chipper before 8:00am is beyond me. I’m barely coherent or can tolerate human interaction before 7:00am and that’s with caffeine.
"A medium cinnamon dolce latte, please. Oh…and one of those double chocolate chip muffins." I tell her, pointing to the display in front of me.
As I wait for my order, I notice an older man sitting over in the far-left corner of the coffee shop reading a newspaper. It’s not often you see someone who still reads a newspaper these days. Looking around, he appears to be the only one besides myself in here.
After paying for what I ordered, I make my way to the opposite side of the store where a half-moon shaped couch sits. It looks quiet and cozy, far away from anyone who may enter this early in the morning.
I sit down, making myself comfortable before enjoying the first sip of my liquid courage for the day.
As I drink my coffee and eat my muffin, I gaze out the window and watch the sun completely rise. Even though I’m not a morning person, I appreciate the quiet rise of the sun. The start of a new day. A new beginning.
Digging my Kindle from my bag, I start to read. It relaxes me and right now I’m a bit nervous to start my first day as a college student. Burying my nose in the story I begin to relax.
The man in the corner catches my attention when he gets up from his lounge chair and makes his way towards the exit, but not before looking at me and smiling. I don’t smile back, but continue to watch him walk past me. He’s not bad looking, with light brown hair and brown eyes framed with glasses.
He doesn’t spark anything inside of me. Not like an olive skinned, thick bearded, dark-eyed Cuban does back home. Shit.
There I go again. His face-his body has crept into my thoughts again. I don’t get a moments peace. My heart doesn’t let me, even though I’m trying to make my head convince it otherwise.
I finish the last of my coffee and muffin before looking up at the large abstract clock on the wall that reads 8:15am. Realizing I won’t have any extra time to explore campus because I sat here much longer than I intended to, I gather my things. Throwing my trash into the garbage bin by the front door, I head out into the warming morning air.
My first class starts at 8:30am at the arts building across campus. I decided to take graphic designs. I may not have wanted to be here going to college that is—but they do have a great graphics design program and I got to thinking that it could lead me towards a possible career with books. Designing covers for them that is. I’ve been toying with the idea since my freshman year of high school. I even have dozens of covers I have designed over the past several years. I’ve never shown anyone my designs or even told my sister it’s what I’m interested in doing. Maybe one day though.
Entering the arts building I walk all the way to the back until finally reaching room 106b and make my way in. The room is set up to where the desks are like sitting in bleachers, with the next row back a little higher than the first. Not wanting to be singled out or have any attention drawn to me, I take my seat in the very back of the room at the top right-hand corner.
As I’m getting into my seat, I reach into my bag and take out a notebook before digging around the bottom of the oversized tote to find the pen I want out of the ten plus I have on me at all times. I grab a handful and bring them out to make my choice for the day when I hear a masculine, husky voice beside me laugh.
"You’ve got quite a collection of pens there, sunshine. Mind if I borrow one of them?"
I glance up to see a tall, deep brown hair guy sitting in the desk next to me, wearing a bright smile on his face. He looks a bit ridiculous scrunched up in the little thing before he finally stretches out his long legs.
"The name’s Sam." He tells me, waiting for a reply.
"Alba," I smile at him.
"So, can I borrow one of those pens?"
"Oh, yeah sure."
I reach my hand out, letting him have his choice.
"Thanks. So, first day huh?" Sam asks.
"Am I that obvious?"
Laughing he replies, "You look like a deer caught in headlights. Just a little anyway. This is my second year. I started back in the fall of last year. I’m eager to see if the new teacher replacing Mr. Johnson will be able to fill his shoes. So, where you from Alba?"
This guy really likes to talk.
"Polson, about 4 hours from here. How about you? Where are you from?"
I know he must be from the south somewhere because of his accent.
