Meant to Be

Miranda had first noticed him in line at Starbucks. The bright yellow scarf wrapped around his neck was a great contrast to the black v-neck and gray cardigan that seemed to hang off of his slender frame. Though he was wearing what some would consider “hipster” garb, he didn’t give off the aloof vibe of a hipster, and that’s what attracted her the most. Even though it was seven AM and he was just ordering a coffee, he still sported a smile across his warm features, like it was his duty to make those around him feel better.

She couldn’t help but watch him as he stepped up to the counter. His brown eyes carefully scanned the menu overhead before he reached a decision.

“May I have a venti gingerbread latte please?” he asked in a voice as smooth as honey.

“Sure, that’ll be four seventy-five,” the barista answered, running a hand full of manicured nails through her auburn bob as she took the crisp five dollar bill he handed over. Apparently Miranda wasn’t the only girl intrigued by this stranger.

But Miranda brushed it aside, taking a sip of her own latte as she flipped through her textbook. She had a huge history exam the next day, and she needed to refresh herself on some of the dates and names.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice asked, causing Miranda to look up from her book. As luck would have it, it was the cute stranger.

She quickly glanced around the crowded coffee shop, looking to see if there were any other empty seats. She secretly wanted to know if the seat at her table was his only option or if maybe he happened to find her interesting in the same way as she was drawn to him.

Even though she denied it in front of all her friends, Miranda still clung firmly to the idea of soul mates. With so many people out there in the world, there had to be at least one person meant for everyone, the only trouble was actually finding that one person. She hoped that when she found hers, she’d just know.

And right now, as this boy stood over her table, waiting for her response, she felt like she knew.

“Sure,” she replied, giving him a faint smile as she reached again for her coffee. She wanted to say something to him, maybe spark up a conversation, but the words wouldn’t come to her.

Though she pretended to be ensconced in her book, she watched him stir Equal into his coffee out of the corner of her eye.

“So…what are you sipping on?” he asked cautiously, trying to be nice but also trying not to disturb her studies.

“A gingerbread latte,” she laughed a little to herself. “What about you?”

“The same,” he smiled. “I guess great minds think alike.”

Miranda couldn’t help but smile at the cheesy line. “Yeah, I guess so. These things just taste like Christmas though, so it’s a little hard to resist.”

The boy chuckled as he held the cup to his lips. “You’re right about that,” he mumbled before taking a sip. “I’m John, by the way,” he said, offering his hand across the small table.

She took his hand, enjoying the roughness of his calloused hands against her own. “Nice to meet you, John. I’m Miranda.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Miranda,” he smiled, and she couldn’t keep her heart from fluttering in her chest. “So, what are you studying?” he asked as his brown eyes fell to the dog-eared page in her hand.

“Western Civ. Mind-blowing, right?” she replied, laughing slightly at her own joke.

“Oh yes,” he responded, picking up on her sarcasm. “Do you go to school around here?”

She nodded. “I go to the college right around the corner. What about you? Are you in school?”

He grinned as he fiddled with the empty sugar packets. “Nah, school was never really my thing. My head was always in the clouds, which turned out not to be such a bad thing. The world has its own weird way of making things work out.”

“Mhm,” Miranda agreed with a sigh. He spoke the truth.

John rose up from his chair. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Miranda, but I really need to go meet with my brother. Actually, I was supposed to be there like, ten minutes ago, but I lost track of time. Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, see ya,” she replied as she watched him walk away. In her mind, she was beating herself up for not doing anything. She should’ve at least got his number or something, maybe even asked him out for lunch later, but she couldn’t find the right words to say, which really had never been a problem for her.

There was just something different about John.

Miranda noticed his red coffee cup on the other side of the table; he must’ve forgotten to throw it away. As she finished her own coffee, she grabbed the forgotten cup and headed to the trashcan to throw it away along with hers.

Just as she held John’s cup over the trashcan, she noticed something scribbled in pen on the cardboard holder. It was his name followed by seven digits, and she couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope in the back of her mind.