Grey

For someone who doesn’t even like coffee, I sure drank a lot of it. It was all her fault. She loved it, for reasons I couldn’t understand. She used to say that she couldn’t wake up without it. I remember snorting in laughter when she first told me, not able to comprehend her dependency on the liquid. She’d rolled her eyes, in the way that she sometimes did, the emerald orbs so bright when contrasted with the whites of her eyes.

The half-smile that played on her lips when she rolled her eyes was one of my favorites. She had so many different smiles. I loved the way her mouth would slowly pull up at the corners, the lazy smile so easily placing itself on her face. Her smile made it seem like everything was simple, uncomplicated. But it wasn’t. I know this now better than anybody.

I remember the first time she smiled that smile whilst rolling her eyes. It was when I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out on a real date. I’d never asked a girl out before. Then again, I’d never met a girl quite like Grey before.

I’d debated with myself about it for days, imagining all the scenarios possible. I created the script in my mind, analyzing every word that I would say. It all seemed so hard. I knew where Grey would be. She always sat under the same oak tree on campus at the same time every Monday. It was the only form of routine she had in her life, besides her early morning coffee run, which according to her, was essential.

I’d always disliked Mondays, but this one cool, September morning is an exception. I remember the maroon sweatshirt I wore. I remember pulling everything out of my closet in search of something to wear. I remember stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans so that she wouldn’t see them shaking. I remember seeing her just sitting there, blending in but standing out all at the same time.

“Hey,” I said. I’d tried so hard to sound casual and confident, but the shake in my voice gave me away. Grey closed her book and looked up at me, sliding her glasses back to rest on top of her head, in the midst of her tangled, blonde hair.

“Hello, Nate,” she said, a small smile lighting up her face. I could feel my hands start to sweat and shake even more so than before. They remained in my pockets and I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. Grey put her book down on the bench beside her and stood up. Her eyes bored into mine, as I stared back at her. It was like we were locked in a strange sort of staring contest.

She blinked first and laughed, running a hand through her hair. She tilted her head to the side and looked at me, a look that resembled curiosity settling on her features. I felt myself smiling as my stomach twisted in nervousness.

“I – would you – I just – forget about it,” I struggled, sighing and looking down at my feet. I expected her to just leave it, pick up her book and be on her way. But Grey was anything but what I expected. Every day with her revealed something new. She was never boring, not like me.

I felt her soft skin against mine and froze. She gently tilted my chin up with her fingers, forcing me to look into her eyes.

“What is it, Nate?” Grey’s voice was soft, delicate. Just like everything else about her.

“I don’t know how to say it,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

“You always scratch the back of your neck when you’re nervous,” she stated. I just looked at her. This statement was so significant to me and it’s the one I always remember, because it was then that I realized I had a chance. She noticed things about me. She noticed me. Me, of all people. Boring, regular, average Nate.

Me.

I remember how smiling felt. I must have been grinning like an idiot. I laughed, a real one. That didn’t happen very often. It was like she brought me to life. I shook my head, still smiling, and managed to ask her:

“Would you go out on a real date with me?”

It wasn’t what I’d rehearsed. It had come out in a rush. It was all wrong. A “real date?” What was I even saying?

She rolled her eyes and smiled that half-smile and my stomach twisted in nervousness once again. Everything about her left me breathless. Her jingle-bell laugh met my ears and then she was putting her hand on my arm and smiling up at me.

“Yes.”

Never had a three-letter word made me so happy in my life. I grinned at her as she took the pen that was tucked into her messy hair out to scrawl her phone number on the back of my hand. She suggested we go out for coffee, of course. I agreed, too blissfully happy to acknowledge the fact that I hated coffee. Just as I was walking away, I stopped, remembering. I turned on my heel and started to go back.

“I like food,” I said abruptly. She frowned slightly before laughing.

“What a coincidence,” she said. “Me too.”

“Maybe we should eat some, then,” I said. “After the coffee.”

“Sounds good,” she laughed again, her wide smile on full display, her adorable dimples to compliment it.

"I guess I'll call you."

"I guess I'll pick up," Grey shot back at me, a huge smile on her face. I smiled shyly back at her and waved awkwardly, before going on my way, once again.

I turned to look back at her, and saw that she was at a nearby vendor, handing over her money in exchange for a large Styrofoam cup. I smiled to myself. Just knowing this one little thing about Grey made me feel important, like I could be someone, and mean something to her.

Coffee was an important part of Grey’s life and I guess I’m grateful for that, or else we wouldn’t have met. These days, I’m still trying to decide whether I’d choose not to meet her, not to fall in love with her, if given the choice.

A part of me knows I could never do that. I could never give her up. The other part of me is certain I could.

Because I did.