Take Me Dancing

Present Day-

My pen was poised. What should I write? I chewed on my pen lid in thought. Damn public speaking. Once again I found myself in the situation that I was asked to "make a speech to a small audience". Pah! Small audience my arse! No doubt it will be chock-a-block full of people. The thought of all the hungry, judging eyes glued to me as I rattled on about something or other made my stomach churn uncomfortably. I hated talking to an audience, down right hated it! And yet, I always seem to be the person giving the speeches...oh the irony.

I lifted my eyes from the still blank page and gazed longingly out my study window. Cars zoomed down the busy highstreet like army ants, people with their heads bowed and feet pounding the pavement as they swiftly made their way down the street. Deep down I knew perfectly well what I wanted to write about, what I wanted those people to hear from me. I wanted to write about her. But writing it down seemed to make it too real, too painfully, heartshatteringly real. I gave a heaving sigh and put pen to paper. I'll just play the comedy card, that's what they'll expect and I won't give them any different.

10 Years Before-

The hot coffee scolded my throat as I took great gulps of it into my mouth. I grimaced comically and bent my head down, tapping my pen on my notebook I half filled with snatches of inspiration and musical notes. I mummed the tune I was working on to myself as I tried to find the words to say what I couldn't.
"I like your tshirt." My head snapped up at the sound of the musical voice. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the girl standing infront of me. Her dark hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, her mesmerising grey eyes sparkled with delighted humour and her smile made everything around her seem oddly dull in comparison. With a jolt I realised I was staring and looked down at my old scabby Blink-182 t shirt.
"Um, thanks?" I cursed myself. Smooth move dumb-ass.
"Can I sit down?" I stumbled over my words in my eagerness.
"Yes! I mean...yeah, I suppose." She gave me a sweet smile that made my heart melt as she slowly sank into the comfy coffee shop chair.
"I'm Dana by the way." She beamed and stretched out a delicate hand.
"Peter." I said curtly, taking her hand lightly. I tried to distract myself by lowering my head over my notebook and scribbling furiously.
"What are you writing?" Her voice made butterflies erupt in my stomach. I bit my lip.
"Lyrics." I glanced up to raise her eyebrows with a playful smirk painted on her flawless face.
"You want to be in a band when you're older?" I nodded. I could already feel a blush crawling its way up my cheeks.
"I can play a bit of guitar, sing and I'm trying to improve my song-writing."
"That's impressive. Maybe you could write me a song sometime." And with that she got up from her seat and headed out into the pouring rain that April brings. I jumped out of my seat and ran out after her, the rain hitting my face like bullets. I could see a faint outline of her silhouette on the other side of the road. I called her name out desperately. Through the veil of heavy rain I could see her turn her head around.
"Dana! I didn't get your number...?" I could hear her let out a chorus of musical giggles.
"Oh don't worry. I have a feeling we'll meet again." Before I even had time to raise a quizzical eyebrow the 206 bus stopped in front of her and drove away leaving me soaked through to the bone and thinking of the mysterious girl from the Coffee Shop.