The Difference Between California and New York

He was cute, I couldn’t deny that, and he had a way of speaking just ordinary words that could run chills down my spine. His voice had a seductive ring to it with everything he said, so I suppose that’s what it was. But when he spoke, whether I wanted to or not, I felt obligated to listen.

“May I sit?” he asked gesturing to the empty chair across from me. I nodded. He moved his way from behind me to in front of me, across from me, only inches away. And I wasn’t uncomfortable; I felt very relaxed which was an odd occasion for me to not feel anything around an attractive man. But I tried to stop worrying about everything and I tried to focus on him, since I figure that now the date has officially begun.

He got himself seated and comfortable, and looked at me expectantly. And I tried desperately to find something to talk about that wouldn’t make me sound like I had never been on a date before.

“So, where are you from?”

“London.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from widening for a split second. I hadn’t expected such an exotic place.

“As in England?” He chuckled slightly, and his eyes lightened.

“Is there any other London?”

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. What made you decide to come over here?” Spencer’s shoulders shrugged for him, and he looked around the bakery, as if he was attempting to physically see the wonderful aromas that filled the air.

“Change? Opportunity? Love?” He turned his sight back to me. “Who knows? I’ve been traveling since I was really little. It’s kind of second nature for me.”

“Were your parents travelers?” He began nodding his head as he spoke.

“Yeah. I’ve been almost all over Europe. England, France, Germany, you name it; I’ve probably been in it, which also leads me to the obvious question you’re about to ask me.” He acted in such a carefree manner, almost childish and playful, like we had known each other for years and were just catching up. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling, even though I hadn’t any idea of what he was talking about.

“Please enlighten me on this question, because I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me about my accent?” he said in a British voice, which made me giggle in a way that might have seemed cute if someone else had done it. “Or rather, my lack of one,” he finished, without the accent and back into his boyish American tone.

“Okay, where is your accent if you're so worldly?” He shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think during that time in a kid’s life when they develop a way of speaking, I must have been in America or something, because both my parents said that I never had an accent of any kind other than American.”

“So you're really not that exotic after all,” I teased. He laughed and shrugged again.

“I guess not. So what about you, little miss baker? Where do you hail from?” I never thought I hailed from anywhere. I had never left this state in my life, and I was the furthest thing from worldly. I was only knowledgeable on the things that traveled along these city streets.

“Well I hope you're ready for this because it’s not nearly as exciting as yours. I’m from Manhattan. I’ve lived here all my life, never even been out of state. Pretty boring, huh?” He scrunched his face and shook his head at me.

“Nah not at all. New York is a busy enough city to make up for never being anywhere else. I’ve seen thousands of cities that look just like it does here. If you’ve been to New York, you’ve been to at least six other counties too.” I smiled slightly.

“Well I guess you would know, huh?” He nodded, his lips curved upward slightly, but not quite a smile, almost like he knew something I didn’t, and it entranced me, but only lasted a second longer before his face returned to a normal grin.

“So, what can you recommend on the menu?” His attention had turned to the big glass case of pasties and sweets by the front counter. “Oh those cupcakes look amazing.” He motioned his head towards the batch of red velvet cupcakes I had baked earlier, and while they did look appetizing, I had no desire to eat them. They were my anxiety cupcakes, and they had just as much nerves baked into them as sweetness.

“I made them.” He swung his head back around and transfixed his hazel eyes on me.

“Really? All of them?” I held back a nervous giggle as I nodded very lightly. “All this morning? There has to be at least two dozen there!” I glanced over at the cupcakes, looking so delectably delicious inside the case, and they probably would have made my mouth water in other circumstances. I looked back to Spencer, and forced a small smile.

“I’m a nervous baker.” His eyebrows shifted at me, one up and one down echoing his confusion. I pointed to the cupcakes and the pasties and cakes next to them. “I baked them and those three cakes next to them, and that loaf of cinnamon bread.” I pointed to each treat as I named it. He turned back to me, a chuckle somewhere stuck in his throat, but not coming out yet. I shrugged. “Some people do drugs, some drink. I bake.”

“What were you so nervous about?” I was sure he was asking that on purpose, just so I could say that he was the reason, and he would probably say something cute or try to make a joke out of it. Or things could get really uncomfortable really fast. But I didn’t want them to, I didn’t want to mess things up this soon. But I was bad at lying, so I just went with the pathetic truth.

“Meeting you, I guess.” The chuckle that was caught in his throat finally forced its way out, and along with it came a rush of blood to his cheeks.

“You’re kidding. You were nervous to meet me?” I nodded at him slightly, the corners of my mouth itching to widen. “Why?”

“Well,” There were really a million reasons why I was anxious, some obvious, and some only the darkest corners of my mind could seem to conjure up. But I didn’t want to invite him into that dimension of my personality yet, that side normally takes some getting used to anyway. “I had no idea what you were like. At least you’ve been watching me the past few days, or however long you’ve been spying on me.” He let out an embarrassed chuckle, as the redness in his cheeks intensified slightly. I tried to hold a smile back. He was cute when he blushed.

“Don’t worry; I haven’t been spying on you. I came in here a week ago for the first time. This place is on my way to work, and I was hungry so I figured I’d just stop in for a quick bite. I hadn’t really expected to see such a beautiful girl working behind the counter.” I looked away quickly and tried to hide the fact that I was blushing so hard my cheeks hurt. “And last night when I was at Tay’s and I saw your coworkers, I just figured I’d give it a shot and see if you were there too. But honestly, this little blind date wasn’t my idea. It was her’s.” He nodded his head to someone behind me, and I followed his gesture to see Sandra, keeping one eye on her cakes, and another on me. I turned back to him, a small smile replacing the big grin from before.

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Sandra. She’s been trying to get me to get back into dating now for a while.” He readjusted himself, leaning over on the table with his elbows.

“Back into it?” I stared at him, debating whether or not I should be completely honest with him. If I told him I’ve only had three relationships in my life, I didn’t want him to think I was some sort of loser. But with the way he was looking at me, in a sort of boyish puppy dog way, I felt good about him. I liked Spencer. And for the first time in a long time, I wanted to be with someone again. I was tired of loneliness.

But I wasn’t just going to come out and spill my entire dating portfolio to him. I would ease into it eventually, if this worked out miraculously.

“My last relationship was over a year ago. And it ended really badly.” His eyes drooped, and I saw real sympathy in them.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Guy must have been a total ass to let you go.” My stomach felt lighter and lighter with each word that came out of his mouth. He sighed and repositioned himself on the chair. “Am I out of line if I ask what happened?”

I thought back to my last boyfriend. We were happy for the longest time, and I thought for a long time that we really had that love like you see in the movies and in the books. I had always wanted a happily ever after, and I think that was my first mistake. He left me really suddenly. There wasn’t really any building up to it, no huge fights, and barely any signs at all. And then I woke up one morning, his side of the bed was ghostly, and there was nothing left of him but a letter on his pillow. I still have that letter somewhere, and I still cry every time I read it. I looked back at Spencer.

“He left me for someone else. He left and the only explanation I got was in a letter he left behind.”
“Wow,” he said in a low voice. “That’s a pretty cruel way to go. You didn’t deserve a guy like that.” I smiled sadistically, and thought of how many times I had heard that phrase. People often think that saying something like that will make you feel better. Really, it just makes you feel worse for believing that you did deserve that person. I smiled at Spencer wryly.

“And what kind of guy do I deserve?” He looked down at his thumbs on the table and laughed to himself for a moment, and then looked up with a very genuine smile.

“A guy who’s not going to hurt you.” The corners of my mouth lowered, and I stared at him, trying to see what kind of emotion was behind his words, but I couldn’t feel anything. His lips had lost the smile drastically, and I couldn’t see any feelings behind those hazel eyes. He looked as if he was analyzing how I seemed to be analyzing him.

“Well, from my experience, those kinds of guys don’t exist,” I finally said.

“Sure they do!” he replied back quickly, life back into his facial expressions and back into his voice. He paused slightly, before speaking much more softly. “In fact, one is sitting right across from you.”

He smiled sweetly, trying to look as boyish as possible, and I had to admit in that moment, I was almost inclined to believe him. I cocked my head to the side and gave him a sympathetic expression. I liked Spencer, and I figure being with someone you like is better than being alone.

“So what do you say? Give me a chance to show you how a lady should really be treated. I’ll even take you out on a real date. When’s the next time you're free?”

“Saturday night.”

“Good, me too. How about you and I go out for a real dinner?” I stared at him and smiled. I had a list of reasons writing themselves down in my head of why I shouldn’t go, but I didn’t want to listen to them anymore.

“I think that would be really nice. Here.” I pulled out a napkin from one of the dispensers on the table and a pen from my apron pocket. I wrote down my name and seven little numbers and slide the napkin towards him. “There’s my number. I hope I’ll talk to you later.”

“You bet you will,” he said with that famous crooked grin every boy seems to master.

“Well, I should be getting back to work now. Those cakes don’t bake themselves you know.” He began sliding out of his seat, making the metallic of the chairs scrape against the porcelain floor, unleashing the horrendous screech it makes.

“I really want to taste one of your cakes sometime. I’m sure I’ll be back in real soon for that.” I stood myself up at the table as he started to backtrack towards the door. He pulled his jacket up closer over his face before looking back at me. “Bye Annabel,” he said as he pushed open the door, causing the small little bell above to sound as a gust of cold air came rushing inside.

“Bye,” I answered quietly once he was already halfway out the door. I watched him walk along the streets until the windows of the bakery ended and he was beyond my vision.

“So,” spoke a voice from behind me. I turned only partly to see Sandra walking towards the table. She leaned against the napkin dispenser and nearly tipped the entire table. “How did it go?” She had an expectant look on her face, and I just smiled at her and looked away back towards the windows. I still couldn’t tell if I should hit her or thank her, but I decided that part of me wanted to do both.