Fake It Like You Matter

"Let me get this straight, Love." Jessa said to me the next morning on our break, completely exasperated, "You slipped him your number, he sent you a text message, and you didn't reply?!"

"I didn't know what to say," I admitted, "You know I'm a complete hopeless mess when it comes to guys! I was up all night thinking of some cute witty response and then I just got too scared to send it."

"Send it!" She almost yelled, "I'm going out for a smoke."

I watched her go, pulled out my phone, then slouched down into my big cushy purple armchair.

I could totally do this.

'So Love, it looks like youre cute AND sneaky.
Do you give out your number to every guy?
Pete - venti hazelnut mocha'

I hit reply.

'Only guys like you.'

I sighed at the text. It had seriously taken me all night to come up with that. Pathetic. I signed it 'Love - bashful barista'

At least that was sort of cute, right? I hit send.

"Honestly, why don't you have friends?" Jessa teased when she came back inside at the end of our break.

"Maybe I'll find out at my next therapy session." I rolled my eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Where are you always off to with that guitar, anyways?" Jessa asked me at the end of our shifts, "You're not in a band, are you?"

I laughed, "Of course not, Jessa."

She waved as she got into her car and I skated off in the direction of Sandalwood Park, a pretty spot, not too far from my house, where I liked to play my guitar and people watch on sunny days. Though, since it was in a bit of a rough area, you wouldn't want to be caught there after sunset.

I set up on the corner, under a giant oak tree, and relaxed.

I hung out there for an hour unwinding by playing and singing along to whatever songs were floating around between my ears, mostly other artists , but a few of my own creations as well. Occasionally a passerby would toss a dollar into the guitar case, thinking I probably needed their money.

"Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?" I sang softly, "Am I still your charm or am I just ba-AAH!"

My phone vibrated in my pocket, causing me to jump about a foot off the ground and drop my pretty guitar. I forgot I set it to vibrate. I had a new text message.

'Well, I'm going to assume you might like me, then.
So, do you want to get together sometime?
Pete (v.h.m.)'

I smiled and texted him back right away, asking if he wanted to hang out in the park for a bit. But his reply told me he couldn't get the car, but he would be glad to meet me there tomorrow, if I liked. He also may have insinuated that I was a drug dealer for my choice in recreational spots.

We decided to meet there at four the next afternoon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I told you." Jessa smiled the next morning, "He likes you."

"Yeah, maybe," I shrugged refilling the grande cups, but totally beaming. "I guess well find out."

Sadly, my good mood didn't last long. It seemed like I had the longest shift ever, even though it was the same length as the rest of my shifts. I mopped up about 8 spills, burned my arm on the coffee maker and got yelled at for my supposed incompetence twice. Coffee drinkers were mean.

"Love, why don't you just take off a few minutes early?" Jessa suggested as I continued holding my arm under cold water, trying to hold back my tears of frustration. "I'll cover for you. You did really great today."

"Thank you." I managed, drying my arm and putting a little bandage on it.

I skated over to my spot with my guitar and sat down to wait for Pete, the venti hazelnut mocha with gorgeous brown eyes and a crazy smile, that would be there in less than 10 minutes.

After twenty minutes, I was antsy. Another half an hour, and I was annoyed. And an hour after that, I was straight up pissed.

He blew me off.

Worst day ever.