Page 2 of A Deal For a Kiss

Maybe that would be a good time to introduce myself. I’m cold and my hair is damp, so I can’t exactly put my best foot forward.

The steeps slowly rise in the mug, and I stand on the other side of the counter trying my best to warm up, but a chill runs over me.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand.

I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of coffee grounds and cinnamon. I can even smell the aroma of my tea starting to rise.

When I open my eyes, the barista is sliding the teacup across the counter to me on a coaster.

“Sugar is over on that table.” The barista tilts her head to the side with a tight smile. “Enjoy.”

I smile back at her although it wavers. She tells me the same phrase I hear every time I’m here.

With my hands mostly warmed, I doctor my tea with sugar and a little milk and take it to a table on the center wall.

I used to sit by the window, but a shiver deep in my spine warns me away.

It’s him.The crazy thought seeps into my mind. My breath catches and I hope the barista doesn’t see. It’s all consuming.

The chill haunts me wherever I go. Even on the rare sunny days, I feel it. I feelhim. There have been days of this. Sleepless nights and long days of pretending I’m not crazy.

I wrap my hands around the cup of tea and try to convince myself I’m just overreacting.

My tote hangs heavier on my shoulder. The notebooks are there. Two of them. One for what I came for and the other for him. The sketches. The feelings. The nightmare that I’m terrified will return.

A shadow passes in front of the café window.

I can’t help following it as it moves along. The shadow has a tall, wide shape of a person, but I can’t see any features. The window is too fogged. The difference between the heat of the café and the cold of the rainy air outside is too great.

My heart pounds as the shadow slows down and pauses, like he can feel my eyes on him. Thump. Thump. My heart seems to slow, as does time.

I steal another glance at the barista. As quickly as I can, praying she sees it too. With one more thump of my heart I turn back, and he’s gone, but the chill remains.

Another moment passes and it’s then I realize my hands are shaking, my knuckles are white from gripping the mug so tightly. With effort, I relax my stance and tell myself it’s nothing.

It’s nothing but a nightmare.

These thoughts are only make-believe.

I sip my tea. It’s still a bit too hot, burning my tongue mildly as it goes down, but the heat makes the chill a little less harsh. I focus on it. Focus on breathing deeply and grounding myself. Keep my feet here, in the present, in this moment.

A hot cup of tea, a quaint café, and a beautiful city filled with so much history.

Movement catches my eye and my entire body stiffens.

A couple of people walk by, just as blurry through the fogged-up window, moving fast.

It’s nothing. There’s nothing to worry about.

When I finally manage to relax into my chair, my face is hot. I fish my phone out of my pocket on instinct. I should call a friend just to hear another person’s voice. Someone who could bring me back to reality.

But as I scroll through my contacts, another kind of chill sets in.

It had been hard to meet people when I first came here, but I had met a few people I’ve seen every so often and recognized.

I did have a group of friends back at home, but with the time difference and them moving and applying for jobs and internships and…moving on to the next phase, the messages have slowed.

Somehow, between now and the moment I set foot in this city, those people have faded out of my life. I’ve just felt so cold and isolated here. All the texts I’ve exchanged with people are from months ago. Those months flew by, despite the cold that seems to make every hour drag. It’s been months, I realize. Months since I’ve had anything close to a social life.

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