Page 5 of First Impressions Series

I finished up my last couple of classes for the afternoon, and decided I’d go to the nearby coffee shop, the Daylee Grind, to study for a bit before I went home that evening. It was a nice little local shop owned and run by the Daylee family; hence the name. I spent so much time there since starting at the university that I got to know Mr. and Mrs. Daylee on a first name basis.

Well, they called me by my first name, and I called them Mr. and Mrs. Daylee, because they were my elders and that was the polite thing to do.

I found an empty table beside the outer glass wall that looked out onto a sidewalk and a street that ran parallel to the university. It was a nice spot to sit and watch the people walking by and the patrons coming and going from the coffee shop, which I usually did more of than studying.

I also enjoyed seeing the backdrop of the trees just across the street on the university campus. The leaves were turning various shades of orange, red, and brown now that we were nearing the end of October, and the people walking down the sidewalk were rustl

ing the stray leaves beneath their feet.

Today, since I had just gotten a whole new set of work from most of my classes to kick off the second half of the semester after our midterms last week, I actually had enough to keep my attention focused on. I pulled out a notebook and began writing some notes for a paper.

About an hour and a half later, I was pulled out of my homework trance when a voice above me said my name.

“Zia?”

I looked up and saw Mr. Pack Leader, Dylan.

“Hey… Dylan, right? How’s it going?”

“Hey, I thought that was you. I was just passing by the window and saw you. I just got out of practice.”

“Practice?” I asked.

“Yeah. I play in a soccer league. Didn’t you know?” Did he really just ask me that like I was supposed to know who he was? A lot was starting to make sense about the way he and all those girls were acting last Friday.

“I guess not. Did you come here to study?” No need to keep the conversation feeding his already seemingly big ego.

“Well, not really, but it seems like a nice quiet place to get a little homework done. You mind if I join you? It doesn’t look like there are any more tables open.” He reached for the chair across from mine and stood waiting for me to invite him.

I looked around and noticed how full the shop was now. “Sure, why not?” I answered.

Dylan sat down and began digging through the book bag that he had set on the table in front of him. “So, what are you working on?”

“Oh, I have a paper I’m working on for Social Psychology. You?”

“I have some algebra homework I need to do. You any good at math?” he asked and smiled.

“Eh, I get by. Probably not math tutor material, though.” I laughed.

We began making small talk and I found myself thinking that Dylan seemed a lot more down to earth than I had expected him to be. He was confident like I remembered seeing before, but not so much that he seemed arrogant, at least not at the moment.

Before I knew it, an hour and a half had gone by. Part of it was comfortable silence while we each studied or worked on our homework, but a lot of it was just casual banter.

He didn’t seem so bad, I thought; at least not sitting here alone with me, without his sidekicks or a bunch of ambitious, flirty girls around. A few times people passed by the table and greeted him, made a little small talk, and went about their way. He was undeniably well-known around here.

I got the feeling he was a little out of place studying in a coffee shop, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable at all; like he was one of those guys who were just comfortable in their own skin, no matter where they were or whom they were with.

“You don’t have a boyfriend who’s going to get pissed that I’m here hanging out with you, do you?”

“Um, no… It’s no big deal. So what’s your story, anyway? I saw you the other night at the Book Shelf. You seem like you have quite a selection to choose from,” I taunted him playfully.

“Oh, yeah… that. Yeah, we won our soccer match last Saturday, so me and my buddies went up there to celebrate with some drinks.” He ran his hand through his messy hair nervously.

“I see. I knew I didn’t remember seeing you there before.”

“If you saw us there, why didn’t you come up and say hi or something?” he asked.

“Oh, you looked like you had plenty of company to keep you occupied. Besides, I’m more of a keep-to-myself kind of person.”

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