I first noticed her sitting inside Starbucks, frantically scribbling in one of those spiral bound notebooks like you had in high school. It was wide ruled, so perhaps Middle School is more likely. I’m not sure why that stuck out so blatantly, like a neon flashing sign above her head, blinking “ODD” on and off. She, well okay, the notebook, grabbed my attention completely.
There was nothing remarkable about her, she wore a simple pair of black pants and a white button down shirt. The kind of shirt that molds to a woman’s shape and has that slippery look, but isn’t actually silk, and is de rigueur for the “Modern American Woman”. You see women like that in every office building in the Country, like they’ve been stamped out of a mold on an assembly line.
Her bright blonde hair was cut shoulder length, with what I thought of as a severe part on the right side. Each hair seemed to be held perfectly in place, just so. The red tapping nails of her left hand, the only contrast to the black and white of her clothing. She didn’t seem aware of the click, click, click of her nails on the table. The more I watched the more frantic the movement of her pencil, almost violently assaulting the page. Her lips, slightly twisted into a look of concentration, or perhaps it was frustration, which seemed more likely due to the state of that ever fascinating wide ruled notebook.
The tapping picked up tempo, only to stop briefly, as she drank from a cup set at just the right distance to be easily in reach, but out of the way. The brief respite stopped the frantic scraping of the pencil, as she drank, and glanced about for the first time since I arrived. It wasn’t just the notebook that grabbed my attention, then. I’d never met a woman with violet eyes. She caught me, just as I passed her table, with a look so full I stopped completely, unaware of what I was doing. Caught at that moment by the utter unexpectedness of her gaze.
I became conscious of the people moving around me, holding their hot cups away from my body, sidling to get past as I blocked the aisle between the tables. Slowly I drifted to the seat across from her, our eyes locked together, some strange energy flowing between them. Her pupils widened as I sat, ensnared by her eyes, and the mystery of that notebook. Her voice was furry and slightly rough. It jolted through me, sending tiny thrills of electricity. Uncontrolled and uncontrollable.
“Hi! I’m Jill.”
…to be continued.