Finally!
Being bi has paid off.
After years of painful questions and weird looks, I've met someone who's
made it all worth it.
"Sunshine..." I breathed thankfully, as she opened the rickety, wooden door of
Dream-catchers' Coffee Shop, face lit up with the biggest, most beautiful
beam.
She pulled her hand away from her mouth to wave nervously at me, and I
almost broke my leg on the edge of the table, reaching to wave back.
"Hey." I gasped, unsure of if I should stand to untuck her chair or stay seated
or offer to fetch her a coffee or crack a joke...
But she was already perched opposite me, stirring a teaspoon of honey into
her iced tea, staring wishfully past me.
"Hey." I repeated, trying to make my voice sound rougher – deeper.
Hi." She smiled, bashfully. "Do you need some hot lemon tea for your... cold?"
Dread catching in throat, I shook my head.
I wonder if this is how guys feel?
"This is a nice place." I glimpsed around. "How did you find it?"
Sunshine placed the teaspoon down, laying her hand in the centre of the table.
"My parents own it."
"Really?" I scanned the room again, taking in the low ceilings criss-crossed with
beams, the small tables of two; the smell of coffee and freshly-baked cookies.
"For how long?"
She sighed. "Since as long as I can remember, I guess?"
I blinked at her, interested. "So, you've lived in BLANK all your life?"
"Guess so." She gazed absent-mindedly out of the window.
Tilting my head uncertainly at her resting hand, I reached out to hold it. "You
don't sound very happy about it...?"
She looked down at our hands, and I felt my stomach lurch to think of her
pulling away, disgusted.
But she squeezed my hand gently. "Maybe I want to see the world a little
more? It just feels like there must be more to it than this. Is that so wrong?"
"No." I choked, spilling my coffee over the table. "It makes perfect sense."
She drew back startled, as I dabbed the puddle with the bottom of my blue tshirt.
"How so?"
I hesitated. "Isn't everyone curious about how things could have been
different? And how things could change if we let it?"
Thoughtful, she cupped her face in her hands, elbows propped against the
table. "Your probably right."
Breaths quickening, I gulped down my cappuccino.
"How about you?"
I gaped at her – anxious.
Have you lived here for long?"
"A year." I shrugged, uncertainly. "Maybe two."
She blinked, "Not long then..."
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Guess not."
"Why?"
Hesitant, I pinned my eyes to the floor. "Sometimes we need to leave things
behind."
Nodding, she slowly drained her cup, looking past me to the counter. "I've got
to take my shift in a minute, so my mum can take a break."
I turned to the woman; her wavy, blonde hair and round face exactly like Charlotte's.
"Okay." I said, trying to flick from my hair from my eyes to look cute, as it fell
dead in a stripe across my face. She reached her hand across the table, tucking
the strands behind my ear, and pausing as I gazed warmly into her deep blue
eyes.
"I'll message you..." She whispered, jumping abruptly from the chair, and
scurrying to the counter as I sat – glowing and amazed – feeling my heart
flutter as I replayed her touch in my head.