Something about that guy. There was something about that guy that made Rosalyn dizzy. It wasn’t his chocolate curls or his pale, smooth skin or his teeth that reflected the sun. It wasn’t any of that. It was this energy, this aura, this magnetic field that he created that stretched out from his skin and barely touched her.
She talked to him every Monday morning.
“I’ll have a regular coffee.”
Levi recognized her face but he didn’t know her name. After so many Monday’s of regular coffee, he felt like he couldn’t ask for her name anymore. He knew her too well to ask something so… so introductory.
“Here’s your coffee,” he told her.
She felt this pushing urge to be closer to him, to step fully inside his magnetic field, but she never did. She secretly hoped he would ask her for her name and maybe a date, too. No, that’d be crazy. Not a date. Just a name.
He handed her the hot coffee and he tried to maneuver his finger to overlap hers when he handed it to her, but it never worked. One time he almost dropped the entire cup of coffee. He wanted to say something, but how can you start up a conversation when you’ve known someone for half a year and don’t even know their name?
Every Monday before getting out of her car, she’d sigh and breathe in deeply. It’ll be today. I’ll say something special today. Something extra. I’m gonna do it. I will.
She walked inside, put her hand on the edge of his magnetic field and couldn’t do it. Her head and her heart in unison were screaming at her, “Say something! Anything!” But all that came out was “I’ll have a regular coffee.”
She wanted to know if they had things in common-- if they both loved the smell of tennis balls, if they both made their beds each morning, if they both loved classical music when studying. She wanted to know if they both hated Tuesday’s, if they both hated people with blonde hair and brown eyebrows, if they both hated wearing socks while they slept.
He wanted to know where her tickle spot was, he wanted to know if her hair curled up when she got out the shower, he wanted to know which side of the bed she slept on.
One Monday Rosalyn didn’t show up.
She put her translucent hand on the edge of the window and stared at him. Stared at Levi.
Her mouth moved, “If only I would’ve said something. Anything.”
Cop cars and ambulances whizzed by the coffee shop. A semi driver dozed off and hit a white car head on. She was instantly dead.
All they had in common was coffee.