a girl and her thoughts - pt. II

2. Meet-Cute

A gushy, gooey, closeted hopeless romantic she may be, but a dim-witted dreamer, she is not. She calculates these things, how romanticism should play out in her life, and how people are supposed to act in response to it. People have said that she's way too observant for her own good, that she lacks the one thing that is required to complement that observation: action. Instead, she waits. She waits just long enough until her target finally crouches and admits defeat, and then and ONLY then, she will wave her hand, motioning him to come over and get her. Sounds perfect in theory.

Reality hasn't been so kind, though. Boys - alright, fine, men, if you insist - are basically like eels. Slippery. Elusive. Just when you think you've got them in a hook, they throw out some clever lines, complete with that damned lop-sided grin and twinkling eyes, to swiftly swim away from your grip. Mara thinks back to this man - really, more like man-boy - she met at Shelby's birthday party at The Bar. She was just minding her own business, sipping on her whiskey cola when he slid next to her and ordered a beer. In spite of herself, she chanced a look: tall, dark hair, brown eyes, with a sort of "aw, shucks, you callin' me good-lookin'?", devil-may-care attitude that make all women slobber all over him. Yeah, I think I'll pass, thought Mara dismissively. I'm not going to fall for this kind of cliche where he turns around and manages to spill his drink on me, then while I start cursing all kinds of curses known to mankind, he apologizes and we have this meet-cute set to 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'.

"Uh, I wouldn't choose that song, if I were you," said a voice, sounding amused, to her right. Mara stopped in her tracks and turned. The guy was holding his beer in place, facing her, his head tilted to the right. She narrowed her eyes at him and finally said, "Excuse me?"
"Yeah. 'I Want to Hold Your Hand'," he said offhandedly, waving his beer in a dismissive wave. "It's a cheery song, sure, and a classic. But not the one I'd use in a moment like this."
"How...?"
"I can read your mind," said the stranger, with a smirk. "Nah, you do realize you were basically saying all that stuff out loud, don't you?"
She stared at him, mouth open in horror. "How loud was I? How far did you hear? And what were you doing anyway, listening in like that?"
"Okay, A: you were actually just muttering nonsense, but you were close enough in my vicinity for me to listen in. B: I only heard from 'I'm not going to fall for this kind of cliche where...' etc etc, and C: again, you're right next to me. This place isn't that crowded."
She rolled her eyes. "Charming."
"Glad to be of service," he replies, smugly.
"Alright, I gave you some free entertainment," she raised her glass in mock salute. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."
"Whoa, hold up, where do you think you're going?" he extended his hand, stopping her from leaving. "No, you're going to stay here, because I need to be entertained some more."

(to be continued)

© Photo by Hian Oliveira on Unsplash