A Week In The Life

Every Thursday, she sits at her usual table in the local coffee shop. The waiter is preparing her salted caramel latte and scone with strawberry jam. She stares absent-mindedly at her laptop and the words on the screen start to a play a game as she gets lost in her thoughts.

‘Here ya go, sweetheart. Your coffee and scone’, said the waiter, startling her and bringing her back to reality.

‘Thank you. Sorry, I was lost in my own wee world there’, she said as she starts spreading the jam over the scone.

The waiter gives a throaty chuckle and a look to say that we have all been there. Her Thursday afternoon is going how it usually does. People-watching from her little corner as passers by on the street run for their trains and buses. The distant sound of local buskers carrying under the tunnel and the patter of rain on the glass windows. A smile crosses her face as the elderly couple shuffle past laughing together. She imagines that would be her in about 50 years' time, telling silly jokes with the love of her life and best friend. It has been a long time since she thought about love. Bad experiences. Heartbreak. A busy schedule with university and a part time job. These are the excuses she gives herself anyway. The shop doorbell rings with customers coming and going. But there is something familiar about this voice ordering their coffee. The softness in his voice and the politeness of his interactions. She could not see his face but his coal-black hair with the noticeable lightning bolt scar on the back of his head, she knows it must be him. 5 years have passed since she last saw him and suddenly, her comfortable little coffee shop transported her back to that 18-year-old girl whose heart had been broken by her high school boyfriend breaking up with her. Suddenly, he turns around thanking the waiter as he picks up his coffee to go and their eyes lock.

He has not changed at all. An awkward smile appears on his face that causes his over-sized glasses to pop up. She can see even from 10 feet apart his crystal blue eyes still light up the room. She can see that he is walking towards her table and begins to panic. Should she stand up? Will they hug? Or perhaps an awkward handshake after all these years. Her thoughts are moving quicker than a bullet train and she takes a second to compose herself by focusing on the rain drop inching its way down the window. She feels her attention turning back to this familiar stranger standing at the other end of the table and before she knows it, they have a warm embrace, albeit quickly as his rain-soaked coat caught her cheek. They both smiled and sit down at the table together. A few seconds pass and she can no longer hear the buskers in the distance or the passers by on the street, only the drum-like sound of her heart.

‘How long’s it been? 5 years? Seems like just yesterday we had our ties round our heads and getting everyone to sign our shirts on the last day?’, he said trying to gather his thoughts and hide his excitement at seeing her once more.

‘Yeah, 5 years. It’s crazy, eh? Ha that was a crazy day. I think that shirt will still be in my parent’s loft somewhere. You know me, a wee hoarder’, she said jokingly and somehow feeling at ease already.

The feelings she has been burying for 5 years were rising to the surface and the butterflies in her stomach returned. They continue talking for 10-15 minutes catching up on life. She tells him about her history course as well as her part time job in the cinema. He jokes about getting free film tickets and popcorn. He tells her about his job as a mechanic and working in his dad’s garage near the South Side of Glasgow. He asks about her plans after university, and she fills him on her plans of travelling abroad for a year and coming back to go into teaching. She notices his attentiveness to everything she is saying, something that might have been missing before. She is still more reserved sitting with one leg on top of the other and her hands clasped around her coffee mug. She popped the laptop back into the bag and for the first time, she notices his hands have been inching across the table only a few inches from hers. She is trying to focus on the conversation, but she wonders if her life would be any different if they had stayed together. Would she still come to this coffee shop after class every Thursday? Would he meet her here as part of the weekly tradition? Or they would have traditions of their own. Suddenly, she feels a brush against her finger, and he has tapped her hand.

He is staring into her deep brown eyes as he catches her up on everything over the last 5 years. Her fiery auburn hair is exactly how he remembers as well as the dimple on her right cheek. He struggles to understand how these years have passed and yet nothing has changed between them. He notices her distance over the table, but he finds himself now looking at her hands desperate to interlock their fingers again. She has that longing gaze in her eyes, and he knows she is thinking of a million different scenarios right now. Should he reach out and tap her hand? Just to bring her attention back onto the conversation he never wants to end. He can feel the tension building up inside him like a volcano ready to erupt and before he knows it, his hand is now on top of hers. They both stare at each other once again, thinking this is all just a dream and they could wake up at any moment.

Unfortunately, reality does strike as she quickly checks her phone, and she has 10 minutes to make her train back to Hamilton for dinner at her mums. She does not want to leave. She could stay here all night looking at him and getting lost in her thoughts. She wants to see him again, but the words are caught in her throat. The pain she went through was real but that was a boy who made those choices. This is a man sat in front of her who seems very mature now. She tells him about having dinner with her mum and that she will have to go. It is hopefulness for her, but she senses disappointment on his part of this news. She feels the words escaping her mouth like a bird flying for the first time.

‘Can I see you again? I’ve enjoyed this afternoon and would love another catch up if you’re up for it?’.

‘I would love that. Here, take my number. It’s still the same one from high school if you can believe it’, he said trying to control his excitement and keep it casual.

He would not need to read that number out to her. She remembers knowing it off by heart for 2 years in high school. But she pretends to take a copy of it in her phone. As she is leaving, they hug once more, a much tighter embrace than before as if they are trying to piece each other back together. She leaves the coffee shop, and he remains sitting at the table processing what has just happened. He knows the heartbreak he caused her. He was told, many times but back then, he thought he was making the right decision for them both. They both had to go and live their lives out with their relationship and discover who they were as individuals. Now, on this random Thursday afternoon at a coffee shop he rarely goes into, fate could be working in his favour, if he even believes in that. His imagination is getting the best of him, and he just realises he does not have a contact number for her. She never gave him one. Perhaps, she will send a message in a day or two since she did say she is busy right now.

It is the following Wednesday and he has not heard from her. Maybe nerves got the best of her. Maybe she cannot forgive him for breaking up with her. Either way, curiosity is working its way into his head, and he has his phone in his hand clicking on Facebook. He finds her profile quite quickly and he can see many of her posts over the last couple of years. She is not lying. She comments a lot about her course and what appears to be a running joke with her colleagues in the cinema. She shares a lot of daily quotes, and he can feel the heaviness of what she has been through. He looks through some pictures of the woman he loved and chuckles to himself when he sees Halloween just a few months ago. Her obsession with Mario is still going strong and the red outfit shines above everything else. He clicks on the message button and finds himself staring at an empty box trying to make his fingers work. Should he say hi? But she has had opportunities to message and has not so maybe she changed her mind about meeting again. He talks himself out of it. He has locked his phone and somehow it has ended up bouncing off his bed onto the floor. He throws himself onto his bed staring at the fractured ceiling and wishing for a ping to come through on his phone.

As Thursday came, she is sitting at her table overwhelmed by the week that has occurred. A couple of deadlines, a busy weekend at work and it seems she misread the signs, and he does not want to see her again. She texts him last Thursday night after dinner saying how much she enjoyed their chat and did not hear back. Again, on the Sunday afternoon asking how he is and if he is free anytime soon, to no avail. She tried to convince herself to forget that hour or so happened last week and to return to normal life. But everything is different now. She cannot look at the coffee shop now without hoping he is going to walk through the door. Or even sitting at the table and wishing his hands were inches away from hers once more. She has been coming to this shop for nearly 2 years every Thursday and not seen him before. Does he go in on a different day? Was it a one-off? No, she is putting it behind her and moving past it again, for her own sake. She winces at the thought of burying those feelings again but knows it is what needs to be done. She finds herself people-watching as usual. A sunnier day than last week as the beginning of April is approaching. The sun beams through the windows as it lowers, and she turns her back to the window facing the door.

She is dreaming or she thinks she is. She can see him walking up to the door and coming into the coffee shop. There is no hesitation on either side this time. They embrace in a hug so tight; they could be the same person. As they sit at the table, they awkwardly chuckle at each other as she accidentally got the last 2 digits of his number mixed up and he enjoyed the Mario getup.

‘I honestly don’t know how I managed it. I had that memorised in high school. It’s weird how your brain can mix things up for us! You shoulda messaged me on Facebook for sure’, she said embarrassed and relieved that he is sitting in front of her again.

‘Yeah, I know that now. I got so nervous thinking you were being nice when you said you wanted to see me again. I just took a chance you might be here again today’, he said gleefully.

As they were sitting once more at the table, their hands interlocked and unable to wipe away the huge grins on their faces, they know for sure that fate is working for them. The waiter comes over with her usual and gives a wry smile which they both nod their heads at. 5 years had passed, and they continued their lives so close but so far apart from each other. But in this big and wonderful world, it only took a week for them to fall in love all over again. Even with a few bumps along the way.

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