Strings of Solace

Chapter 2

The days leading to Saturday felt endless and brief at the same time as I tried my best to form a plan of action, to figure out how I was even supposed to broach the subject. Logically speaking, I would need to do some small talk first, but even that felt terrifying.

I wasn't afraid of Stephen. I wasn't even sure what truly frightened me. Maybe it was embarrassing myself, his telling me that only a complete loser would ask something like that, or even his asking me to leave.

Why that would be scary for me was an issue I should have discussed with a psychologist or even a psychiatrist, but what I chose was... more... dramatic.

Saturday came much sooner than I expected, and it made me question all the decisions I had made in my life up to that point that led me to where I was, going to meet a guy I hadn't seen in years and ask him a question that, in my country, in my culture, was the one I'd never heard someone ask.

"What should I wear? Which set of clothes says I'm not a lunatic, don't worry, just a desperate woman?" I thought as I rummaged through my limited wardrobe. "Thinking about it, a desperate woman doesn't sound much better than a lunatic."

Finally, I chose my most boring outfit, hoping he wouldn't misinterpret that I wanted something different from what I had in mind. I paired it with my most sensible and dull-looking shoes (then again, those were the only shoes I had) and headed out.

Once outside, I realized I would be around twenty minutes early, but I didn't want to return to the apartment. It was stifling, as always. At least outside, I could take a walk and breathe fresh air while waiting for the appointment.

And although the fresh air soothed some of my worries, it wasn't nearly enough to keep my heart from trying to burst out of my chest like the creature from Alien. It was rather annoying, but it was also something I got used to because it happened every time I was nervous. And what I was about to do made me extremely apprehensive, as I knew it was stupid — that it could even be dangerous.

Despite my efforts to prolong my walk, I still ended up at the cafe fifteen minutes early, deciding I might as well go in and choose a good place with my back to the wall, defendable — a little quirk I had since I could remember.

The coffee shop was still the same after ten years since I last visited it. It was still a strange mixture of a restaurant and a nightclub, open at all hours of the day and the night. The sense of familiarity actually gave me some comfort, because although I hadn't gone out with them in high school, I had visited that coffee shop later in my life and knew what to expect.

Unfortunately, my newfound comfort was short-lived. As I scanned the place to find the best possible seat, my eyes glimpsed a familiar face. Thinking that I was imagining things, I turned in that direction and was proven right. There was someone I knew sitting in the farthest corner of the room.

Stephen.

He was early.

I observed him quietly for a few minutes without revealing my presence, re-familiarizing myself with his features.

He was of average height, with black hair that was longer than what was usual for guys in my country, but not too long. The ugliest glasses I had ever seen still hid his mahogany eyes, but they didn't completely mask his handsome features, or at least that's what others said. I never saw it. To me, Stephen was always an average-looking guy with above-average kindness.

Before I could fully notice the slight changes that the passing years had carved on his face, he lifted his head and saw me standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. The moment he did so, he waved at me, trying to get my attention, thinking I hadn't noticed him yet.