Flower Boy (BoyxBoy)

xx

edd.

I HAVE NOT BEEN THIS ANXIOUS SINCE I MOVED FROM MAINE.  Of course, I haven't dated since then, but either way, the anxiety of meeting a man I don't know never left me.  My hands were shaking all day, even while I was visiting The Loft's stand in Market, when I dropped a pot of aloe vera on the floor.  I felt so awful, I kept apologizing but my boss shook her head and told me that everything was fine.  She told me to take better care of myself after I cleaned up my mess.

And then, unfortunately, I later met Kevin and his green-haired, gold jewelry-clad friend.  As if this day couldn't get any less lucky, I ran right into him and dropped all of my things in the process.  Kevin helped me pick them up, which made me consider the following:

1. Kevin is very kind.

2. He needs to stop being so kind to me, or I'll fall in love.

3. I might be falling for him.

We even stared at each other for a few seconds before he broke away... for some reason it gave me a feeling that we connected?  As if there was a spark?  I even thought he felt it too.  For a moment I almost contemplated not seeing Chris.

No, I tell myself.  It's useless.  He's straight.  It was just me.

After that incident, I went straight to the cafe, where I saw Chris already waiting at a table.  I smiled at him, which I guess he took as an invitation to walk up to me.  I watched him intently, studying him and his clean olive skin, thick black hair resting straight right above his eyebrows, and his long legs hidden under dark baggy denim.

"Hey," Chris said as he approached.  He's tall, but still a little shorter than me.

"Hello," I say back, biting my lip.  "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not at all," Chris replies, a gentle smile gracing his face.  His voice is deep and calm--a quality I appreciate very much. 

I nod and smile, putting my thumb in the loop of my backpack.  "Good."

It's quiet for a second, but not awkward; just us taking in the image of the other person and the sounds of what surrounds us. 

"So--" I say softly, which causes us to both break out of our trance.  "--If you don't mind, I must go to the lavatory quickly."

"Of course,"  he says.  "Can I get you something to drink?  Food?"

I think.  "Black coffee, please?"

"Of course," Chris smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turns.  I bite my lip and watch him go for a moment before maneuvering my way through the tables and people.  As I enter the men's bathroom, I go into the handicapped stall.  Getting my phone out first, I send a text to Eddy.

I just arrived at the cafe and
Chris was here--early!

OOO he already sounds like the one

That makes me smile.

As I washed my hands, I did my best to avoid my own gaze in the mirror, but it's hard not to look when it's right in front of you.  Suddenly, I can't look away.  After I dry my hands, I return back to the mirror, further back this time so I can analyze what I'm looking at.

It's me.  A tall, lanky teenager in his signature beanie and a black and pink floral button-up shirt.  I move my head from side to side, evaluating my jawline and the curve of my nose.  I smile, but it doesn't look right.  I try again, and again, and again until finally, I find a smile that fits my face better than the rest.