Misconstrue

"SEVEN years. Why seven?

"We meet again." I look up to see a dimpled smile, "Lady Spice."

I roll my eyes playfully at him but pocket my phone anyway. "This is absolutely dreadful."

He chuckles as he looks pass me. "Yeah, I don't know if it's because the cashier's slow or that customer has way too much stuff."

I tilt as I look ahead as well, I make a face as I spot the crowded conveyor belt and a frustrated cashier. "People who work in customer service deserve the world."

I look back at him to see him agreeing with a smile. "I worked in retail during uni and it was the worse."

I giggle at that. "I can only imagine."

Thankfully, I managed to secure a job on-campus at the bookstore so working part-time while studying wasn't that bad at all. 

"So, what's for dinner?" His eyes are back at my overloaded basket. "That's really a lot of spices."

"Okay so." He smiles softly at the tone of my voice. "My roommate picked up some mackerel a few weeks ago and since he has no idea about cooking seafood, I have to save him."

Christopher nods with a hum. "So will it be used in some kind of soup?" 

I shake my head as I push the basket with my foot once a bit of space opens up before me. "No, it'll be cooked over medium heat for a while, and with my many spices, it'll even have its own sauce when it's done."

I smile triumphantly thinking about it, as I had a hard time learning the recipe in the first place. "Sounds delicious now that I think about it. Do you eat it with rice?"

I shake my head. "It tastes better with food like yams, potatoes, pumpkin and any other ground provision that can be boiled."

He nods at that. "Your roommate's quite lucky to have a cook like you in the house."

If I was many shades lighter, he would've seen the blush on my cheeks, thank you melanin. I'm not really blushing since he's complimenting my recipe, but it's the way how his eyes are sparkling and that dimpled smile of his that's making me feel extremely shy.

He's so good looking.

The conversation dies as it's my turn to be checked out, and once that's done Christopher and I part ways with wishes of good luck for dinner. Sadly, the feeling that was coursing through me while talking to him vanished when I realized that my Uber's delayed. 

An empty bench outside the supermarket becomes my saviour. With the bags of groceries beside me, I sit with crossed legs as I decide to wait patiently. 

It's times like these that I regret not having a car, it's not that I can't afford a car at this time, but I've failed the road test too many times. That's the only test I've ever failed in my entire existence and every time I think about it, I just get so pissed.

Driving with a total stranger who's only purpose is to grade your technique on the spot doesn't sit too well with me at all. I get so nervous that my fingers become cold to the touch, and I end up freezing up and freaking out while on the road. 

I don't even want to think about my many reactions when a truck passes by on the roadway.

"Still here?" I turn to see Christopher standing by the exit. "You're good?"

I nod my head. "Yeah, just waiting for my Uber."

"Cool, my friend's on his way." He takes a deep breath. "I know this might sound weird, but is it okay if I get your number?"

I freeze, a handsome black man asking me for my digits? I'd be a fool if I refuse.

I nod with a small smile. "Yeah, sure."