Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 99545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
But.
That would be a lie.
I cannot keep my eyes off that door.
I don’t know why part of me keeps expecting Jack to blow in and surprise me with his presence, to keep me company and make me laugh.
Uninterrupted, I’ve been here for at least an hour, and I’m on my second espresso of the day. Laptop, notebook—all the usual suspects in this booth in the corner of the room, far away from all the bustle of the coffee shop yet right in the thick of it, too. I can see everything from this vantage point, including that door.
No one has bothered me, if you don’t count the server who checks up periodically.
I cannot keep my eyes off that door.
Ugh.
What am I expecting? I don’t even know the guy—we’re not even friends!
Not to mention, as soon as I returned home from my cousin’s baby shower, Kaylee followed me around the house in an excited flurry—the kind you expect from someone with stars in their eyes—a flurry of flirty activity as she stood there in her cute sweatpants regaling me with tales from her weekend.
And Jack.
She can’t stop talking about how she bumped into him at a party. How he walked her home. How he came inside and they talked.
And then he…
Left.
She was disappointed, obviously; Jack is exactly her type and also playing hard to get, which makes him even more of a commodity in her eyes. My roommate loves a challenge, always has, and probably won’t stop pursuing him until she has at least kissed him once.
To be honest, she hasn’t exactly been forthcoming when it comes to details about their intimacy, so I actually have no way of knowing if they’ve made out or been physical. I’m just assuming they have not because I would have heard about it in detail.
Kaylee loves sharing information.
Deciding to put it out of my mind, I lower my head and put my technical pencil to my notebook paper, finishing the sketch I’ve been working on for a few days: a tiny alien wearing a helmet and fishing a robot out of a lake. On the shore behind him is a villain with horns; a mighty storm brews in the distance.
What the villain doesn’t know is that our tiny alien is here to save the earth, and the little robot he’s fishing out of the water is going to be his new sidekick.
I shade in the left side of his helmet, lost in thought.
I haven’t given him a name, but he is round and cute and looks unassuming—he will definitely be underestimated in this story, a lesson the villain will soon learn the hard way. Maybe not in this book, but one that will follow.
This little critter is a lot like me, I suppose, a bit underrated and cute. Unassuming.
Living with two knockouts has always been something of a self-esteem issue for me—Kaylee and Lilly are uber self-assured and never without a boy at their side. It’s not that I think having a boyfriend is going to make me whole, but I do often wonder what it would bring into my life that I don’t already have.
I tap the technical pencil on my chin, thinking. Hmm. My roommates don’t always seem happy when they have boys around. In fact, Lilly seems miserable most of the time.
I’ve heard her crying in her room almost as much as I hear her on the phone fighting with Kyle, the guy she’s been dating for the last four months.
The same four months I’ve been working on my little comic book, which is not anywhere near completion, its funny, well-thought-out characters now jumping off the pages at me with a wink.
Cartooning may not be my career, but it will always feed my soul.
I get back to work, absentmindedly reaching for a tea cup set off to my right, my table full of glasses.
Espresso cup. Water glass.
Tea cup.
One plate, two plates.
So thankful I am in a booth, for a table simply would not do…
The door opens.
I glance up.
A familiar face lingers, but not the one I’ve been hoping to see.
“Kaylee?” I say it out loud although she is still too far away to hear the words. What is she doing here? She’s never, not once set foot in this place; it seems suspicious that she would be here now.
She raises her eyes and scans the restaurant.
Her mouth smiles when she catches sight of me.
Begins walking over, messenger bag slung across her body. For a Saturday, she is a little too dressed up—cute jeans and a blouse, hair down and curled. She’s not wearing a lot of makeup, but she still has put in effort—as if she is expecting to see someone here?
Someone that’s not me?
Sneaky, Kaylee…I know what you’re doing.
I make a show of clearing a spot so if she orders something there will be room for the server to set it down. And who knows, maybe she is here to see me—stranger things have happened.