Rarer Than Bigfoot (pt3)
So writing this has been a proof of concept for me, namely that it’s completely possible to add chunks of story to a narrative on a daily basis. But now that splits my focus. I have unfinished stories on this thing. Do I give this one a break and go back to finish those or do I double down on this one, complete it and than apply the same methodology to older tales? I’m unsure, but would value your input. Anyway, here’s more story.
“I’ve got a vanilla latte and a green tea frappucino made with half and half for Marissa.” announced the barista.
The brunette retrieved her cup of socially acceptable chemical dependance and her friend’s cup of sugar and cream with a smile and a thank you. She hummed to herself as she made it back to their table.
“You’re in a chipper mood.” Connor observed.
“Am I?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
“ Maggie, you’re humming. You’re smiling even. A Maggie smile is rare nowadays.”
‘That’s because I use my smiling muscles too much at work.” she laughed.
“Fair enough. So what’s going on?”
“I don’t know. I just feel good. The weather’s nice, it’s my day off, and I get to see you.”
She smiled, admiring his hair again. Waves of chestnut cascading into the perfect frame for his face. This wasn’t the longest she’d seen him grow it out, there was a time when it reached past his shoulders, but it had gotten pretty long ove the summer. He scratched his chin absentmindedly, the lumps of charcoal he had for eyes lost in a bit of thought. She could already see the five o’clock shadow beginning to form, all the more visible on skin as light as his.The murmur of the cafe hung over them for a moment as they sipped their drinks.
“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” he finally asked.
“Fuck you.” she laughed.
“Yeah, thought so.” he chuckled. “Tell me about him.”
“Well I would, except he doesn’t exist.”
“Oh so you’re back with George Federico.” he smiled.
Her eyes half narrowed before she let out a sigh.
“When are you going to let that go?”
“Just this side of never” he said, gesturing with his hands.
“That was in junior high, and everyone had a fake Canadian boyfriend back then.”
“Not everyone had a fake picture and fake love letters to go with the backstory.”
“No one would have believed me otherwise. They’d have just thought I was making it up.”
“Which you were.”
“Yeah, but this way no one thought I was crazy for not chasing boys.”
“Because creating a paper trail for a fake boyfriend is something only sane people do.”
He waited, expectantly.
“What?” she half whined.
“Just tell me already.”
“Oh-my god. There’s no guy, so can we drop this? Please.”
He sighed, but relented. When it came to Margaret Baker, he was the sole expert. After all, they practically grew up together. The cues weren’t all that subtle, but they were there. She was crushing on someone, a co-worker probably given her lack of a social life. It had been a while since she had last shown interest in someone, years even. Long enough for Connor to not know how to feel about it. A cause for concern or celebration?
“So did you watch Love, Death, and Robots?” she finally asked.
“Yeah, I lost sleep over that second episode.” he admitted.
“Oh I know!”
Still the same Maggie, he thought. Crushes come and go. At least most of them do. Some you just can’t shake until… until you’re here.