VANILLA BULLSEYE
(A fiction by Cella)
The sun burst through the grey rainclouds. White light moved through the dark wood blinds and reflected against his face as he peered out the window, waiting for Danny to arrive. He looked at his watch. I can't believe he did it to me again, he thought. Why do I do this to myself? Isn't there anyone I can trust to meet me during my lunchtime? Why do I always pick flaky friends? Man, I hate eating alone in a restaurant.
She sat at the counter, watching him through the mirror behind the bar. She couldn't take her eyes off of him since he sat down in that dark-brown booth halfway across the restaurant. She had a great view of him, but the small wall behind her kept her out of his direct line of sight.
He must be waiting for a girl, she thought. Darn it. He looks so cute with all those freckles and that baby-blue sweater. I can't make out what's printed on it, though. Blue and red something. God, I wish I had enough nerve...
She watched him speak to the waiter. He looks disappointed. Could he have been stood up? Oh, she'll probably walk in the door any minute and that'll be that. He looks like the forgiving type.
The waiter approached the bar and spoke with the counterman. He grabbed a tall, thick glass and a long metal cup, then opened a small glass-top freezer. For a little bit, she couldn't see what he was doing, but figured it out when she heard the mixer roar. He must've ordered a milkshake. Well, he seems thin enough; he wouldn't have to worry about the calories.
The counterman walked again to the end of the bar and set down a white shake and the now-frosty metal cup. “Order up!”
She stared quizzically at the glass. What kind of shake is that? Could that be just plain vanilla? Who orders a vanilla shake? That has to be something like cookies and creme, but I don't see any specks in it from here. She looked back into the mirror.
He heard the counterman and saw his shake at the end of the bar. Boy, that looks good. His stomach growled a bit. The temptation grew with every minute that passed.
She stared at him, staring at the shake.
Where's the waiter? they both wondered.
The barstool seemed to at once push her off and keep her glued. Do I or don't I? He could have a girlfriend. She could walk in any minute. God, I want to...but I just can't.
Her heart sunk. She knew he'd get away from her and she'd never know who he was. Her fear kept her locked onto the stool, so she just looked back into the mirror. At least for now, she still had his reflection...still looking at his shake.
Turn your eyes right. Look in the mirror just for a second. You're about the most beautiful boy I've ever seen. Where's Cupid's arrow when I need it? Please help me out here!
Suddenly her view was blocked. “How's everything here?”
She jumped a bit, then focused on the counterman. “I'm sorry, what?”
“Does the sandwich taste ok? You've hardly touched it.”
“Yeah, it's fine, thanks. I'm...just taking my time.”
“Ok, well if you need anything just holler.” He craned his neck and scanned the restaurant for the absent waiter. “Order up!”
The sudden exclamation startled her. She looked back in the mirror. He wasn't in the booth. Her heart raced as she moved her head left just as he reached for the shake and cup.
“I've got it, thanks,” he said.
“I'm sorry about that,” the counterman replied. “I don't know where your waiter went.”
He politely smiled. “That's all right. It's the way my day's been going anyway.”
The little voice inside her grew loud. Say something to him. Say something before he goes away! You'll kick yourself if you don't try. You only live once.
“They...have great food here,” she said, “but the service is lousy.”
He turned to the voice and had to grip the cups. A bright, crooked smile lit his face. He took a couple steps closer to her.
“Well, I wouldn't call it lousy, but I know what you're saying,” he replied. “They do make a great vanilla shake here.”
Wow, you're even more gorgeous with a smile, she thought, yet somehow managed a reply. “Really? I've never even heard of a vanilla shake. I mean, what's the point? Shouldn't it have chocolate or fruit or crumbled cookies in it or something?”
He sat half his lanky body on the stool two away from her. “Oh no, the flavor's fantastic all on its own, especially when you find a place that makes a good one.”
“I...guess I'll have to try one someday.”
“You should,” he replied. “Once you go vanilla, you'll never go back.” Like I may never go back to my booth!
She chuckled and slid a bit of hair behind her ear. “That good, huh?”
“The best,” he smiled. “Um...would you mind if I sat here? My friend flaked out on me for lunch.”
Friend, she thought. That could be male or female, but he did say friend. Keep your cool, girl, you're doing fine.
“Sure, go ahead.”
The alarm on her watch went off just as he got comfortable on the stool. Oh no, not now. She touched a small button.
“Oh goodness, time already. I...have to get back to work.”
She saw the same look of disappointment in his eyes that she saw earlier through the mirror. I can't just walk away now that he's here! What am I gonna...
“Listen, um...” he said as he squirmed on his stool. “This may be a little forward but...are you free for dinner tonight?”
She ducked her head, but not before he saw a spark in her eyes that made him all the more glad he took the chance.
“Dinner tonight? Sure. Ok. I...don't have much time to, um...”
“How about we just meet back here after work. Say 5:30?”
She sighed contentedly. He's really making this easy, but if my boss keeps me over...
“Is...is six o'clock ok?”
“Sure, six is fine. I'll see you then. You won't flake out on me now, will 'ya?”
She chuckled. “No, I don't do that.” She laid her money on the bar then looked toward the counterman. “Keep the change!” She looked back at him. My God, we're seeing each other after work!
Bright jade-green eyes accompanied his radiant smile. “Ok, well, you have a great afternoon.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
And thank YOU, Lord – thank you, Cupid! She looked down at his cozy blue sweater and finally noticed the design.
It was a red and blue target.
She took two steps forward and stood next to his stool. Without even thinking, her finger raised and touched the center of the design.
“Bullseye.”
At 5:55, she walked into the restaurant. She moved her head to the right and found that same radiant, crooked smile greeting her. He stood next to the same booth he had at lunchtime, wearing the same outfit, but it was now dressed up with an unusual blazer. It looked like corduroy, but it seemed a patchwork of stripes in fall colors and soft textures. A blazer that begged to be touched.
“Told 'ya I wouldn't flake.”
“That you did! I like a girl who keeps her promises.”
They both sat down in the booth and she smiled when she saw what was on the table. It was a vanilla shake...with two straws.
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~Reposted 6.8.2005~
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