Over Coffee

There was just something about him she could not figure out. She watched him from time to time as she peered over her coffee cup. She listened to his stories about his village in Honduras told entirely in Spanish with an occassional "you understand?" thrown in there to see if she was listening. And she was, to every single word he was saying she hung on even if in reality she didn't understand. She moved the stirrer in her coffee around around her coffee cup trying to distract her from his gazing eyes-ones that said he admired her which frightened her terribly. She didn't know what to make of him. To her he was just another man who had cat-called her on the street, but one who hadn't given up for the past year. Finally, she decided to give him a chance over coffee and she wasn't sure how to feel. She smiled shyly and pushed her short soft hair out of her eyes and grabbed her coffee with both hands. She looked around the restaurant and caught the stares of the cooks behind the counter who was smiling at her. She quickly focused her attention back to her company and began talking about school. He had gone and finished secondary school in Honduras but didn't have enough money to finish college. "Honduras has colleges? I thought they were a third worl country that didn't have anything. Oh well," she thought. He was eight years her senior and didn't know if talking about her goals would turn him off so she didn't. She stayed quiet and let him stay in awe about how he could be in the company of such an intelligent, beautiful attentive and hardworking woman. She wanted to let him soak it all in. He drank his coffee quickly and she saw that as a reason to finish hers just as fast. She grabbed his left wrist and twisted it lightly to check the time. He smiled and asked her if she needed to get to work. She politely said yes and they headed for the door. Once in the cold winter day outside he rushed to the side of me closest to the street- an old hispanic manner. She likes this. She can't help but like him even though shes not supposed to. She likes the way he looks at her, speaks to her and looks at her. She goes to work after saying goodbye and thinks about him no more. Until she sees him again later that say, his sweet stories of Honduras and haunting gazes stall in the back of her mind.