The Meet Cute

Copyright Azalea Bennette/N.G Jefferson

 

Lightning, crashes of thunder, and misty air never made my heart soar. A giant boom filled this little restaurant’s silence, and prickles sprouted across my skin like spiders crawling around me. Tables shook, chairs fell over. Tears lined my lower eyelids, but letting them fall in public would be a worse nightmare. A flash of light, as bright as a sclera, enveloped the outside world for a millisecond before disappearing.

“Ms. Scarlette?”

My head whipped away from the rain-covered window, meeting the eyes of the restaurant’s owner, Jeffred, a black man who was likely in his sixties, judging by the grey hairs atop his head.

“Ms. Scarlette?” he asked again. “Are you alright?”

I hid the quiver in my voice. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I looked back to the window. “How long will the storm be here?”

“The news says around an hour.” Shit, I thought. Jeffred tilted his head toward my table. “Feel free to order some food or another drink if you’d like.”

“Thank you.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jeffred walked back to the kitchen. Scanning the vicinity of the place, all who remained were him, a white man sitting at a booth across the restaurant, and me.

Green and grey chairs perched beside dark brown tables. Some chairs accompanied tables with matching coloured booths on the other side. Overhead lights glowed above each seating arrangement. Pictures of fish, shrimp, sharks, and other sea animals hung on the wooden walls. Light piano music played softly in the background. The scent of bagels, croissants, and pancakes wafted around. I could still taste the two waffles I’d eaten earlier before deciding to sit here.

Too busy people-watching, I didn’t realize customers were leaving the restaurant to escape the brewing storm. I should have been smarter and left too. Fuck, now I was stuck here, forced to listen to the chaos that unfolded behind the windows.

Across the space, I caught sight of the random white man again. Dark stubble beard matched his neck-length hair that was almost black; skin light-beige. Under the bright overhead light, the colour of his eyes was difficult to tell. In his small nose, a septum ring pierced the skin. Chest muscles bulged beneath his shirt, and his long legs, even though sitting, gave away his tall height. Near the neckline of his shirt, lines of a tattoo shone.

The entirety of my life, in all my years living in this town, never have I seen this man before. Maybe he just moved here? Damn, bad luck to move here and have a storm at the same time.

My insides twisted when the man looked up from his phone, surveyed the building, and landed his eyes on me. Mouth agape, electricity coursed through my veins, like doctors shocking a lifeless heart.

Fuck, I thought, he caught me staring. Not like I could help myself. He’s…gorgeous.

My mind was a circus, thoughts juggling one another, bouncing from one to the next. Against all the screams not to, I raised my palm and waved, my mouth falling into a small smile.

Stiffening, Gorgeous man showed zero sign of movement for ten heartbeats. I lowered my hand, attempting to focus on the table. In the corner of my eye, I could feel his stare. Should I look back? I thought. No, I shouldn’t. He’ll look away eventually.

No. No, he wouldn’t. His gaze was like the government's—always watching, and indifferent to whether you knew it or not. Sweat beaded on my scalp and palms. My heart pounded against my sternum.

You know what? I’m gonna go speak to him.

Ambling over to Gorgeous Man’s table, the floor creaked below my feet. He looked back down at his phone, he didn’t have time to act like he wasn’t staring. I was standing right next to him.

“Hello?” I said. “Why were you staring at me?”

Gorgeous man didn’t look up. Instead, he clicked and typed away on his device.

My voice grew louder. “Excuse me?”

His body flinched. Finally looking up, those mysterious eye colours glued to my own. One was green and the other blue. Shockingly beautiful despite how different they were.

“Hi?” the man whispered. 

“Why were you staring at me?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were.” I offered a tiny but nervous chuckle.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes. You. Were.”

He turned off his phone and faced me completely. "Well, you were staring at me first.”

“Okay, but that was only for, like, a few seconds. At least I waved when you caught me.”

His brow raised. “Was that supposed to be an apology?”

“What else was it supposed to be? Now you have to apologize.”

He blew out a breath then whispered, “Fine. Sorry, I was staring.”

“There.” I grinned. “Was that so hard?”

“I can take it back, you know.” The corner of his mouth curled into a tiny smirk.

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

A monstrous boom crashed outside once again. The building shook, and more chairs tipped over, like cows being pushed. A tingle ran down my spine, and my eyes blinked rapidly. My fingernails bit into my palms so hard, I could’ve drawn blood. Raindrops covered the windows, blurring the view outside.

Another crash of thunder sounded, and my heart rate wouldn’t lower. I didn’t even realize my body turned to stone.

Gorgeous man looked to the window, then back to me. “Afraid of the storm?”

I released a long breath through my nose. “Don’t tell anyone.” I opened my eyes to peer down at his mix-matched ones. They were so beautiful.

“I won’t,” he chuckled. “I mean, who would I even fucking have to tell?”

“Jeffred?”

“I’m not telling the owner.”

“Okay good.” I fake wiped sweat from my brow. “Maybe you are trustworthy after staring at me for ten minutes.”

His lips dipped in a frown, eyes rolling. “That was not ten minutes. Besides, you stared at me longer.”

“Sure, sure.” Taking a breath, my gaze swerved to the window again. The wet glass obscured my view of the world. My hands trembled, breaths short. I crossed my arms, thinking, Maybe I could bypass the time by talking with this guy? Would he be okay with that?

My eyes fell to Gorgeous man. Ask and find out.

“Can I sit with you?” I said, attempting to hide the nerves in my voice.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We can just talk?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

“Thanks.”

I sat down in the booth opposite him, my knee bouncing, lips pressed to the side. What should I say?

“So. What’s your name?”

He folded his arms over his chest. “What’s yours?”

“I asked you first.”

“Wasn’t the question.”

I groaned, eyes rolling. Although his looks were hot, this guy’s personality provoked me. “Do you act like this all the time?”

He looked down to the table. Something I couldn't name flashed across his features for a quick second—lips falling into a frown, skin creasing between furrowed brows. But as quick as his expression changed, it morphed back to normal, and he looked back up at me. “My name’s Arthur.”

What was that? “Surprisingly nice name for a smartass.”

“Still haven’t said yours.”

I took a deep breath, the cool air filling my lungs. “It’s Aaliyah.”

A smirk curled his lip. “Are you lying and matching the ‘A’ in my name?”

“No.” Though my eyes rolled, a smile hid behind it. “You’re not that special; come on.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. The sound sent shivers down my spine. Unraveling his arms, Arthur stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I nodded. “Of course, I’d like to know. I wouldn’t’ve asked if I didn’t care.”

Arthur’s lips rose into a smile, eyes holding a playful glint. “You’re really something.”

“So are you,” I said, grinning. “Now answer my question.”

“What are you? The FBI?”

“I could be and ask as many questions as I want to right now.” Fingers tightening around each other, I leaned forward. The table’s edge dug into my skin like tiny bugs biting me. “Or I could be just some random woman you met and had a nice conversation with. So…which one will it be?”

Arthur challenged my stare, his twinkling eyes making my heart flutter. “I’ll take the random woman I met and had a conversation with.”

“Not a nice one?” I leaned back.

He smirked. “I don’t foresee you being a nice person, Aaliyah.”

“Well, Arthur,” I scoffed, “I actually am. It’s just when people like you make me annoyed, I get a little snappy.”

“Clearly.” His eyes rolled. “So, which one will it be? FBI or speaking to a random man and having a nice conversation?”

I shrugged. “To be honest, I actually prefer both.”

“Seriously?”

“No. Let’s just have a nice conversation and get to know each other while this storm is attacking God knows what.”

 This time, he shrugged. “Fine.”

“Fine. So, where did you move from?”

“Chicago.”

My brows raised. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “Wanted a fresh start somewhere else.”

“You came to Virginia for a fresh start?”

“Why not?”

I glanced at the window. “I could think of a few reasons.”

“Always lived here?”

“Yep. Born and raised. It’s not as great a place as you think.”

Arthur leaned forward. “Why?”

“It’s boring.”

“I like boring.”

“You seem like a boring person, so it makes sense.” He actually didn’t. If I’d thought he was boring, this conversation would cease to exist.

His soft laugh drew shivers to my arms like cold air scaling the length of my skin. “And you seem a little extra, but you don’t hear me saying anything about it.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, the ends of my mouth lifting.

Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he rested his arms on the table. “My turn to ask you something.”

“Oh no,” I groaned.

~

Thirty minutes passed, but time stood still as Arthur and I spoke. Everything else faded away, and all I could see was his beaming gaze. All I could hear were his words, laughter, and the long breaths he took while listening to me. I almost forgot about the storm.

Our conversation wasn’t long, but my heart told me I liked him a little. My head, however, was reasonable. You just like talking to him, that's all, I thought. He’s the only other person here. You like the company.

But which one was more true?

Breaking my train of thought, Arthur asked, “Okay. Let’s try another deep question.”

For every few questions, we agreed one of us could ask something beyond a normal “getting to know each other” question.

I nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Are you happy with your life?”

“Interesting question. Why ask that?”

Arthur shrugged. “Just curious. From what you’ve said, you’re twenty-four, live alone, have lots of pets, have a job you love. Does it all make you happy?”

I paused. “Kind of?”

“Kind of?” he repeated.

“I mean, I think I’m happy, but... I don’t know. I feel like I’m missing something. Something to keep me on the edge of my toes. I don’t know.” Why did I admit that? “Fuck, does that sound strange?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. I feel that way sometimes.”

“You’re mocking me, now?”

His hands shook in front of him. “No, no, no, I swear. I do get how you feel. Sometimes it seems like we have everything we could want, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. There’s always something else missing.”

My eyes rolled. “See? Now you just make us sound greedy.”

He laughed, and it shouldn’t have been contagious. “You know what I mean.”

Sobering from my own laughter, I nodded. “What stops you from being happier?”

“I honestly don’t know. It’s like there’s this thing in my life that’s missing, but I can’t pinpoint what. You?”

“Same,” I whispered.

For a few heartbeats, neither of us said anything, our gazes locked on each other. His lips hinted a smile, and those mix-matched eyes glimmered, like sparkling lights during Christmas. Eye contact was difficult, but with this man, I couldn’t look away. He was mesmerizing.

Tucking a curl behind my ear, I bit my lip. “Um, so, why did you decide to move here? Why do you like boring?”

Arthur glanced down, then back to me, a real smile forming. “Is that your deep question? Or should I say questions because you asked two?”

“Answer both. And yes, those are my deep questions.”

His chest rose and fell with his next inhale. “Chicago gave me a lot of headaches. Wanted to move away, start a life on my own without my family’s luxuries.”

“Rich kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Certainly couldn’t tell.”

His brow raised.

“No, seriously, I couldn’t. Were the tattoos and piercings a rebellious thing?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nah, not really. Got them ‘cause I thought they were cool. I never got to dress the way I wanted when I was a kid, so when I hit adulthood, I found someone to ink and pierce me.”

Confusion hit me. “How old are you again?”

“Same age as you.”

I scoffed. “Definitely don’t look it.”

He returned it. “You don’t either, but you don’t hear me calling you old.”

Against myself, I laughed. “I wasn’t calling you old. You look like you’re close to eighteen.”

Light pink stained his cheeks. “I'll take back my joke then.”

Sobering from the laughter, I asked, “What was your reaction to my comment about?”

“Which one?”

“When I asked, ‘Do you always act like this?’ You looked a bit sad. What happened?”

I caught the slight twitch to his jaw. “Were you thinking about that this entire conversation?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

The side of his lips curled upwards. “Glad to know my sadness affects you.”

“Would you answer the fucking question?” I nearly groaned.

He giggled, looking back down at the table. “Many people ask me that question.” Arthur’s eyes met mine again, and a warmth spread across my skin, sinking deep into my chest. “Some can’t understand my personality and get frustrated.”

My brows furrowed. “Really?”

He nodded. “Surprisingly, you wanted to sit with me and have a conversation because most wouldn’t. Most of the time, my family couldn’t stand me.”

“Why not? I mean, you were a little annoying at first,” I joked, “but you seem nice the more I talk to you.”

Before he answered, he looked behind me. It made me realize how much I enjoyed his eyes on me. He said, “Story for another day.” Climbing out of the booth, something pricked at my heart.

“Where are you going?”

He pointed to where he looked. “Look outside.”

Out the window, the sun returned, casting a brilliant glow of sunlight. The grey clouds disappeared and were replaced by puffy white ones, like cotton balls stuck to the light blue sky.

Air filled my lungs more smoothly, my hands ceasing their shakes. My mouth lifted in a smile, but the instant the realization hit my heart, the smile disappeared. Arthur and I were done speaking. He was standing to leave.

As I stood, my lips pinched. Arthur looked down at me, my head barely reaching his chin. I drew my trembling bottom lip between my teeth and tilted my head up to meet his gaze. Tears bit my eyes, bile rising in my throat. Why did I enjoy talking to him so much that I wanted to cry? It was just one conversation with a stranger.

Because you do like him, my thoughts replied. And you want to get to know him more.

Arthur and I spoke about what our lives might be missing, like a puzzle piece hidden from the full picture. Maybe I was missing a friend? A close friend? A relationship?

“It was nice to meet you, Aaliyah,” Arthur said.

I nodded stiffly. “Yeah. You too.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. “Can I, uh, can I get your number?”

My mouth gaped.

He scratched the back of his neck, cheeks flushing pink. “And if you find you can stand me a little longer, do you think we could go on a real date sometime?”

The sadness playing in my heart, like a sad song on repeat, slowly dissolved and was replaced by warmth.

He liked me too?

Heart backflipping, I said, “I’d love to.”

Arthur handed me his device, and I inputted my number into a new contact. He sent a test-text, and my phone pinged.

I couldn’t stop smiling. There were times when fear consumed me so completely that nothing else was in my vision. But with Arthur in my view, I felt ready to take a leap and try something new.

~Five years later~

Bright sun rays beamed against the shiny, crystal blue-green ocean. Warm sand danced under my toes, calming my nerves. White, wooden floorboards dipped beneath my weight as I stepped onto them. Arthur stood underneath tree branches adorned with dark pink, purple, and red flower petals, forming an arch. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and trousers with a white undershirt. Our friends and family sat on white pillows atop white seats.

When Arthur’s eyes met mine, a smile stretched across my face. Time slowed as I glided down the aisle. Arthur’s mix-matched eyes gleamed, a smirk curling his lip. I wore a large, puffy white dress, making me look like a princess. In one hand, I held a bouquet of flowers, in the other, my dad’s arm.

A few days after the storm, Arthur and I went on our first real date. We escalated to dating, then agreed to a relationship. Neither of us had ever been in something so serious. We both feared connection, giving ourselves completely to another person without knowing if we’d be hurt in the end. Fun, meaningless activities were our norm before we met each other. But when someone filled your heart so fully and made you happier than you ever thought possible, you knew it was right. We fell deeply in love, and now we’re here—getting married. Asking for a better start to our relationship was impossible.

As we said our vows, pushing the ring onto each other’s fingers, thoughts spoke. Who knew one day in the storm would lead to this?

“You may now kiss the bride,” our efficient said, finally.

With a blush in his cheeks, Arthur pulled my veil out of my face and cupped my face with his hands. “I love you,” he whispered.

I had the answer to my head’s question.

Neither of us did, nor did we regret it.

“I love you,” I whispered. My new husband leaned forward and pressed his soft lips to mine.

The End