Second Look

No. There’s no chance of playing it cool. But in my defense, I’m nervous. Horribly nervous. All sweaty palms and jittery feet. And forget butterflies. It feels like a million eels are swarming and slithering round my stomach.

“It’s strange being here,” I stutter, shoving my quivering hands in my pockets. “Today, I mean.”

She doesn’t say a word. Just rattles the espresso machine and slams a cup of foamy coffee in front of me.

“Daisy. Cappuccino’s ready,” she calls out to the girl in the banana yellow coat, lurking by the door.

“So?” she yawns, slouching against the cash register. “What can I get you?”

“Well,” I croak, wishing my voice didn’t sound quite so hoarse and feeble. “Please could I…”

“Yes…”

I gulp, choking down the lump in my throat and glance at the chalk board behind her. Honestly, I thought I’d got past this. The pitiful, not knowing what to say stage. I squint at the menu, cheeks burning, the whooshing and gurgling of the coffee machine competing with the roaring in my ears.

I’d be perfectly okay if the ground opened up and swallowed me whole right now. Or if aliens swooped down and whisked me off to their spaceship. Anything to get out of this wretched situation.

“Could I please…” I mumble, dipping my head and peeping at her through my lashes. “Please could I have a ham salad on rye, no radishes.”

Normally she laughs and finishes the ‘no radishes’ bit for me. And we giggle at how I call them evil tomatoes and insist they should be made illegal. But not today. There’s no smiling, no banter. No sparkle in her wicked green eyes. She just flings the ham, tomato and lettuce between the slices of bread and slaps them together. It’s like she’s a completely different person. She’s acting like we’ve never met before.

Perhaps I’ve mistaken her friendliness for something else. Maybe the spark between us is all in my head. She probably doesn’t even remember my name. How could I have been so stupid.

She pops the limp looking sandwich into a paper bag and slides it towards me. I wish I’d never stopped by today. I don’t usually on a Friday because of the boring accounts meeting. But it was cancelled, and I wanted to see her and…

“That’ll be five pounds please…”

“How did it go at the dentist yesterday?” I blurt out, my hand flying to my forehead. Could I be any more boring.

She frowns, biting her lip: “Dentist?... I didn’t go to the dentist.”

“But I…”

“I think you’re getting us confused,” she smiles, turning to yell over her shoulder. “Millie. Millllllieeeeee.”

I blink when another girl rushes through from the kitchen. Same wild curly red hair. Same green eyes, except hers glint and dance in the light. And she’s grinning. At me.

“Danny,” she squeals. “What are you doing here on a Friday? I see you’ve met Katie. My twin.”