'momentum'
Well it wasn't fun, but at least it was over. The last of the layoffs completed, everyone at the company could breathe a sigh of relief and get back to actual work. This included me, and for the rest of March I buried myself in circuitry design. The lab techs and I were trying to trim the size of the portable duel disks and lighten the weight, to enhance user comfort, but until we received word from the engineers overseas then it was purely academic work. Grateful to be finished with all that bureaucratic management at last, I didn't mind in the least. At least this was productive.
Coffee girl was being productive too, or at least she assured me that she really was practicing her wrist lock releases during the week. At school, with her friends, who all thought my self-defense moves were just "super". When I asked if she'd showed them off to her brother, she got a little evasive.
"He'd want to know where I learned it," she said.
Yeah? So?
"So, I don't feel like telling him."
That clipped comment before she dove back into her book left me feeling a little strange. She didn't want to tell him about me, which meant there was something to tell. Was there? Technically, we hadn't done anything but share a table for half a year. I told myself that but the part of me that never settles for less than the truth knew something more was going on, and I didn't know whether I wanted to kill it or –
I didn't know what. But when Sunday came nothing could keep me from that table. And nothing could keep her away either, and we read. At least there were no more trips to the solitude of the bookshelves, here in the public café we were comfortably distant. Comfortable, I decided, is all we needed to be.
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Bad weather turned to worse, and the first Sunday in April arrived with dark gray clouds and an ominous chilly breeze. At midday it began to rain heavy cold sheets of water, and then the storm turned really nasty and started spitting hail. The sensible people of this world had all run home to their blankets and fireplaces, and here in the bookshop I was practically alone. Sipping my hot coffee and browsing industry headlines, the weather wasn't something I gave two thoughts for.
Until Coffee girl shuffled into the café, leaving a trail of water behind her wherever she walked. Her jeans were soaked, dark and dripping, the coat only slightly better off and her hair hanging in long wet ropes. She sniffled and grinned as she dropped into her chair.
"Konichiwa. Pretty awful out there, isn't it?"
"I'd say so. Ever hear of an umbrella?"
Her smile turned rueful. "Well I had one when the day started. I knew it was going to rain, but I didn't know it would hail. The ice pretty much finished it off on my way here. But it's all right, my coat kept me dry from the waist up and they say that's the most important." She enjoyed a loving sip of her chai drink, eyes closed in pleasure. "And this will warm me up quick enough."
"You shouldn't have come."
"And miss my Sunday afternoon?" she reproved, in mock horror. "Besides, you would have worried."
A rerun flash of guilt went through me when I remembered my behavior, that day a month ago. "Don't get sick because of me."
"I won't. If I did, then I'd have to miss next week." She directed a pert smile my way and I managed half of one in response. We retreated into our reading, and the table was quiet.
But the rain wasn't. I hadn't bothered to notice before, but now I could hear it beating against the café windows in ceaseless monotony. Was it going to rain all night?
Coffee girl didn't seem too concerned about it, wrapped up in her story like always, but now and then I heard her sniffle. Looking at her, in that dowdy sweatshirt and face half-hidden behind a bedraggled curtain of hair, I thought she resembled the pitiful stray creatures my brother occasionally brought home. I never could bring myself to punt them back out into the world.
I dragged my attention back to the crossword, but I couldn't tune out the rain. It was like I was standing out there in it, I could hear it so clearly, every drop cold and wet and hard. Her two hours complete, Coffee girl moved to stand.
"Wait." She paused and looked at me quizzically, and I spoke before I could tell myself to shut up. "How do you get home?"
She seemed surprised. "Well, I take the number fifteen bus going south, over the bridge-"
"Where's the bus stop?"
"About three blocks away." She saw me look at the rain-streaked window and was quick to continue. "Oh, please don't worry. There's lots of shop awnings and so on, and the bus stop bench is covered. I'll only get a little wet."
Only a little wet on top of how soaked she was at that moment. And then she'd still be wet and cold for the who-knew-how-long bus ride, and after that she would walk through the pelting rain from bus stop to her home.
"I'll take you home."
I think I shocked both of us with those words. Coffee girl's eyes popped open wide and frantically shook her head.
"Oh no, I couldn't- I couldn't make you -"
"You're not 'making me'. I offered."
"But your reading -"
"I leave about fifteen minutes after you do," I pointed out, oddly amused that she would have no way of knowing that. Coffee girl ducked her head meekly.
"I don't want to trouble you."
"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have said anything. Now go on." I nodded my head in the direction of the stairs and stood, shuffling my papers and magazines into a stack. Coffee girl hesitated, then she too looked out the window and surrendered. Hugging her book to her chest, she scampered out of the café.
I waited by the front door of the shop, feeling strangely detached from my own body. This was stupid, not at all a good idea and I knew I'd regret it later. I knew it, but I was staring through the glass doors at that rain and I could not make her go out in it.
And to think I was relieved we hadn't gone back to the bookshelves. She returned and I opened the door; we left the bookshop together. Maybe she felt strange about it too, because neither of us were speaking as I led her around the corner and to the entrance of the parking garage next door. It was built for the companies on this block but free to the public on weekends, and I usually drove here so I could go straight on home after reading. A press of a button on the remote and my Lexus lit up with a chirp. I wasn't about to open the car door for her and she didn't seem to expect it, sidling into the passenger seat and fastening her seatbelt while I started the engine.
In silence I backed out of the space, then circled the garage until I'd reached the entrance.
"Which way?" I prompted, when she said nothing.
"Oh, um, right. It's highway thirty-one, going south."
I flipped on the windshield wipers and turned right. The streets were virtually empty, unsurprisingly, and in solitude I pulled up to a streetlight. This silence between us was so unlike our other silences in the bookshop, each of us comfortable with our respective reading material. Now we had nothing to look at but the glowing red blur outside, and it was awkward.
"Hey," she squeaked, startling me. "My seat – it's hot!"
She looked so surprised that I almost chuckled. "Seat warmers," I explained, pointing to the dashboard switch. I'd never flipped it before today. "You looked cold. Is it too hot?"
"Oh no," she denied quickly, expression awed. "It's fine. Very cozy. I've heard of something like that, but I've never met anyone that has them." Happily she snuggled into her seat and smiled. The light turned green.
I drove through the intersection and pulled onto the highway, the quiet purr of the engine accelerating as the car gained momentum. The interior of the car was quiet too, but I decided this silence wasn't necessarily awkward after all. Coffee girl and I were the same, neither of us felt the need to talk for talking's sake. Most of the world couldn't understand that, but we did and that's how we shared a table so well. In the quiet we were happy.
I glanced over my shoulder to change lanes, and then glanced again just for her. I'd never seen Coffee girl's profile before, as we always sat facing one another, and for a moment it was like I was seeing her face for the first time. The nose was snub and petite, her skin pale with winter, lips curved into a drowsy smile of content. Enjoying her warmed seat, no doubt. Those honey brown eyes were gazing dreamily out the rain-streaked window, totally unaware of my scrutiny, her mind probably on some fantasy novel. No flashy beauty, but I could see what those other boys saw. Coffee girl was soft and inviting.
Other than to give directions, she said little. At her prompting I exited the highway and drove a few blocks, turned left and entered a residential neighborhood. The homes were middle-class, all right, but a little nicer than I'd been expecting. If she couldn't afford to buy more than a few books every year, it wasn't for lack of money on her mother's part.
"This is fine," she announced softly, and I glided to a stop by the curb. "Are you sure of the way back?"
"I'm good with direction. Don't worry about it."
"Was it very out of your way?"
"It's not a problem."
"Because I really do feel bad -"
"Don't waste your time," I advised. "It was nothing."
She'd been busying herself with her seatbelt as we spoke, and fussing with her scarf, but paused once she'd grasped the handle.
"Well, it was still very kind of you." Her smile glowed against the dreary and soaked evening, that smile that was directed right at me.
"Thank you, Mr. Kaiba."
She opened the door, and was gone.
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Disclaimer: I do not own these characters