I hate the rain. Truly hate it. Normally I wouldn't mind, but today I despise it with great intensity. Why? Because I am currently stuck at the Billy Bright Café with no other than Joseph Canter. He was sitting a few tables away from mine, laughing with his two buddies. Whenever he smiled I was tempted to throw my fork at him just like I would a spear. His brown hair covered his eyes from time to time, making him have to flip it to the side in that way only he could pull of. His letter jacket was adorned with tags and recognition pins, and his bright smile reflected what he was known as in our school. Our star quarter back.
Now, I would have opted to walk home under the pouring rain, seeing as I didn't have an umbrella with me, but I live exactly thirty five blocks away from this house of torture. This were the moments in which I really yearned for a car.
My salad tasted like cardboard since the moment he came in, but I didn't throw it away because of fear of looking anorexic. I mean, a girl who throws away her half eaten salad? That's just pathetic. And I'm not in a diet, I just happen to be a slight, not complete, vegeterian.
Joseph and his buddies kept cracking jokes and laughing, while I sat at my miserable table, all by myself, picking at my once delicious salad. How I hate this cursed rain!
With my plate in my hands I stood up and walked to the trash can at the far side of the café, trying my best to avoid Joseph's table. I didn't care if I looked anorexic or not anymore, but sitting there staring at the salad would surely drive me crazy. And one would think that such a popular café as Billy Bright would have a few more customers during a Sunday afternoon, but this time it was oddly empty. It was only Joseph Canter, his two buddies, an employee of Billy Bright, and me, the annoyed half vegeterian. Life can be so cruel sometimes.
I walked back to my table, sat down and picked up my purse. I took out a book that I was carrying with me at the moment so that I could distract myself from the deep male voices at the other side of the dinner. The reason why I carried the book was because it was my friend's, Jilly, and I said I would return it today. Allas, I was fortunate enough not to have finished the book, so I could take this time to do it. But just before I opened the cover and headed to the last chapter, I heard Joseph's distinct voice biding goodbye to his fellow football players, and asking the employee to make him some hot cocoa. People probably think of his kind as a frapuccino kind of guy, but I guess that's not it when it comes to him. He sat at his now empty table drinking his newly bought cup of hot cocoa and stared at the rain hitting the pavement outside. This was enough to make me put my book down and concentrate my gaze on him, if only for a few moments.