The first time we met- a short story

“I will be there in five minutes.”She said over the phone while trying to conceal her eagerness. She was meeting this boy for the first time. She had known him for just over a couple of months. They acquainted through a mutual friend and struck a chord immediately.

“I will not take anything right now, thank you though.”She quickly told the sales attendant. She and the boy agreed to meet at a famous coffee shop in the city. Being quite punctilious, she reached on the agreed time at the coffee shop, parked outside and called him. “Hi, have you reached?” “Hi, no I am sorry I am running a little late. I am reaching in another 15 minutes. What about you?”

Should I tell him I have reached? What would he think? I am so eager to meet him?

“No, I called to let you know that I am also running late. You call me when you reach.”

And she bolted towards the nearby store on the same street on the pretext of checking out the new stock while actually trying to kill time.

She always had a peculiar interest in window shopping.  She would spend all the waiting time for friends, window shopping, or occasionally buying what she liked. It was titillating for her. But this time, she looked around the store and faked interest in certain things, while her ears kept listening intently to her cell phone ring in case he calls and he tells her to come over to the coffee shop, and her mind kept conjuring up his real looks from the photographs she had seen of him.

“I want to see you.”He had typed on the chat window a couple of months back. “Okay, I too want o see you. How do we that?” “You send me your picture, and I’ll send you mine.” She had spent hours on her computer deciding on which picture to send, which picture she looked best in! She was doing such thing for the first time and she was determined to not create a bad impression. She had already started liking this boy. She had finally sent a picture of hers which was taken by a friend while she posed in front of the famous lake in the city. And then she had kept anticipating his replies. Would he like how I look? Would I just be an ordinary girl to him? Or would he really like me? Oh I knew I should have sent the other picture. I should have never agreed to exchanging pictures in the first place.

But that doubt left her mind forever the very instant she laid her eyes on the picture he sent of himself. There stood a boy on a hill top, in the midst of greenery, looking a little cold, wearing a striped red pullover, hands folded in front, having the looks of the most handsome man she had ever seen, with a kind looking pretty face and an athletic body. She went week in her knees that very instant.

She quickened her pace towards the coffee shop, trying to dodge away the million thoughts and doubts and questions that kept forcing their way into her mind.

She reached the entrance, quickly adjusted her top, ran fingers through her hair, drew a deep breath, and took a step in.

He was comfortably sitting on the sofa closest to the entrance looking into the menu. He looked a bit different from the photo, but she could recognize him with an ease that instantly made her a little more comfortable. He felt similar. “Hi! How are you?”He said smiling at her, confident within himself, extending a greeting hand towards her as he got up from the sofa. “Hi! Good, thanks.” She managed to mutter, concealing her anxiety and sitting down facing him. He seemed really composed, which made her wonder if it was usual for him to accost women. She on the other hand was shy. She was not used to meeting handsome men often.

He was different from what she been visualizing in her mind over the last month or so. He was… more handsome. Dressed in a white full sleeved T-shirt and blue denims, he did good justice to his muscular body and fair complexion. The white sport shoes completed the look. He looked simple and smart, something she liked in boys. She was never into loud fashion. Even though she was digging his whole personality, she couldn’t help but hate the full sleeved T-shirt. She just never liked full sleeves on men besides in formal shirts or Indian Kurtas. She didn’t know then that the t-shirt was never to be worn again because she didn’t like it…

“Let’s order coffee, what would you like to have?” He asked her politely and waited for her to answer, while stealthily noticing her. She picked up the menu from the table and browsed through the section that said Hot Coffee. “Mmmm… I would take a Latte.”She wasn’t a coffee fan and actually hated strong coffees. Latte was the only coffee she liked having occasionally when she had to. He smiled and called the waiter. “One Latte for the lady here and one Espresso for me.” He orders politely and when the waiter repeated the order while seeking confirmation, he thanked him.

She liked polite and courteous people. She would appreciate when the boys in her friend circle would hold the door open for her, offer to carry heavy items, and show occasional courtesy in general. Not that she found herself incapable or unwilling to do so, but because it showed consideration and good manners. She did not make friends with people who were rude or impolite. She was herself quite well behaved, at least socially, and soft spoken, at least until she was comfortably open to someone.

She liked him for his politeness. How do I like everything about him! She thought. Am I reading him correctly or am I just creating a halo around him because he looks so damn good…Her thoughts drifted apart when she saw him holding a wrapped box out. “Oh I got this for you.” What? First meeting and he got something for me? He is so sweet! Boys like him are a scarce resource! “Oh! Thank you so much. You really didn’t need to bring this though.” She said while peeping into the packet. It was a box of chocolates.

She loved chocolates.

They talked about studies, work and life in general. It was easy to talk to him. He had good stories to tell and told them with a nice touch of humor.

How does he score on every point while I am just sitting around overwhelmed by his perfection? What would he think about me? How do I create a good impression? What do I do to make him like me? Is he finding the conversation interesting? How could he, he was so much more exposed to the world out there than me, and I haven’t really done much in my life as yet to tell about.

And she started cursing all those times when her friends would ask her to join on a road trip, or on a vacation and she would gladly deny them in favor of better and more important things to do, they being studying and, well studying.

She was not a geek, she never was. But she was a sincere college student. She was a well cultured pretty young college girl, prettier than she thought she was. There were a number of boys that wanted to be more than friends with her, if only she were more observant or responsive. She was oblivious to her charm.

And here she was, mentally brooding over her lack of social and conversational skills while consciously talking to this bright young boy whom she really liked, and was liking more and more with every passing moment.

“Ok, that’s my cue.” She heard herself saying after an hour or so, when she got a call from her home asking where she was. She didn’t want to leave, but she had to. Not because she was supposed to reach home on time, but because by now she was pretty sure in her head that he was already bored, and the more time she spends with him, the worse her social repute is going to become. “Oh alright. It was nice meeting you. Take care.” So he didn’t even ask me to stay back longer.. I was right he didn’t like me.

“It was nice meeting you too. Bye!” She tried to sound normal. Inside, she felt broken. She was the girl who was never interested in any boy until now. She was the girl whom a decent number of boys chased on the way and back from college. She was the girl whom other girls were jealous of. Although she never showed that, but she was confident that any boy she would meet would like her. And here she could have no effect on the first boy she liked. Zero. Shame.

She paid the parking ticket, and pulled the car away feeling awkward. Unable to understand what to do, she called her mom. “I will be home in ten minutes, mother. Do you want me to fetch something for you on the way home?” She pressed the brake irritated seeing the signal go red. It always miraculously happened as she reached the crossroads. “Ok. No I want nothing.” And her mother hung up. Her mother used to hang up phone calls abruptly. She would never say a proper goodbye that signaled the end of conversation. In a few seconds, the signal turned green and she moved forward. As she started speeding the phone rang again. 

“Yes mother, did you change your mind? Do you want me to buy some fruits?” “Hi! Its me!” She had answered the phone without checking the caller’s name! And it was him calling! Shock! Horror! Gasp!

“Oh! Hi, sorry I thought it’s my mother. I was speaking to her a few seconds earlier.”She managed to justify. “Oh Ok. So you must be talking to her when I called you a minute back when your phone was busy.” What? He called me a minute ago? But I had just pulled out of the parking around then. So he called me about a couple of minutes after I bid him goodbye! What does that mean? But I shouldn’t ask.

“So you called me a minute after I left? Is it anything important? Did we forget to pay the bill?” She asked shamelessly. She had done that one time earlier at another place. It was an honest mistake. She had already hit rock bottom with this boy. It didn’t matter now if he found the reason in her mind behind his call weird. “No, nothing of that sort.” He said, sounding strange. “Oh. Then?” She asked, now totally clueless about what could be the reason. She was anyway too desolate to attempt to understand it. At least until he said what he said next.

“When are you going to meet me next?”

She could not believe she was hearing this.

Life was good again.