5.18.2009

Wasted Pages 1

This is the first time I've ridden this far on my bike. Today I sped past all of the familiar houses, coasting down hills and rising off of the seat to push forward; making turns only when necessary until I no longer knew where I was. I figured I'd risk not finding my way back to my apartment before dark. It is 10am; I have almost 12 hours of freedom. I have a twenty as well as my cell in the pocket of my light blue cargo shorts. Actually I think the shorts were his. At some point. He's so small, it’s unsurprising that we can wear one another's clothes. I have no intention of even turning the damn phone on--he's probably calling to find out where I am. I'm glad I wore a tank top. It's very sunny and warm with a nice breeze.
As I finally slow down to a stop I realize I have to be in some neighboring town, and thus I am not really that far from familiar territory. However, the point was not to go a long distance. The point was to go somewhere Kaleb wouldn't think to look. As I catch my breath, I examine my surroundings.
Look's like I'm on the Main Street of this random town. Not much so far, I can see an ice cream place, a cafe, a furniture store, and a sporting goods store. That's all across the street. On this side are a community bank, a card-and-gifts shop, and a hobby shop. I'm wiped, and I need to sit and rest and most importantly I need to just think. Cafes are usually conducive to that sort of thing so here I go. The streets are empty and I figure my pretty pink bike is safe. I leave it leaning against the building and walk in.
The place is called The Eagle Bean. It's a standard lounge style cafe, complete with a stage near the back. There's a jukebox by the register. The furniture is comfortable looking with the air of history that comes from being secondhand. At least, I hope it's secondhand. One couch looks thirdhand, maybe even fourth. The barista is a young man, close-shaved blond hair and blue eyes that brag long eyelashes. He's taller than me, though I think he's my age. Maybe a year or two older. I step forward tentatively. The menu is extensive, listing many coffee based drinks and some teas as well as pre-made snacks. The barista, who I can see is wearing a band tee screaming out DOOM TROOPS and a very loose apron with a name tag attached smiles and asks how he can help me. His name tag says Rebecca.
"So your name is Rebecca?" I ask gesturing towards the tag.
"What? Oh, no--she's my co-worker, we switched shifts and she thought it'd be funny to switch name tags. My name is Gavin."
"Nice to meet you Gavin."
"So anything you'd like to drink? Our special is the Mint Mocha Iced Coffee, and believe me it is delicious."
I grimaced, "I'm not a fan of the mint/chocolate combination."
"Really? You strange girl." He laughed.
"No kidding. A regular iced coffee is fine, please." I can't afford to waste money right now, considering that I might need it for actual food later. But I am damn thirsty. And sweaty.
"One iced coffee coming up." He quickly put the drink together and then charged me. I pocketed the change.
"What, no tip?" Gavin gives me a flirtatious grin as I seat myself in a floral print recliner.
"I'm poor," I state bluntly.
"At least tell me your name then, young lady."
I eyed him carefully over my drink, "You're not old enough to call me young." He just shrugs and keeps staring so I respond, "Idelle. Tracie."
"Wait which one?"
"Both. My name is Idelle Tracie."
"Oh! Gotcha. Bridger. My last name that is. I mean, that's my last name." He blushes. My turn to laugh.
"Nice to meet you Gavin Bridger." I'm beginning to feel more relaxed and less tense. I remember that I'm free right now; I can do as I please. For now, Kaleb can't make me feel guilty for my behavior. I can't hurt him any worse than I have already. I smile to myself, remembering. I am free until I have to go back. I don't know what I'll do then, but I may as well enjoy my time. I look back at Gavin. He is still looking at me, seemingly intrigued. I smile as radiantly as I can. "Gavin, how old are you?"
"Older than you, love."
"I'm twenty years old as of last month."
"I'm seven years older than you."
Surprised I say, "I believe I miscalculated."

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