Coffee Reservations

"Oh, there you are!" her booted feet clacked audibly across the shaded concrete. "I bought you a coffee."

The beverage slid roughly across the metal mesh tabletop. I eyed it warily. "I don't drink coffee."

"I know, but I do, and I figured once you warmed your hands I could drink it later." She sipped from a steaming white paper cup, with a scarlet F emblazoned upon the side, encircled by a frame of open books.

"How thoughtful of you."

Nearby traffic and a wintry gust of wind swept my sarcasm away. Her eyes twinkled as I clutched the tiny cup, life tingling back into my frozen fingers.

She looked around, hooking a thumb on a ribbon of flyaway hair and tucking it under her knit cap. "I think I'm going to like it here."

I watched steam get chased out of my cup, wishing I had a cigarette. "I'm not fond of coffee shops."

"Tough luck. Looks like we'll be spending some time here."

"You, maybe." I grouched. "I only came because you asked."

"But you still came." That sparkle again. "Gonna drink that?"