I wanted to go back.
Ever since I turned ten, I’ve had this pull. First I’d run away, and then, I’d feel a pull in my toes, and I’d go back.
And now, still sitting in the coffee shop I felt the pull. I was about to get up and go back when the sharp clang of the bell on the door sounded. He stepped inside and rubbed his hands together. Those hands.
I barely even knew him and my face was probably carressed with his fingerprints.
He walked over, his footsteps slow and heavy, but not the least bit hesitant.
After sinking into the chair opposite me and counting to one hundred, he finally said something. “Do you believe in awkward silences?” he asked.
“Not with certain people,” I said. Which was weird, because I had been planning on saying yes, but then… Then I remember how it hadn’t been awkward not saying anything at the wall.
“Not with me,” he said.
I just nodded, seeing a pattern with his abilities to read my mind.
“I’m Noel,” he whispered, “342-5642.”
And with that he walked outside again.