Spitfire

Seconds, minutes felt like hours as I waited there with my hands wrapped around a hot white chocolate mocha I hadn’t yet picked up. The heat from the clay cup warmed my hands and a shiver ran down my back. I fought the urge to turn around whenever the door opened. The need to look over my shoulder to see if I recognized anyone was strong. I stared out of the window until I felt someones gaze on the side of my face. I tensed but refused to look. I waited until I saw them approach out of the corner of my eye.

I took a deep breath and turned to look up at the person who stood by the table. It wasn’t the waitress and it wasn’t anyone I knew. My eyes glided up his body and searched his features. I didn’t know who it was and I definitely didn’t recognize him. He was tall, even taller than mom. His shoulders were wide and his arms bulky. Despite wanting to claim this man was a stranger to me, I couldn’t help but want to admit that there was something about him that called to me.

He had dirty