There she was, as elegant as ever, ravishing even in an over-sized hoodie and sweatpants. Her glasses sat crooked on her face, and she bore a slim smile on her face, as always. Her hair partially hidden under a beanie, she walked to the back of the shop and ordered the same regular cup of coffee she did every morning. She was that kind of girl.
She sat on the sofa across from me and we exchanged smiles. She got to work immediately, finishing that paper that was due Thursday in her psychology class. Her organization was impeccable, yet marked with disorder. There was a method to her madness, no matter what she did. Her stressful life was a facade for serenity. She was that kind of girl.
Maybe I was crazy, but it felt like I knew her beyond this coffee shop, like we had shared a history. Good and bad memories flooded my head, that I knew had never even happened. She was an enigma, an unsolvable puzzle in the very centre of my life. She was the reason I came to this coffee shop every morning, just to see her. She was that kind of girl
I smiled, finished my coffee, and made for the door. As i walked past her, she grabbed my arm. I looked down at her and she stared right back at me.
"Hi, I'm Emily." Her first words to me. It was a long time coming, but she did what I had never realized I wanted to do. She beat me to it. She was that kind of girl.
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