Page 40 of Campfires & Canines
"Environmental studies."
"Sounds interesting." And I mean it.
"Yup, I'm going to save the world." He crosses his arms, the snarky smirk in place.
"Sounds like a good plan." I lift my coffee in a little cheers before taking another long sip.
"What did you study?" he asks.
"I graduated last year with a business degree."
"What are you doing with it? If I can ask."
"At first, I wanted to do marketing, " I admit. "I've been doing all sorts of random office work."
"Cool. Is that what brings you to town today? Working remotely too?"
"Uh, no. I've got an appointment with my therapist." I nibble my lip, nerves surging in my chest.
"Cool. Good for you." He smiles. When I can't manage a genuine smile in return, his lips curve downwards.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, totally." I brush him off.
He studies me. I twist the sleeve around my coffee cup. After a moment, I can’t take the silence.
"It's just that I kind of wanted to move here. I like it a lot. But my family isn't on board. They want me to go back to L.A." I'm spilling all my worries to a handsome stranger. Not a good idea.
I've hunched over, subconsciously avoiding this uncomfortable discussion topic. I straighten up, and wince as the skin on my chest stretches a little.
Jasper jerks forward, concern ferocious in his gaze. He reaches out but doesn't quite touch my wrist. "Are you hurt?" His voice is low.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment. "No. I'm sorry. I got a tattoo and it's healing."
His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, can I see?"
"Um, maybe next time." I figure that's a better answer than,no way, it's tucked between my boobs.You gotta buy me dinner first.
"I can't wait." He sits back. "Here, can you put my number in your phone? Or can I have yours?" He holds his phone out.
Remembering Marigold's delighted response when I mentioned my coffee friend, I oblige and text him my name.
"Hey, I’ve got to go," I blurt, realizing the time on my phone. "I guess I'll see you sometime soon?"
He stands up at the same time as I do. He closes the gap between us. "Hazel, you're doing the right thing by following your own instincts. I'm sure it'll work out and your family will understand eventually."
I blink at him, mumbling, "Thanks."
He holds his arms open and I accept the hug. He squeezes my shoulders. He’s warm. "You smell..." he murmurs, "Pleasant." He finishes the sentence as if he isn't quite sure what he was going to say.
"Thanks, I guess." I squint at him. "Okay, bye."
He waits until I'm halfway across the coffee shop to sit down and open his laptop.
Settled in my car close enough to still access their internet, I open the video call link. My therapist's face smiles back at me. We begin our comforting routine of checking in on how I am doing. She is supportive as I recount my tentative decision to change my plans and stay and all the turmoil over my uncle's reaction. She doesn'thave any answers, but it helps to work through my anxious thoughts with her. I’m calmer and feel regulated afterward.
As we are wrapping up, a tall figure ducks out of the coffee shop. If he sees me, he doesn't react. He strolls down the sidewalk, the sun lighting his hair into a white-gold blaze against his tawny skin. I watch his retreating shape.
