Yes, Today

Chapter 2

She glanced down at the comic in my hand. “Elf Planet. Nice.”

I flushed again. Was that irony? Or—no, no that was just my brain lying to me. As usual.

“I gotta run, but—I just applied for a job here, so hopefully I’ll see you around?” She sounded almost hopeful.

“Yeah. I—I come by all the time,” was all I could get out.

She smiled, then turned, her knee-length skirt flaring, and walked out of the coffee shop. I wanted to watch and see if she looked back, but instead, I kept pretending to read Elf Planet.

* * * *

Maybe she meant it. Maybe she really did want to see me around. But why didn’t she ask for my number or something then?

Not that I had asked for hers.

Hm.

I finished work the next day, then fired up ChatApp, which I have to keep silenced when I’m trying to get anything done. Of all the chat channels I frequent, the Elf Planet one is the most active—and, okay, a lot of that has to do with me keeping it active. There are all kinds of subchannels in it, though, not just comic book talk. We have #cooking, which has saved my life a few times, #bookrecs, which is responsible for a lot of my endless TBR pile, and of course, #lifestuff.

Dad still thinks it’s wild that some of my best friends are online. But Dad grew up in the seventies, so what does he know?

First, I checked out #spoilers because that’s where all the new issue talk was. I added my two cents, then flicked through the other channels to see what was up. I kept thinking about Maeve, though, and whether she really wanted to see me again. Would it be weird if I went back to the cafe now?

Laddu, my fluffy white cat, sat himself imperiously on my lap as I pondered this, so I had to rearrange my keyboard setup. That done, I opened up the #lifestuff channel and typed:

So, there’s this girl. We used to have classes together at university, and I always admired her style—especially her heart-shaped backpack that says “f**k off” on it. She’s really cute, but I was always too awkward to say anything to her.

Today, like a year and a half after the last time I saw her at school, she was at my favorite cafe. She recognized me and said hi, and that she’d just applied for a job at the cafe and “hopefully” she’d see me around.

Is it weird if I go back there asap to see if she got the job? Is it weird that she didn’t ask for my number if she really did want to see me there? (I didn’t ask for hers, either. I was flustered. Okay?)

One of my favorite people on the channel, Wilhelmina, immediately posted: Nah, girl do it! She probably just didn’t want to come on too strong. She remembered you, right?

I had to admit, she had. I pointed this out to Laddu, who purred relentlessly. Obviously, he agreed.

Three people clicked the “embarrassed and cute” reaction to my original post.

Okay, this was a good choice. I was feeling better already.

Dirk, a regular on the channel, added: Not weird that she didn’t ask for your number. You should next time, though.

A bunch of people clicked the “thumbs up” reaction to that one. Apparently, I had a silent audience for my #lifestuff. It was kinda sweet.

Does she like Elf Planet? asked a new channel denizen called Sadie.

I replied, She recognized it—I had the new issue with me.

KEEPER, said Dirk, at the same moment a bunch of people clicked the heart reaction.

You should definitely ask for her number next time, said Wilhelmina.

I paused while similar suggestions rolled in, petting Laddu. I wanted to ask for Maeve’s number. But that seemed like the kind of thing I’d think about nonstop until I saw Maeve again, and then a hundred percent fail to do because my brain decided to raise a white flag and leave me paralyzed in the moment. I replied with a noncommittal, I’ll try.

You got this, said Sadie, which I thought was really cool for someone new to the channel.

I probably didn’t have this, but it was nice that she thought so.

* * * *

I had a huge project that week from a regular client, a massive orthopedic center, so at least I didn’t sit around fretting about Maeve nonstop. It sounds mind-numbing, I know, but I love transcribing. I love difficult recordings the most, because it’s like a puzzle, and it occupies me completely. For my work hours, my mind is mostly silent—which means it isn’t lying to me about anything. It’s just focused and sharp and getting s**t done.

I keep thinking I should take up meditation, to learn how to get it to do that any time I want. It might be nice to be able to shut my brain up without delving into three hours of dictation about knee surgery. Alas, the few times I tried, my brain wouldn’t shut up and actually made things worse. I hear that gets better with practice. Someday, I’ll practice.

Someday, when I can deal with the brain freakouts enough to get past them. Today is not that day. Or week. Or month, even, let’s be real.

There was no reason to go to the comic shop until next month, which was when I usually went to the cafe. Still, I had the moral support of the internet Elf Planet fandom on my side, so I sucked it up. That Friday, a week after I’d spotted Maeve, I returned to the cafe.

A cute, dark-eyed boy was at the counter, which was disappointing. I smiled and ordered a small Americano, though, just like I’d rehearsed in the car on the way there. I didn’t need a large—that was way too many shots of espresso when I was trying not to be awkward. I even managed to ask, “Is it just you here today?”