Jennifer held the scarf in her hands. This was enough. Michal had crossed a line, waltzing in here, which she didn't even know how he had done, and placed the scarf from the lost and found in her room.
She looked around her apartment, not even knowing what to do for a few moments, just holding the orange, green, and yellow striped scarf in her hands, not even feeling the rough texture anymore.
What was she going to do?
After about twenty minutes of pacing around her small apartment, she decided to face Michal once and for all. She hadn't said one word about this. Well, that was going to change.
She grabbed her keys from her kitchen counter, slipped on her moccasins and heri long yellow cardigan, and marched to her apartment door. It seemed, at the time, to be staring her down, almost criticizing her.
Jennifer didn't care; Michal was going to get a piece of her mind. How could he do this? What was his deal, anyway? Today he was going to get some of her opinion. She opened her door with force, closed it with the same amount of determination, and stormed down the hall to Michal's door.
This is it, thought Jennifer. She knocked two times.
The door opened just enough that she could see that it was Michal, but it looked dark in his apartment, which surprised her. It isn't late, she thought to herself.
Suddenly she felt her body relax; maybe she had overreacted.
"Uh, Michal?," she asked almost timidly, gently holding up the scarf.
"Yeah Jen? What is it?," Michal asked, also looking a little confused as he opened the door slowly but surely while he straightened up, automatically looking down at Jennifer. He had never called her Jen before.
"Well, it's just, I got home and I saw this on my couch," Jennifer said in a slightly teasing tone. She held out the scarf more, making Michal's gaze drop down to the scarf Jen held in her hands.
"Oh, really? I might have gotten a key from Ms. Nolton and slipped in during my lunch break," he replied, playing right into the trap he no doubt already knew he was in.
"Is that so? Because I thought I had mentioned before that I never want to see this thing again," Jennifer said as she looked down at the scarf, and when she looked up she saw that Michal was staring right at her. Her pulse jumped.
She shouldn't have done this.
"Well if you are returning it, the only way I'll accept it back into my home is if you come in for a nice, gourmet cup of joe that I happen to be whipping up right now," Michal offered as he opened the door even more.
For a moment Jen hesitated; this has never happened to her before. But he'd been nice, she really needed that scarf out of her hair, and hey, it's coffee. She can't resist coffee.
"Deal," she responded as she slipped past the door, aware of how Michal stood there.
The apartment was nicer than she thought; he really knew how to decorate. It had a bohemian feel, but somehow it all had the same color palette and she could tell he kept it up.
She sat on the couch and heard him root around for another mug, heard the pot detach from the maker and smelled the aroma before he put it in her hands, making sure she had a firm grip before he let go. He sat on the opposite side of the couch and took a couple of sips from his steaming mug before he started talking.
Jennifer immediately turned toward him.
"So, uh, you like the coffee?," he asked, clearly trying to find something to break the silence. He put his hand through his sandy brown hair.
"Yeah, it's pretty good," Jennifer replied as she set her mug down on a coaster that had what looked like henna drawn on the top.
"Well that's good," Michal said as he shifted his mug to his other hand and laid back, putting his arm facing Jennifer on the back of the couch. "You know, my brother always makes fun of it. Says it has a dirt undertone or something, I don't know," he continued while shaking his head.
"Well, I think it tastes good," Jennifer repeated, and then for effect lifted her coffee mug and took another huge sip, sighing afterwards. "Delicious. Best coffee in Washington."
"You flatter me," Michal said while mock waving his hand.
Thirty minutes later they were still talking.
