Untitled Part 27

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THE BOY smiles as he walks up to the building, one hand clinched on to his body bag's strap, the other to his helmet. Once the doors open the boy is greeted by the whiff of coffee in the air; a pleasant morning. He cannot dismiss from his mind the message he received the other morning.

Can we meet?

The boy walks into the coffee shop, into the space of bronze walls and wooden chairs and tables. He immediately spots the girl. It has been five months since the accident, and he thought she would never contact her. But she did. And she is there all right, in his seat in a corner by the washing and garbage area. She is wearing a coral long-sleeved shirt and denim skinny jeans, intent on her phone. Her hair has grown past her chin; the roots have shown themselves, dark yet golden.

The boy approaches the girl, trips over a bump in the carpeted floor. He stumbles forward and with his foot produces a thump on the floor, loud enough that the girl immediately looks his way, but low enough so as not to attract other lingering unwanted stares. He regains his balance at once, and can feel his cheeks being pulled to his ears.

And the girl smiles back.

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