If I Lose Myself - Dele Alli

Chapter 4

A/N: First of all, I would just like to thank you for reaching this far. It still feels surreal to me that people actually read my story. Anyways, I would just like to make a few things clear, things that I didn't mention earlier;

1. I refer to Soccer as football throughout the whole book. This may confuse a lot of people with American Football, but I can assure you that it's completely different.

2. Although most of my characters are based off of real people, their personalities in this story aren't. 

FOUR

Mystery creates wonder

And wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand.

-Neal Armstrong

Dele

Emma and I walked quietly along the street that headed to the coffee shop. She was unusually quiet like she had been last night, but by now, I was already used to her silence. I noticed that she didn't talk much, and I didn't bother talking either. We just walked in awkward silence. Emma looked everywhere except me, but I watched her the whole time. From the way the glow of the sun made her eyes look even brighter than they did last night, to the way a deep dimple formed on her left cheek when she smiled at the children who seemed to be playing tag. She was a hidden beauty, freckles on her forehead, the bounteous hair that was so long and curly almost hiding her face, as she fiddled with the end, twisting the curls between her fingers.

I was enticed by her. Maybe it was the way she gave off the impression that she didn't care about how she was dressed. Emma was still in her pajamas, most girls that I knew would've probably killed themselves before they were seen in public in their pj's. She was a mystery, one that I couldn't figure out. She would leave me so angry and confused at one moment, but I would still catch myself thinking of her like I did all night long. I couldn't remember ever meeting a woman like her. Her purse was the only way I was ever going to see her again. The doorman of the building refused to tell me what number her apartment was, and it took a lot of persuasion, and £20 to get him to talk. 

The air in the coffee shop smelled of... Well, coffee. It was a delectable aroma that left my nostrils jumping in glee. The smell of freshly baked pastries grabbed my attention, they were neatly placed on the transparent glass cabinet, which made my stomach grumble, reminding me that I had earlier skipped breakfast. The coffee shop was called 'Darcy's' Café and restaurant', and although it was small, it felt cozy. The walls were painted a warm chestnut brown colour that instantly made me feel at home. On the eve of my thirteenth birthday, my mum had asked me what colour I wanted my room to be painted in, she claimed that I was growing up, and it was okay for me to pick out the things that I wanted. I picked the chestnut brown colour. My mum tried to convince me to pick another color, but it was that particular brown that I admired.

Darcy's was quite busy, with people coming in and out, others just enjoying their coffee by themselves, students all over with laptops, and books, and families who had their children with them. Emma led me to one of the tables that was situated near the window, giving us a full view of the cars that passed by. The table next to us was occupied by two teenage girls that looked very frustrated, papers scrawled all over the table, as they went on and on about how much homework they had.

A beautiful woman with slightly graying hair appeared beside the table with a pen, and a notebook. She looked like she was still I her early fifties, but her face was heavily made up which made her look younger than her actual age. The gray hair, and the wrinkles that folded on her forehead were the only dead giveaways. She smiled as she asked the same question she probably asked every customer that visited the café. "Hello, welcome to Darcy's Café and restaurant. What can I..." She stopped mid-sentence when Emma looked up at her.