The girl in the cafe

Lora walked with me to the station later on Sunday. She was full of apologies for having stomped down the stairs at exactly the wrong moment, but she was probably right to say that nothing could realistically have happened with Alice’s boyfriend dozing upstairs. She realised that she’d arrived at completely the wrong moment, and I suppose I can say that all bad feelings between us totally dissipated. 

We passed Starbucks, and in the window sat a slim girl with dark copper hair that reached her collar-bones. She had milky-white skin with a few freckles but not a single other blemish. She was a student and scruffily dressed, she wore skinny blue jeans and a tee-shirt through which I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra; her nipples were pressing against the cotton. Normally any girls would have been jealous and bitchy, but she was so beautiful we both stopped and gazed at her for a moment.

Lora, who’s always been better at this than me, said “She’s gay”.

I hoped that my friend was right.

The girl looked out the window and saw us talking about her, smiling sweetly towards us. My friend noticed the girl was reading Middlemarch, the book Lora’s book club were enjoying. She had her copy from her handbag and she pulled it out and waved it at the girl in an easy manner as a happy look of recognition crossed the girl’s face and she signalled to invite us to join her. Lora was tempted to go in, but I reminded her that I had to catch the train. So reluctantly she followed me to the station and saw me to the barrier.

I sat in my seat as the train pulled away wondering why I had become so obsessed with girls.

It would have been enough to think about fucking Alice again, but knowing that Lora was already on her way back to Starbucks, my face burned with jealousy and at thought of them having sex my cunt flooded my panties.