I Like That

I like the idea of just writing in my writing blog. So I’ll do it again!

Selene tapped her fingernails on the table. She had given it plenty of time, so she would not be late–and everything had worked together, so she would be very early. Now she had half an hour until her appointment. Mierda, why did it never work that way when she was late? She took out her book-pad, glanced at it and set it down. Damn battery was dead, again. Viejo piece of mierda, she needed a new one.

She looked around at the coffee house, at a bunch of college kids, in their expensively casual clothes, talking and laughing and eating and drinking. A few were studying, but not many. After all, the semester had just begun. She snorted. Estudiantes. Damn useless idiotes. How well would they do without Mama and Papa paying the bills?

The boy at the next table was staring, ignoring his girlfriend chattering. Selene sat straighter, pushing her chest out. The boy breathed deep and unconsciously leaned forward. Selene snorted as his girlfriend finally noticed, and punched his shoulder. She glared at Selene, Selene shrugged back. It was not her fault the girl had no chest, and no wit to emphasize what she did have.

A chubby young man approached, set a cup of coffee in front of Selene. “Sammy will be with you in a few minutes,” he said with a smile, while he stared at her legs. Selene tossed her hair and stared at him until he pulled his eyes to her face. He blushed. “Uh…I hope you get hired.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Why?”

He blushed deeper. “Because–because I think you’re nice.”

“Why? You know nothing about me but the shape of my legs.”

“Well, I–” he shook his head and backed away. “Sorry. I was just trying to be nice.”

Selene tossed her hair again, and crossed her legs the other way. At least three nearby boys watched the process with fascination. Idiotes. Mama had said the pay was better near the college, and Selene believed it. The question was, could she stand to wait upon such worthless, brainless ninos, thinking they were better than her because someone else paid their way?

“Excuse me.” Selene lifted her eyes to the next to take a chance, a pale young man with muscles, brown hair and eyes of a rare bright green. “Are you using this chair?”

Selene blinked. That wasn’t much of a line–oh. He was asking to sit with her. “No,” she said, and before she could finish with, “I don’t want company,” he had lifted the chair with a smile and a nod, and moved to a small table in the corner. Where he sat alone, and pulled a text-reader from his bag. Selene stared after him, her mouth still hanging open.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” An older man sat at her table, Selene shut her mouth with a snap. “I’m Sammy, and before I waste any more of your time, I don’t think you would work out here.”

Selene shook her head. “You–you didn’t even talk to me.”

“No, I didn’t. I watched how you reacted with those around you, and I’m sorry to say, I didn’t like what I saw. I’m sorry.” He stood, offered his hand. “I hope you find a position better suited to you.”

“What position?” Selene snapped. “On my back?”

Sammy shook his head. “I’d work on that attitude if I were you, miss.” He walked away. Selene stuffed her book-pad into her bag. Bastardo! He hadn’t even given her a chance!

“Excuse me,” the young man with the muscles was back. Had he thought of a better line? “I noticed you’re still waiting. If you’re not busy, could you help me for a few minutes? If it’s no trouble?”

Well, that was the politest pick-up she’d heard in a while. Besides, he was cute. “What is it you need?”

He grinned. “I need to study, and my text-reader is messing up. I want to quiz myself, and it keeps highlighting the answers. Could you read it to me? I’d be happy to buy you lunch or something, for your time.”

Madre de Dios, was he serious? He looked serious, and sincere. Selene had lots of practice at spotting deceit. She smiled. “What is your name?”

“Donte. Donte Stromei.” He held out his hand. He hadn’t even glanced lower than her neck. Was he bent? That would be a damn shame. She shook his hand, and was surprised by calluses. Did this man-child know what it was to work?

“I am Selene Consuela Ramirez-Jorqueras.”

“Wow,” Donte sat on the edge of the chair the bastardo Sammy had just left. “That’s a mouthful. I hope you won’t be offended if it takes me a while to remember that.”

Selene was impressed he even meant to try. She tossed her hair. “What are you studying?”

“Today, Comparative Religion. It’s all new to me, and I don’t want to get behind. Have you taken it yet?”

“No,” Selene answered, “I have not taken it yet.”

“It’s a pain, and boring as hell.” Donte slid the text-reader across the table, a larger and much better model–as well as newer–than her own book-pad. “But maybe studying it now will help you later.”

Madre de Dios, Selene thought again. He thought she was another student. He still hadn’t even glanced at her chest, let alone her legs. He sat across the table from her, and he really did want her to help him study. And the subject was religion, not anatomy.

She truly hoped he was not bent. It would be a damn shame if his boyfriend showed up.

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