I had never heard the coffee shop this quiet. Every table was filled with students, some I knew as regulars, others as fellow freshmen and some as students in some of my classes.
Talk was non-existent as faces glowed in front of lap-tops and tablets. Phone usage was rhythmic but not obsessive. It seemed to me that texting was the norm and was done only for academic reasons. But I could not tell. Even the regulars, who never seemed to take studying seriously, were bent over their text books.
As I struggled to stay awake, I began to ponder my own test schedule. Chemistry, thankfully, was done earlier today. I felt good about my effort and think an ‘A’ is not out of the question. But tomorrow for me, like those who sit slumped in the familiar pose of students cramming their brains, is the final push. US History, Physics, and Psychology await me.
I push my iPad to life and scroll to my history text book. Tapping the icon brings me to my review page where I been an hour before the most recent rush had occurred. I join the glowing faces from behind the counter.
As I become engrossed with the names, places, and faces of history which still scroll across my screen when I read the news from my Google app, I forget where I am until suddenly I feel, then see, the shadow in the reflection of my iPad’s glass. I look up.
My mind rushes to thinking about when, where, I saw him last. Irina’s that night? No. How about coming back from home after being with mom. No.
But he’s here. Now.
“Hi! It’s been a while.”
“Uh, yeah, it, uh, has.”
So how’s life? How’s studying? And I would like a chai tea with lime, grande, please.
“Ah, Greg. Greg, Greg, Greg. Who ARE you? Why is it I think I know you?”