"Sorry, but I think this will have to be it," I say, remembering what I still haven't told him.
"Meaning we can't do this again?" He looks down and nods. "It's the tooth, isn't it?"
"What?" I ask, not sure if he's being serious or kidding around. He seems serious.
"My tooth," he repeats. I still don't know what he means so he smiles really wide and says, "See it?"
I look closer. "I don't see anything."
He laughs. "I was just kidding. I was hoping it'd make you tell me the real reason you won't have coffee with me again. Is it because of a guy? Do you have a boyfriend?"
"No. No boyfriend," I say, still confused by the tooth thing. "So, wait. There's nothing wrong with your teeth?"
"This one's crooked," he says, pointing to one I can't even see it's so far back. "Other than that, my teeth are fine."
"You're strange," I say, trying not to smile but then realizing I already am. This guy has an odd sense of humor but I like it. He's different, and I like different. I'm different too. I never feel like I fit anywhere, so I latch onto people I think do, then end up finding they aren't right for me.
"So what's the real reason?" he asks, getting serious. "You don't have a boyfriend. My teeth don't bother you. So what is it?"
I hesitate. I don't like telling people this. Actually I don't think I ever have. When people see me digging in the trash, it's obvious I'm homeless. They don't have to ask.
"I'm busy," I blurt out. "I don't have time."
"Are you in school?" he asks.
Why am I not telling him the truth? This is dumb. I need to just say it. I need to tell him I'm homeless. But I can't make myself say those words.
"I'm not in school. Just busy with other stuff."
"Do you live around here?"
"Um, kind of." I move the fritter bag closer and slide my finger over the crease in the fold that's keeping it closed. I press it down, trying to focus on anything but this conversation because it's making me uncomfortable and I really just want it to end.
"Sorry," he says. "I'm asking too many questions, aren't I? I have a tendency to do that. Maybe because I'm a lawyer."
I look up at him. "I thought you were only half a lawyer?"
He chuckles. "You're right. So I shouldn't be asking questions at all." He looks down at the table, then back up at me. "I know this may sound strange, but when I saw you last night I really wanted to get to know you."
"Why?"
"Well, for one, you said hi to me, which hardly anyone has done since I moved here. And then, I don't know, you just seemed like a nice person. Down to earth. Real."
"What makes you say that? You don't even know me."
"Yeah, but sometimes you can just tell. First impressions tell you a lot. And just looking at you...don't take this the wrong way because I'm saying this as a compliment."
I stare at him, waiting for him to continue.
"You're not all made up, like most girls. No makeup, or very little if you do have it on. Your hair is natural, not coated in product. And you dress casual. It makes you seem laid-back. Comfortable. I like that."
"So you're saying I'm ugly." I fold my arms over my chest.
"No! Not at all. Are you kidding? You're beautiful. What I'm saying, and apparently doing a horrible job of, is that you're real. You don't pretend to be someone else." He shakes his head. "Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything. Sometimes I'm really bad at explaining what I mean and this might've been my worst attempt ever. I was trying to compliment you. Tell you how much I like you and, well, think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He glances up at me with a sheepish grin. "But I failed. It happens when I get nervous."
"I make you nervous?"
"Not in a bad way. I was nervous because I want to see you again and I know if I screw this up, you'll say no. But you already told me no so..."
"I might—" I stop before I agree to it. For a moment, I almost forgot I was homeless. I got caught up in the fantasy of being a normal girl sitting with a guy she's attracted to and feeling for a brief second like I could actually have this. Like I could have a friendship, or maybe even a relationship, with a really nice guy who's also really hot and who I really, really like.
"You might what?" he asks cautiously.
"I need to go." I grab the fritter bag and stand up. "I just remembered I have something to do and it really needs to be done tonight."
"Wait, you're leaving?" He quickly stands. "We just got here."
"Yeah, but like I said, I forgot I had something to do."
"What?" he says in a challenging tone. "What do you have to do?"
"None of your business," I say, not looking at him. "Lawyer or not, you're right. You ask too many questions. You should really work on that." I pick up my latte.
"Please," he says, his voice softening. "Please just give me a few more minutes. I'll stop asking you questions. We can talk about anything you want. Trees. Birds. The meaning of life. Why there's no eggs in eggplant. The ongoing debate over bathroom selfies. Or why—"
"Okay, stop." I laugh. "I'll stay a few more minutes if you'll take a breath."
He was talking so fast he didn't give himself time to breathe. He's desperate to get me to stay, but I don't know why. Is he just lonely being in a new town?
We sit back down.
"You gonna eat that?" he asks, pointing to the paper sack.
"Um, you can have it." I push it toward him. I was planning to save it and eat it tomorrow to hold me until I could find more food but if he really wants it, he can have it.
"It's yours," he says. "I just thought you might want it now before it gets stale. You want a plate?"
"I don't need one." I decide to just eat it now because I AM really hungry. I'm used to being hungry but it's a feeling I don't like, especially at night. It's hard to sleep when you're hungry.
Taking the fritter out, I set it on the bag and slide it over to him. "Want some?"
"No thanks." He eyes the golden brown pastry drizzled with icing. "Although it does look really good."
"Have some." I tear it in half, take mine, and slide the other half toward him.
"You sure?"
"Totally. You have to try it. They're the best I've ever had. They get them from this bakery in Aurora."
"That's a suburb, right?"
"Yeah. You really need to drive around. Check out the city. You have a car, right?"
"I do. I just haven't taken the time to go explore anywhere yet." He rips off a piece of fritter but doesn't eat it. "Would you be willing to show me around sometime? Like maybe this weekend? I could drive. I'd just need you to tell me where to go."
"I can't. And in case you didn't realize it, that was a question."
"More of a request." He half smiles.