My stomach started growling so I walked towards a cafe. So many choices.
"Can I get you something?" the voice was familiar. I looked up from my wallet that I got out in advance. It was the guy I got ice cream on. I tried to act cool just in case he didn't remember me.
"Umm can I get a cold hot chocolate with extra extra whip cream and a chocolate chip cookie?" I like whip cream okay?
"Coming right up," another worked said.
"Thank you," I waited for a seat to open. When someone left I immediately sat down.
"Here you go," the ice cream guy said. As he settled the cookie down on the table, the plates tipped, crashing onto the floor. He bent down to pick it up, I got on my knes as well to help. He held my wrist again.
"What are you doing?"
"Helping," I smiled, "last time, I was clumsy, but now you are, but this is how nice people act, unlike you," I mumbed the last part.
"Why?"
"To apologize, and to teach you how to be okay with some things."
"He started at me, "What?" I asked, "Nothing," he went back to picking up the peices of plates on the ground.
"Go get a broom," I said and he ran to the back. I kept picking up the plate peices when I got a pinky sized cut on my palm. He came out from the back with a sweeper and dustpan and plastice bag instead of a broom.
"Oh, you bleeding," he noticed.
"Oh it's okay,"
"No it's not," he paused, "It's going to get all over the plates,"
"So? Aren't you going to throw it away? Or are you going to glue all the peices together?" I laughed a little. He just blinked a few times.
"Here," I let go of the plate peices from my hands into the plastic bad.
He ran to the back again but this time with a first aid kit.
"I said it's okay," he ignored me and continued spraying this anti bacteria spray and applied a bandaid on my cut. He got me another cookie since the other fell onto the ground and might of gotten glass inside of it. I got a little bored and read.
"Umm exuse me," a worker said.
"Yes?" I put my hand in the book to mark where I was as I got out my bookmark and stuffed it in there.
"The store is going to close in five minutes," he warned me.
"Oh okay, thank you," I stashed my book in my bag.
"Umm before you leave," I stopped moving, "I was wondering," he sighed, "If you want, no I mean okay with me walking you home?" he stared at his toes. What should I do?
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