Chapter #2 (George)

George

I got out of my car and anxiously headed to Starbucks. I wasn’t anxious to see my girlfriend, Marla, but I was anxious to see the beautiful creature I had first noticed here a couple days ago. I walked through the door, first noticing she wasn’t there, then I noticed the barista-Mark was it?-perking up when I walked in. I went up to the counter to order the drinks, and I noticed that Mark (That's it, right?) giving me a weird look, not patronizing but kind of like "I know something about you." Because I was there first I was in charge of ordering my drink and Marla’s disgusting tea drink, she offered it to me once, it was really nasty. It was so annoying for me to have Marla insist on getting that crap because she thought it would make her loose weight. Just after I had gotten the drinks Marla walked through the door, kissed me, and grabbed her drink from my hands. Marla started talking, but I couldn’t listening to anything she said, because the girl I had seen was walking through the door. I could hardly breath looking at her, she seemed to radiate confidence. Sadly and pathetically, I started analyzing everything she did, trying to find out more about her. I had already noticed how beautiful she was when she walked but I knew there would be more to her, unlike most girls I've been out with who were pretty, but could not have been more annoying to talk to. She had a beauty that was so unique, it wasn’t an annoyingly lucky beauty or an overdone with makeup pretty, it just seemed natural, happy, and smart. Her looks weren’t the only think catching me about her, her attitude was, undescribable, but so mature and pulled together. I had managed to figure out a few things about her; that she was probably 25, single (Well, I hope!), smart, and totally gorgeous (that was obvious though.) When the girl walked up to get her drink I found myself deaffly and mutely staring at her, but I nodded at Marla without listening to even one word she said. I was too busy watching that other girl so intently that I could tell which songs that came on she knew because she nodded her head and tapped her foot to the beat. Although I knew that Marla would figure out what was going on because of the way I was acting and staring, all I could think was "She’s perfect.’ As ( thought about her I sort of wondered if we ever met, would she like that I figured her out so well, or would she think I was some kind of sadistic killer?