Sammy: 2
Sammy wasn’t use to this; the anxious flutter in her stomach wasn’t just the usual pre-date jitters, it was layered with something else, something heavier – years of trying to be invisible, of shrinking into the background to avoid the stares and whispers, it had left her feeling perpetually out of practise when it came to…, well.., this.
She smoothed down her floral dress, the fabric a stark contrast to the oversized jumpers she would usually favour; the dress was a statement, a whisper of confidence she hoped to carry her through the next hour.
She’d even dared to apply a touch of lipstick, a shade she’d admired on the book covers she shelved at the shop.
Across the street through the steamy window of the small café she saw him; Mark, he was leaning back in his chair – a smile playing on his lips as he scanned the streets, he had yet to spot her, but, he looked genuinely happy from what Sammy could see.
Her heart did another little flutter.
As she made her way forwards; she pushed open the door; the aroma of coffee and cinnamon enveloped her; Mark, his eyes landing on her immediately stood up; his smile widening “Sammy; you look…, wow” he held her gaze for a beat too long, but it wasn’t predator or invasive – it was simply; appreciative.
“Hi Mark” she managed, her voice a little breathy
He pulled out her chair, a gesture so simple and old-fashioned it made her blush “Please sit; I grabbed us the table by the window, I hope that’s alright”
Perfect” she said; meaning it, the sunlight streamed in, bathing the table in a warm glow, it felt…, safe
The early minutes were filled with the usual small talk – the weather, the bookshop, a funny anecdote about a customer with a particular demanding request for a first edition book that was unavailable in the shop; Mark, he listened, he listened with at attentiveness that disarmed her.
He made eye contact, asked thoughtful questions and actually seemed interested in her answers
“So” he said, leaning forwards – his elbows resting on the table “What’s your favourite genre”
It wasn’t a casual question; he was genuinely curious, and for the first time, in a long time, Sammy felt seen; not just the ‘Trans Girl that worked in the Bookshop’ but as ‘Sammy’ a person, a person with passions and preferences.
She told him of her love of romance; ‘soppy romance’ she said with a whimsical smile, she loved romance; he listened, his eyes seem to sparkle with both amusement and genuine interest.
He told her about his work; the job he had at the hotel, he told her of his passion for photography and a dream of doing it as a living, he also admitted his addiction to historical documentaries, something that made a lot of sense to Sammy, he did often spend time in the historical side of the bookshop; they both laughed, their conversation just flowed effortlessly.
As they finished their coffee, Mark reached across the table, his hand gently covering hers – his touch was warm and reassuring “Sammy” he said, his voice soft “I really enjoyed this; I have been wanting to ask you out for ages, I know…, well, things might be different for you, and I just want you to know…, I see you; the real you, and I think you’re amazing”
She felt emotions building as she looked at him “Mark…”
“No pressure of course” he added quickly, retracting his hand, sensing her emotions building “But, if you’re up for it, I would love to take you out again; maybe to that Italian place down the street or something; I hear they have incredible pasta”
Sammy took a deep breath as she smiled at him; the anxiety hadn’t completely vanished, but it was overshadowed by something else now; hope – and maybe, just maybe, something more
“I would like that” she said, her voice trembling slightly “I’d really like that”
Written By: Westley H.
Leave a Reply