"Tomorrow," I say. "I'll do it tomorrow."
"Jesus Christ, she's right there, man," Ralph keeps hissing in my ear. "You get up, and you walk over to her. You don't even know if she's gonna be here tomorrow."
"She's here every night," I murmur, looking at the girl sitting two tables away with a laptop and a cup of coffee perched expectantly on the surface. It's a wonder she can't hear Ralph, as loud as the asshole's being.
"Yeah, but you know who's gonna be here tomorrow? Not you, because you're gonna be too busy being stuck at home on the couch, idiot. This is your one chance, so go."
She really is cute, though. Ralph might be a jerk, but he's my best friend and he's not wrong. I just always notice the way the light reflects off her glasses and I get lost.
"Is this about Rachel?" Ralph spits into my ear, because of course he has to go back to <i>that</i> again. "No, it's not about Rachel," I say, annoyed. "That's over." Ralph looks dubious. "Yeah, well, coulda fooled me with the way you talk about her."
The coffee shop is clearing out. Looks like they're going to close in maybe ten minutes. She's still finishing some work. "Okay, fine. If it'll get you off my ass, I'll do it. Jeez." I stand up. "Alright then," he says, "I'm going to the car. If you don't have a number to show me, I'm gonna kill you." As I take unintentionally heavy footfalls towards her table Ralph quietly scurries out the door, and then it's just the barista, her, and me.
I sit down at the table. She pulls her headphones off and looks up at me with a smile. "You're Mike, right? We took stats together. What's up?"
She actually remembers me. First time that's ever happened. "Yeah," I say. "Actually, I wanted to, uh, ask you something."
"Sure, go ahead." Her smile isn't gone.
"What are you doing this weekend?"
"On second thought, forget it."