Forgettable

After being gone for six years, I have moved back to the small Podunk town that I used to loathe. Surprisingly, I moved back by choice. When I lived here before, I found it boring and simple, which as a young woman who had just turned twenty-one, this was the worst thing imaginable. I never planned on coming back, but the older I get, the more I long for simplicity. I did not stay in touch with anyone while I was gone, and I’m not a fan of social media, so my return will be a surprise, plus, in a town as small as this one, a new person or a person coming back will spread through the grapevine rather quickly.

Ever since I left, there was one thing I really missed about the town, and that was the small coffee shop called Hoboken. It is a super cute shop where they roast their own coffee beans, and it doesn’t hurt that the owner, DeWayne, is incredibly hot… When I lived here before, I would come in every morning for my regular order, a medium iced latte with caramel and hazelnut. It didn’t take long for DeWayne to memorize my order, and eventually would just start making it as soon as my car pulled into the parking lot. There was always some light flirting between the two of us, I didn’t want to come on too strong because it was possible that he was just being nice and wasn’t interested in anything other than my business.

That was, until he wrote his number on the cup sleeve, and that was my last day in town. I had already decided that I was leaving, and while I was extremely interested in him and wanted to get to know him better, but I had goals, and that goal was to get the hell out of this town. So, I’m back…and no matter where I traveled, the coffee just could not measure up. I doubt that he would still be there, at this point the business has got to be so successful that he can sit back and not have to get his hands dirty.

I was wrong.

As soon as I walked into Hoboken, there’s DeWayne. He looks the same, a few gray hairs, but not too drastic. He looks in my direction when I walk through the door. I give the biggest, most stupid smile. I instantly regret it; I look way too eager and pathetic. He returns a big smile and greets me. “Hi there, you must be new in town.” I freeze. He does not remember me. “Kinda…I lived here about six years ago.” He looks me over, “well, I would be offended that you never came into my café, but I’ll let it slide for a pretty face.” I can feel my face burning red. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. Ugh, what am I doing? I am not usually this pathetic, but he is familiar, handsome, successful, and kind. The exact opposite of every man I’ve dated since I left town. I thank him, then order my usual drink, wondering if that will spark some sort of memory. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Once my drink is ready, I go pick an armchair in the corner and pull out my e-reader. I’m currently reading a murder mystery and quickly get lost in it. I’m not sure how much time has passed, but all of a sudden, I’m startled by DeWayne. Once again, I am burning red, because just him approaching me made me jump. “Woah, sorry about that, just wanted to make sure your drink was to your liking”.

“Sorry, I was just so invested in my book, I didn’t even see you walk over. The latte is delicious, thank you.” He smiles and nods and walks back to the counter and takes care of the couple that just walked in. One thing that I discovered while traveling, is that if I want something to happen, I must put in the effort. I carry a small journal in my purse, in case I want to write something down or need to make a list on the go. I jot down my number in my best handwriting, add my name, and draw a heart for good measure. Maybe it’s a good thing he doesn’t remember me, he might think that I ghosted him all those years ago.

I pack up my e-reader and throw away my empty cup. I am starting to get anxious, part of me wants to just walk out and not give him my number. Who knows? Maybe after a while he’ll ask me out, just like before. No, I can’t do that, the ball is in my court, I know he was interested back then, I should just go for it.

When I approach the counter, his back is turned to me, I could still make a quick getaway. He turns around and I catch his gaze. “Can I get you something else?” he asks with one eyebrow raised. “No, actually,” I hesitate. “but I would like to know if maybe I could get you dinner one of these nights.” I hand the piece of paper with my number on it to him. He grins, “wow, I like a woman who goes after what she wants. I would love to go out with you. I’ll text you.” I grin, hopefully not as dumb looking as before, “awesome, I look forward to it”, I say and walk to the exit. I get in my car and squeal from excitement. I start up my car and start to drive towards my house on the other side of town. Finally! After all this time, we’re going on a date. As quickly as the excitement entered, it vanished.

Do I tell him that we used to know each other? Would it be worse to act as if we’ve never seen each other before, or tell him the truth…I technically did ghost him? Was I really that forgettable?