PART 2 (a few weeks later):

I have thrown myself entirely back into the pond of uncertainty. Yours translates as mine.
Here I am, clumsily poised at the table in the window, stroking my mug of tea. My hand is slightly shaking and it’s not low blood sugar.
I’m not here to see you. I’m here to meet Sarah, to drink tea and chat. In fact I haven’t even looked at you.
“Did she sleep with Carl then?”
I am engrossed in my discussion about Ella’s love life. On another day or in another place perhaps, I actually would be. Ella is almost admirable in the amount of men she works her way through. Her ability to bed a man by merely looking at him and deciding to is astonishing.
“Yeah, of course!” Sarah grins. “Apparently he smokes in bed though, a big no no for Ella!”
I smile and stupidly gulp my tea.
“Smoking in the bedroom at all is pretty revolting. Good for her, on the next hey!”
You and your desperation to smoke – it’s enough to put any girl off. I summon some of Ella’s decisiveness; don’t stop until you’ve found someone worthy of you.
“Shall we have more tea? Go crazy?”
Drinking more tea is a twofold ploy. I get to stay here and I get to avoid wine. If I don’t drink wine I won’t share the panic inside me while I stay here. I am calm. You are behind the bar.
“Hello” you smile.
You are friendly and almost familiar in your tone. But hello is all you offer and I respond in kind.
“Can I have a normal tea and a peppermint tea please?”
I am not here to see you, not to make conversation or squirm at our memories. I am here to drink tea with my friend and ordering tea is a simple task.
“I’ll bring them over to you.”
You smile but you are busy making the tea, taking my money.
The time you take to give me my change! Are you waiting for me to make conversation? Proving your power over me? Somehow I have followed you down the length of the bar to the till to collect my 20p change. There is nothing sensible passing between my brain and my lips; I’m too hot suddenly and I sit back down.
“How are things between you and Matt now?”
I’m not sure why but I always refer to other people’s relationships when I am anxious about my own.
Sarah’s expression tells me all I need to know but she will tell me the details anyway. That’s what I enjoy about female friends, they talk.
“Here’s the normal tea”
You put the mug down in front of Sarah and I know that you are using the word ‘normal’ provocatively. I’ve joked about my ‘abnormal’ taste for herbal tea with other staff here. I ignore the word, its implications.
You go back to the bar to get my tea. You are bringing them over separately.
“Thank you.”
I don’t look more than vaguely in your direction. I only want you to be smiling. I am simply polite and you return to the bar. Or the kitchen, I don’t know because I don’t look.
I wonder how many girls you have slept with since me.
I chat with Sarah for over an hour and you stayed tucked away behind the hatch into the kitchen. When I look over I catch your eye and you smile.
Triumphant bastard.
How have I ended up feeling so sticky and unsure of myself? I left it weeks before coming in. I speed dated. I thought about me, not you, me! I thought I moved on and as soon as I walked back in, I melted.
You occasionally make an appearance behind the bar, to change the music, chat with your mum. When it hits six o’clock you put your hat on. It must be time to pull in the punters with a taste of bohemian spirit.
As I stand up to leave, ‘Come on Eileen’ is playing. Did you put it on? It doesn’t mean anything if you did. Maybe your mum put it on.
I’m sitting near the door and I walk out of it without looking back towards you. I want to promise you that I won’t come in again.
When I get into my car, I turn it around so I can drive past the window. I play the Stone Roses very loudly and as I drive I yell, completely sincerely, that “I wanna be adored!”

PART 3: (Thursday)

Then you call.
I don’t usually answer my phone to unknown numbers. Your smugness swims down the line.
“That wasn’t soon, Tor!”
It takes a second for me to recognise your voice. I suddenly feel very sick.
“I’m glad you did though.”
You sound so calm and don’t seem to have noticed at all that I haven’t spoken since hello.
“Um, sorry to be curious but how on earth did you get my number?”
You laugh and I feel genuinely creeped out.
“Dean? Seriously.”
“Tor, you gave it to me when we, that night, when I stayed at yours. You wrote it on my hand.”
I love it when these memories disappear until someone reminds you of them; where do they hide until that point?
“And you haven’t washed since then?”
Thank God, using my wit shows you that I’m calm and absolutely unflustered by speaking to you.
“Nope.”
You half laugh but I think I might have slightly offended you. Good.
“So, did you enjoy your tea the other day?”
Oh wow, you are actually slightly socially inept. That makes me feel properly calm.
“Delicious. Thanks. But it wasn’t nearly as juicy as the conversation.”
Oh no! I realise as I say it that it sounds like we talked about you. That night! Oh god, there is no way to back out of that one. Shit.
“Really?”
You sound cheeky. You definitely think it was about you.
“Yeah, we mostly discussed our friend Ella. She always makes for good conversation topics…”
Oh, give up Tor, you dug the hole, just stay in it now.
“So, did I leave something behind the other day?” I haven’t noticed anything but I am slightly scattier since you distracted my mind by taking up every possible space in there.
“No. Not that I’ve discovered. I just thought, you know, it’s been a while since you gave me your number and it was only polite to use it so…”
Excuse the expression, but, the penny drops. With a super loud clunk.
“Sorry Dean, my red light isn’t on tonight.”
Now you know you can’t have more of me on demand, you are silent.
“Ok. Sorry Tor. If I offended you?”
Entirely.
“No, I’m not offended Dean. I told you, I’m fine with the one night thing. We agreed it was fun remember?”
Get it through to your thick head that I have not wilted because of you; I am very much ok.
“Ok. Cool. Good. It was fun.”
You pause but I know there is more and I wait. Interrupting people is one thing I have learned not to do.
“So, well, I called because I… I called to see how you’re doing?”
No you didn’t.
Do you actually like me? My stomach turns inside out and I clutch onto the handset very hard. I cannot afford to get carried away with fantasy.
“I’m good thank you. I’ve been seriously cold but well.”
Now I pause.
“How about you? How are things at the bar?”
“Yeah, ok. It’s busy, I'm tired, but I'm not complaining."
Come on Dean; There is something else here and you need to say it, or I do so we can end this hideous awkward conversation and get on with our lives. Or not.