Soft No

She seemed off, somehow, like she didn't belong. She jabbed at her muffin, fiddling with the larger fruity chunks and crumbs, separating them from the sugar-topped nuggets, which she must've been avoiding for some dietary restriction or saving for later. Ethan gave her credit for choosing cranberry over blueberry. For him, that alone would've been enough. But it didn't hurt that she was the most beautiful girl he ever saw.

Despite her looks, she seemed humble, almost hiding her attributes. By Ethan's count, four men of varied ages stole a look, whether entering or exiting the cafe. She wore dark glasses and her hair covered much of her face, but somehow her posture gave her away. Her neck bent in a way that signaled elegance - an undeniable spectacle in this blunted collection of grungy, caffeinated students.

He had been sitting there for hours with his papers, but since she came in his ass filled with blood as if he was on foot and running. From the moment she entered, he couldn't balance a single equation - a function that came easily. He couldn't look anywhere but somewhere about her. What she wore, her exposed ankle. She was oblivious and yet in complete control of his focus.

Before he could explain, he was up and approaching her. His friends at the lab would never understand and, frankly, he didn't either. Somehow, approaching a woman with them watching demanded a greater courage. But these conditions seemed enough for what he was carrying that day. He never had a girlfriend and never hit on anyone, so he wasn't sure where this was coming from.

"Hi, I'm Ethan," he offered.

She didn't turn around. He considered repeating himself but louder, then she noticed him standing right in front of her, with his slightly hunch back, as if to impart deference. She removed her headphones.

"Hello. Hi," she said, giving a tight wave.

"Sorry, I'm Ethan...I was just wondering...wondering if you went to school here."

"I'm Ruth. I'm in the grad program." She pointed to the business school's main building.

"Oh, cool. Me too. But for a Biochem PhD."

"That's a pretty tough program."

"It can be, but I've been studying this stuff my whole life it seems, so I feel pretty comfortable with it. I guess it's fun for me."

"That's good to hear. There's nothing more depressing than paying thousands a year in a program you hate just to hide out from the real world."

"Yea. I know."

She smiled in agreement, nodding.

"Well, enjoy your muffin. It looks good."

"Thanks. It is, actually. You should get one."

"I think I will." Ethan pointed back to his table and waved bye as he shuffled back.

He logged back into his computer and re-arranged his papers thinking, "Is that what you're doing?" "Is that what you're doing?" He should has responded, "Is that what you're doing?" when she gave that line about hiding out from the real world. That question alone would've led to a life story, another five minutes of learning about Ruth. He could always learn the lesson immediately after his mistake. That trait always helped him as a student. He thought about where they could've gone had he asked the right question. In his world, they were sharing the muffin and trading sips from each other's hot drinks. They each had their headphones, listening to very different music. That night he held her breasts and licked them both, his saliva painting his cheeks. Months later they were on a beach. Alone. He could barely imagine himself intentionally shirtless before someone else, much less doing so to tan.

"Bye."

Ethan looked up to catch a gentle wave meant just for him. She said it softly, but loud enough for him to hear. She slung her bag over her shoulder, holding the coffee cup and she walked out.

"Ruth," he mouthed to himself. Still high from the exchange, his head went hot. She's not a Ruth, Ethan thought. The name was all wrong for him.