She’s dressed casually in a long-sleeved, white v-neck shirt, jeans, and worn, brown leather boots that run up to just below her knees. She stands small next to Jase when she speaks, “You again.”
“You two know each other?” Mark asks.
“Not really,” I answer, finally breaking my eyes away from her.
“He’s come into Common Grounds a couple times to get coffee. How do you guys know each other?” she asks Mark.
“He owns Blur, where the band has been playing lately.”
“And the guy who gave me the tickets,” Jase says and then turns to me and adds, “Thanks, man.”
“No problem at all,” I tell him and flick my eyes over to the girl, only to see she now has her back to me as she listens to the band play.
Mark and I go find a table to sit down while Jase stays back for a moment with his friend. I still don’t know her name. I sit down and look over at them. She looks upset when Jase reaches down and holds her hand. I immediately wonder if her mood has something to do with me being here. God, why am I feeling so self-conscious?
They start heading over, and she sits down across from me, slipping her leopard scarf off her neck and laying it on the table. The two times I’ve seen her, her hair has been pulled up, messy, but for some reason, it looked good on her. Tonight it’s down, thick and layered. She pulls my focus when she says, “I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.”
I smile. I don’t know why, but something about her is intriguing, so I let it linger on my lips when I tell her, “Ryan. Ryan Campbell.”
“I’m Candace.” She looks at my cup of coffee, and teases, “Ever drink anything besides coffee?”
“I work a lot of late nights.”
“So, Ryan,” Jase starts, “Candace will be graduating this year as well. She’s a dance major.”
I notice Candace looking annoyed at Jase for saying that, but I shrug it off and ask her, “Dance. What kind?”
“Ballet,” she tells me and then takes a sip of her beer.
“Can’t say I know anything about that,” I say with light laughter.
“It’s okay. Nobody ever does.”
This chick seems way out of the realm of the girls I normally talk to. A ballerina? I find myself wanting to keep her talking because I like the sound of her soft voice. “So, I take it you’re the best friend who loves this band?” I question, nodding my head toward the stage.
She shifts, almost nervously, in her seat. “Yeah.”
She looks over at Jase, who is sitting next to her, and I watch their silent exchange, unsure of what’s going on. I think back to what I’ve heard Mark say about this girl.
“She’s going through some heavy stuff . . . Jase is staying the night with her.”
Watching her peel off the label on her beer bottle, I try to push whatever is bothering her away, and ask, “So, Candace, what do you plan on doing when you finish school?”
When she looks up at me, I notice the coloring of her eyes. They’re a light gold that almost flake into a deep emerald green.
“I hope to dance professionally while time allows. Not sure where that will happen. New York was always the plan, but I’m not so sure now.” She looks over to Jase again, but he’s engrossed in a conversation with Mark. I notice one of her brows twitch up. Nervous tick. I wonder if she’s even aware that she has one.
Man, this girl is easily distracted. I bring her back in when I say, “I love New York. You ever been?”
“Yeah, several times. It’s a great city. I actually lived there the summer before my senior year of high school. I had a scholarship to one of the conservatories in the city.”
“So, your parents just let you live there alone for the summer?” I ask, surprised that a parent would let their teenage daughter run off to New York City all by herself.
“Umm, yeah. My parents are . . . well, not your typical involved parents,” she tries to explain.
Moving past it, I continue, “So, that’s where you’d like to wind up then?”
“That’s the plan,” she says with a hint of a smile, which also reveals a hint of a dimple in her right cheek.
Damn, I feel like a deprived puppy, infatuated over details of a chick I don’t even know.
“What are you two talking about?” Mark asks, and I take the distraction, answering, “New York City.”
The band starts in on another song, and I know it well—’Infinity.’ I watch Candace stand and walk back to the bookcase Mark was at earlier. The three of us get up and follow her over, and I step next to her, resting my elbows on the bookcase as I lean forward.
I listen to the music, all the while feeling her eyes on me. I know I shouldn’t look, but I do anyway, catching her. She gives me a soft grin and turns her attention back to the band.
Mark and Jase head to the bar, and I notice Candace taking a step back. I don’t look at her. I don’t want her to know that I want to. I’m not even sure I know why I want to—but I do. I keep my eyes forward, and when I can’t help myself, I turn my head back to see her eyes locked on me. She’s flustered as she stumbles around and runs smack into Mark, whispering something in his ear. Mark turns to Jase, and when he does, Jase steps over and asks her, “You ready to go?”
Mark looks to me and says, “Hey, man. It was good seeing ya. We’ll catch up later this week.”