Douchebag. I concluded again a half hour later when I was forced to listen to him ramble on and on about his superior football skills.

I sat uncomfortably in my seat at the coffee shop, whose once pure intrinsic nature now felt tainted by stupidity. I tried to drown out his annoying story of how he got his team to state by taking powerful sips of my coffee. The taste was bitter--hot--just how I enjoyed coffee in the morning. At night, I wanted something with a nice sugar high that would easily make me fall asleep after I crashed, but in the morning, I needed something bland that would scorch my tongue, keeping me awake.

I became solely interested in my drink, only occasionally responding to the self-absorbed jerk in front of me with a forced nod or unenthusiastic "mhm". He just went on and on; any edgewise of conversation I tried to throw in, ultimately got chucked in the refinery like year old iPhones. In the end, I became completely silent, only focusing on the bitterness of my coffee and thinking briefly about Metsa. I tried to force thoughts of her out my head, but it was impossible.

"So yeah, the dude ended up severely damaging like some of his tendons or something..." Throw some coffee down my throat. "ended up losing his scholarship. I felt you, know, baaaad at first. Like, it was my fault, but it's not like, I wanted that to happen. I only stepped on his arm for my team. And we won cause of me! So isn't that what's all that matters?"

"Oh, yeah totally. As long as you win, nothing else matters, not even common decency." I responded, sarcastically--mocking him--yet he simply nodded his head in agreement. He probably has said something like that along those lines too, only full-fledged serious. Yup, total douchebag.

I leapt into the comfort of my coffee--cup warming my hands--shielding eye contact.

"Anyway, I gotta piss. The new powder shakes stuff my coach got me on, makes me piss like some prego chick. But the stuff works great, already grown a lot of muscle mass." Good to know. He flexed, subtly, yet obviously wanting me to see. Then he walked off with an undeserving aura of superiority attached to his movements, hands pushing the bathroom doors open as if they were chapel doors in the climax of a romantic comedy. Yup, how much I regretted this morning already.

I leaned back into my seat, trying to replace my feeling of uneasiness with physical comfort. Unfortunately, a wooden chair is about as comfortable as...well, a wooden chair. Luckily, no splinters, but still uneasiness became my shadow, draped over me until it felt like all I was, was the feeling of uneasiness. Yes, I became a feeling. Not a person but a feeling. I recognized this state all too well. The state I had whenever I didn't want to be somewhere, whenever I didn't want to be with someone. Those times when you just want to be left all alone--isolated from the Outer World, spinning around inside your Inner World. Yes...your Inner World. In the Outer World, you are expected to behave and act a certain way and your role completely changes based on the situation, but your Inner World is composed of its own logic, its own identity, its own state of being.  No matter how much gravity the Outer World pushes onto our Inner World, it almost always rebounds to sit back onto its axis. Maybe not as perfectly as it did once before, but still it sits back on its axis.

Really, all I wanted to do was just leave--ditch the asshole--go home and take a nap before my 1:00 class. But while such an action wouldn't make me as bad as someone who purposefully steps on someone's arm to win some football game, it still wouldn't look all the best on my "Nice Guy Resume." So I sat patiently, waiting for him to return--hoping that the roof would open up and the mothership would come and take me away. How much in that moment of absurdity did I wish for that.

A minute later, he came out the bathroom. But, instead of going straight back to the table, he quickly took a left and walked out the door. Leaving me, of course, to pay the whole bill. Once again...douchebag.

With a sigh, I picked up the check and was getting ready to leave when, by turning ever so slightly to the right, I noticed a pair of eyes looking at me.

Sitting in her usual spot was Metsa, eyes locked on me, barely blinking, face barely moving. How long was she there for? The whole time?

My stance took on the form of a glacier as I looked at her. She noticed me looking back. Her eyes widen. Lips moved. Slightly. Like a weak breeze. Clearly, she felt like saying something but became flustered. She blushed and then turned away before projecting whatever thought she had in mind. I couldn't help internally laughing at such an action.

"So, you're here I see." I said like a nonchalant male idol, pulling out the chair across from her. Really, I was quite nervous myself as it took added effort to pull out the chair. I sat down, facing her, yet she still refused to look at me, eyes scanning her lap. The field of red pigment dabbing her cheeks expanded twice its original range. She was probably still embarrassed from yesterday. Not that I blamed her; I was probably making matters worse for her; I'm sure all she wanted to do was forget--crawl back into her Inner World and escape the outer world forcing her to change her behavior. I did the same thing this morning with my cellphone, yet I decided to face the world and it turned out...well, not so great, but that's not the point!

Sarcastic sigh. "Don't tell me I have to do all the talking, or am I invisible all of a sudden?"

She plopped her tiny head up, eyes glistening. "Who, were you sitting with?"

"Huh?" I said on impulse, psyche already trying to repress itself of that person. I didn't even know his name... "Oh, right...just some douchebag."

"Douchebag?"

"Oh...it means, umm..." Means, what does it mean? "It just means some mean person...that's all."

Her forehead crumpled. "So, why would you want to sit with someone who's mean?"

Good question. "Because, I only like talking to mean people." A small gasp flooded out her mouth as soon as I said that.

"So, does that mean you think I'm mean?"

She looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"I was joking."

"Oh..." She looked down into her lap, repeating her behavior from yesterday, left arm clutching her right arm like she was supporting a fatal injury. Then, all of sudden, her left leg began shaking--slightly--yet enough to rattle the small table. Before I could think of saying or doing anything to snap her out of her behavior, she suddenly spoke.

"...freak..."

"Huh?"

"You must think I'm a freak...crying in front of you. You, a practical stranger. I barely know you, yet this is the second time I cried in front of you. So you must...you must...no... Have to think. Have to think, think I'm a freak..." She continued to look down as she said that, gloomy cloud hanging over her.

I was unsure what to do--how to react. Part of me simply wanted to rise out of my seat and leave her behind like I was a certain football player. Most likely, however, such a thought came from a feeling of being unable to help her. Help her? Was I trying to revive the idea of chivalry? Truly, such a practice was outdated for a reason. Wait a minute...this had nothing to do with chivalry! No, I'm just a nice guy looking to help someone who happened to be a cute girl who, luckily, didn't throw a hood over her head and went off running towards the rest of the villagers at the mere sight of me.

I shrugged my shoulders as my eyes took notice of how her tears still stayed trapped once more in her eyes, like tiny rafts teetering on the edge of falling over. "No, I don't think you're a freak. I mean, I barely know you, but you seem like a very selfless person to me. Like, I don't how to explain it, but you seem pretty nice to me. Warm. Accepting." Why was I saying these thoughts coiled in my head? Not like, I had very much to go on...just...intuition... "Besides, if I am a stranger, I don't see why you should care what I think. People are going to think what they think about someone regardless of the actions they take. You shouldn't care so much. I mean, if I thought you were a freak, I certainly wouldn't be here talking to you, now would I? So, don't worry so much."

She looked up at me, face still scrunched up by sadness, yet the warm light she first projected, the first time I met her, speared away the dark cloud that hung over her. "Do you...really mean that?" I nodded my head with sincerity. "Well... Thank you, Terry!"

She smiled, wide like a bulky canyon. Yet, I could tell that the smile was forced some. Just what exactly was she struggling with? What existed in her Inner World that was causing her so much trouble? I felt like asking, very curious about her mind. I wanted to know--needed to know. Do you think the forest ever gets sad? What did those words mean?

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Okay, clearly something is bothering you."

She beamed up at me before reverting her gaze back into her lap. "Sorry, guess I'm not the best at hiding my emotions..."

"Who says you have to hide them? Let them out if you want."

She shook her head no. Two quick headshakes like loosening a packet of sugar.

"No, no...I have troubled you enough..."

A short lapse of silence wafted between us. Despite it being misplaced, a tumbleweed rolling its way would be very fitting right about now. I felt like pushing her--making her tell me just what exactly was on her mind. How much I wanted that. Would it be fair, however, to force myself into her Inner World?

A sudden question came to mind. "Do you spend a lot of time here?" She nodded without hesitation. "Do you spend most of your time here?" She cranked her head up a bit, almost to the point where her eyes were staring back at mine, but before that could happen, she quickly withdrew it back as if looking up at me right now would cause a calamity of nuclear proportions.

Suddenly, some strange courage washed over me. Powerful and new, yet far from feeling forced. I didn't even think about the words that sprung off my lips as I asked, "Say, do you want to go do something?"

"Like what?" She tilted her head to the side.

I shrugged. "I don't know... But being cooped up here all the time isn't a good thing. A change of pace might help you clear your mind." Wait...did I seriously just ask a girl out?

"Oh my God you creep...nooo!"

Thought for sure that that would be her reply to my offer, but instead she simply nodded her head, closed her eyes, smiled and said, "I would like that very much Terry!" Such a simple act, made my knees buckle as I lightly shook my head in disbelieve, like I just took a swag of lemon juice thinking it was lemonade.