crosswords

Tom walked into the usual café, sat at the usual seat and ordered the usual cup of coffee. He mechanically swung open his laptop and placed his fingers on the keyboard. He kept them there for what seemed to him like ages, but he didn't type anything. He caught his reflection in the screen. A pair of sad eyes stared back at him. Come on Tom, they seemed to be urging, get a grip of yourself. Write something. Anything. But nothing would come. Not even one word. Tom swore under his breath and slammed the computer shut. He scratched the back of his head. For the first time in months he looked round the café. The morning sun was coyly casting its light through the dusty windows. A lot of chairs were still stacked up on the tables. The place was empty, save for an old man filling in crosswords on yesterday's paper and a girl reading in the opposite corner of the café. She was wearing a purple dress, and Tom couldn't help looking at her long folded legs. She turned her head towards him, and he quickly looked down. He thought he would pretend to work at his computer, but he realized that he had closed it. He felt his ears burning. He raised his head again and pretended to stare out the window. From the corner of his eye he sensed that the girl was looking at him. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. He looked outside and focussed on a pigeon that was rummaging for food in front of the baker's across the street. After a while, he slowly turned his head back towards the girl. She was reading again, holding the book with one hand and playing with her hair with the other. God, she was so cute. How could girls be so cute without even realizing it, he thought. He wondered what she was reading. It looked like a novel. Was she a Hemingway girl, a fan of jazz and of postcard Paris? Or was she the Austen type, a lost soul, a romantic dreamer? Or was she both? He squinted, and tried to make out some of the words, but she was sitting too far away. He suddenly realized that she was looking at him. She smiled, and waved at him. He smiled back awkwardly. She raised the book and pointed at the title on the cover: The Brothers Karamazov. Tom raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word "impressive". They looked at each other for a while. Then they turned away and blushed. When they looked back at each other, they burst out laughing. The girl opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted:
"Hey, maybe you youngsters could help me out," said the old man without lifting his eyes from his newspaper. "Ten-letter word, Newton's laws. What could it be?"
 Tom and the girl looked at the old man, then at each other. They burst out laughing again. Tom turned to the old man. "I think the answer is attraction," he said. He looked back at the girl. She was looking down at the floor, and her face was bright red.
"Hm... attraction," muttered the old man. "I think you're right, kiddo. Can you help me with another one?"
But no answer came. The boy and the girl were standing in the middle of the room, lips locked.

by shamrock