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Too shaky to sketch, I put the pad away and pull out my phone instead. I have a message from my artist meetup group, specifically from a woman named Callie that I had hit it off within the group chat room.
Callie: Hey, me and a couple of the other group members are going to see that new horror movie tonight. You want to join? I know you just got in last night but it might be fun.
I chew my lip. This isn't something I normally would do, but it sounds better than staying inside again, freaking out about a car outside and what that might mean.
Me: Sure, why not. Where is it showing?
She texts me the location and time. It's a late showing at 9 PM, but it's not like I have any pressing appointments.
Me: Cool, I'm in.
The smile that crosses my face is wide, and the sudden butterflies in my stomach make me giddy. It's been a long time since I've done something this spontaneous.
I'm just finishing my coffee and gathering my things when a shadow falls over my table. When I look up, there's no one there, but I'm hit by a wave of warm cedarwood scent.
And inexplicably, there's a croissant on the table in front of me—the same sort I ordered yesterday—piping hot.
"Hey! Did someone leave their order here?"
I ask the question loudly, but no one answers. I turn in my seat, searching for someone who looks familiar, but none of the customers are looking in my direction.
I could swear the man from yesterday was in the crowd. There was a flash of dark hair, the same crisp, dark suit, but he had gone so quickly that I couldn't confirm.
My fingers skim over the croissant, and it's fresh from the oven. Could he have brought it to me? How did he know the exact thing I would have ordered?
It seems crazy. Like some kind of fantasy.
I grab the pastry, inhaling the delicious smell. As I take the first bite, all I can think is … whatever happens next, I'm not sure I'm ready, but I'm definitely curious.
That night, after a dinner of microwaved spaghetti, I'm still not ready for the movie.
But I don't have the guts to cancel either, so I just dress up a little, put on some makeup and a cute outfit, and tell myself that it's going to be a fun night. It doesn't help that my usual idea for a fun night is curling up on the couch while drawing or reading. This is a totally different level of social interaction.
When I step into the theater, the noise from the lobby hits me like a wall, and I shrink back for a second. No, no, don't be a wimp.
Callie sees me before I find her. She has a hand up, waving me down. "You made it! Come on, we grabbed seats near the back."
I'm still so nervous as I go around the small group and introduce myself to the three new faces. Callie, a woman my age, who's an artist and a writer. Her friend, a guy in his mid-twenties named Daniel. His friend, another guy named Andrew, who's about our age and works as a web designer.
It's all very casual and easy, and I'm grateful for it. It's only ten minutes until the movie starts, and we're all exchanging little anecdotes about each other's jobs and hobbies.
"So, how long have you been doing digital art for?"
Andrew's question is directed at me, and I shrug, trying not to feel like a dork. "I'm not sure. A while, I guess. I've always loved drawing and painting, but it wasn't until a year or so ago that I started dabbling in digital."
Callie nudges him. "Her artwork is amazing. She's posted some in the group. It's a lot of nature paintings, but they're gorgeous."
"Thanks," The smile I give her is genuine. She radiates a warmth that makes all this small talk feel easy. "As I'm sure we all know, the money from online commissions is way better than physical work, though. So that's why I've been making the switch."
"That's smart," he says. "It must have been a hard choice for you, though, right? I mean, you seem pretty passionate about your art."
"It's not so bad." My gaze flickers around the group. "I'm hoping to score a longer term gig at that job fair next week someone posted about. Maybe some illustration work."
"Oh, yeah, I posted that." Andrew, who has taken the seat next to me, leans in. "I'm going too if you want a ride."
I almost take him up on the offer out of an ingrained desire to be a people pleaser, but I stop myself. "Well … maybe. I can drive myself."
"It's cool. If you change your mind, let me know." He pats my hand, and the contact makes me jump. "I'd love to get to know you better."
