I met her for the first time at Lorrey's Café on a warm summer evening. I sat quietly, waiting for her, trying to calm my racing heart. Suddenly, a voice called from behind. Excited, I turned and blurted, "Lucy!"
But it wasn't her.
It was only the waitress, politely asking for my order. Embarrassed, I explained that I was waiting for someone and would order later. She nodded and went off to serve other customers.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. My thoughts grew heavier—What if she doesn't come? What if she dislikes me the moment she sees me? The anxiety tightened around me until another voice broke my spiral. Convinced it was the waitress again, I turned and muttered, "Please wait a little longer, she'll be here soon."
But this time, it wasn't the waitress.
In the warm glow of the evening sun, she stood there. A vision in white, her long black hair shimmered in the golden light of the breeze. Joy radiated from her presence, her sharp features softened by the sunlight, her eyes sparkling with warmth, and her smile so radiant that time itself seemed to pause.
"It's so nice to finally meet you, Sofia," she said sweetly.
Her voice pulled me back to reality. Flustered, I could only manage a clumsy, "Yes." The corners of her mouth dipped slightly, and I cursed myself for my foolishness.
She drifted gracefully into the chair opposite me. Then, in a serious tone, she said, "I was hoping to meet you, but… maybe you didn't want to meet me after all."
Panic surged through me. The words tumbled out before I could stop them: "No! You're just so beautiful I lost my mind."
Instant regret burned in me—until I saw her burst into laughter.
"Oh, so you're even happier to meet me than I thought!" she teased. Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I wanted to vanish. She noticed, perhaps, because her teasing softened.
It was in that moment I realized: blurting out outrageous remarks wasn't always a curse. Sometimes, it was a gift.
From then on, our conversation flowed effortlessly. She told me stories of her journey from New York to Thailand, though I shamefully found myself lost in thought rather than listening. She caught me.
"What's on your mind, Sofia? Are you not feeling well?" she asked, concern in her eyes.
Snapping back, I admitted, "I was just thinking about the first time we met—and now, after all these years, we're here together."
Her smile returned, warm and knowing. "Indeed. Isn't it amusing that I'd meet someone from another country, all because of a website?"
We laughed at the thought, marveling at the strange beauty of online friendships—ours being a rare and successful one. We spent an hour chatting and eating heartily. I discovered her love for small animals, her fondness for novels, and her dislike of sweets. I tucked these details away in my mind, already planning to surprise her with thoughtful gifts in the future.
Lucy loved adventures, though poor health kept her from traveling much. As night fell, her mother, Amanda, called. I offered to drop her at the bus stop, and she agreed.
Outside, an idea struck me. "Lucy," I said mischievously, "would you like a little adventure?"
She accepted without hesitation, which left me wondering whether she trusted me too much—or simply loved bending the rules.
When I gestured to my bike, however, she froze. "Sofia, I'm a law-abiding citizen," she declared seriously. "Adventures are fun, but stealing someone else's bike is against my rules."
For a moment, I was baffled. Then I realized—she thought I meant stealing! Amused by her creativity, I played along. "Don't worry, Lucy. The owner won't mind."
"At least inform the owner!" she insisted.
"I already have permission," I replied.
Relieved, she climbed onto the backseat. Halfway through our ride, she asked curiously, "So, who owns this bike? I'd love to buy one myself."
I smiled. "Me."
"No, I asked for the owner," she pressed.
"I am the owner," I repeated, turning to watch her reaction.
Her cheeks flushed bright red. "Why didn't you correct me earlier?!" she shouted.
Instead of answering, I burst into laughter. She pouted, making me laugh even harder, until finally she, too, dissolved into laughter. The bike shook violently beneath us, and for a terrifying moment we nearly toppled over. But we steadied, and our journey continued—filled with jokes, laughter, and the easy joy of companionship.