I’m no good with strangers

headphones buried in her ears and her textbook spread out in front of her, she sipped her coffee and scanned the pages of US History, scribbling barely legible notes on post-its littering the pages of useless information

the café was full, without a single empty table. I was reluctant to venture back out into the cold with my coffee and mustered up the courage to walk over to the girl with hunched shoulders and too much homework

she glanced up and then around. pulling out one earbud she gestured for me to sit, a half forced smile stretching her lips in an attempt to reassure me.

"thanks," I said softly, and settled down in the seat across from her.

the sleeves of her too-big hoodie were scrunched up around her elbows and her glasses kept sliding down her nose as she grumbled over the democratic revolution.

"finals week?" I guessed, and she nodded

twisting her fingers together she looked up at me again and introduced herself, awkward as she tilted her head, concentrating on me.

suddenly struck my the weight of her gaze I'm compelled to tell her more than I've ever wished to tell a stranger... but I simply started with my name.

desperate for an escape from the 1800s, she engaged in conversation

tip toeing, I tried to reassure her she's not bothering me but she's anxious

I could see the bags beneath her eyes and when I subconsciously glanced down at her arm, she pulled down her sleeves

"I'll let you get back to work" I said

recognizing my coffee was gone and the wind had slowed

she nodded, "it was nice to meet you, I'll see you around." and as I stood I watched her reimmerse herself in solitude

she's easy to get close to

but I doubt she would ever let herself get close to you