If anyone asked, he wasn't counting the days. But if he was being frank in one of those embarrassing moments of inner honesty, it was eight. Eight days since that beautiful nameless girl walked in and right back out of his life with the bounce of a curl. And his life was the same as it was before, all studying and work with the occasional night out. But now there almost a kind of ache in him, like he was yearning for some fantasy he had created in those fifty minutes.
Fantasy- exactly. Sam had to keep reminding himself that- it was just a girl, who he would never see again in his life. Or, as it turned out, until day nine.
It was Saturday afternoon, just after the lunch rush. He had returned once more to his new habit, the rag, and was wiping off the infinite BLT crumbs when the bell rang. "Sam, one for the bar," Jenny called.
He was kidding himself if he didn't think his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. There she was, sitting in front of him, giving him the sweetest smile he'd ever seen. After a moment of silent stammering he returned it, sliding a menu to her. After she thanked him he turned away, his head spinning. He wasn't just going to let her walk away, but what was he supposed to say? 'Come here often'?
But by the time he composed himself and turned back to her she was sitting with her hands folded, so he merely asked her, "Ready to order?"
She gave him her order- short stack of chocolate chip pancakes. He delivered it to the kitchen, hoping to get back to her and strike up a conversation, but there was a rush of orders and he was pulled away to the other end of the counter.
After what felt like years the orders died down and someone passed him a plate of pancakes. Finally, this was his chance.
This time Sam met the bright smile she flashed him with one of his own, setting her plate down in front of her. Apparently she was better prepared than he was- before he could manage a word she asked, "This might be weird- and really awkward if you're the wrong person- but are you Sam? Winchester, I think?"
Sam blinked, utterly shocked. That was exactly the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. "Uh, yeah...I'm sorry, do I know you?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth he regretted them. She was going to think he was rude, a complete asshole-
But she just laughed, shaking her wild head of curls. "No, no. But you know Brady- Tyson Brady? He talks about you all the time. He pointed you out the other day but didn't introduce me. I'm Jessica Moore, hopefully he's mentioned me." As she smiled she dipped her head a little bit before raising it and offering her hand.
Sam shook it, his face burning as he pulled up his stool. "Oh! Jess- yeah, he talks about you," he said, glad his laugh sounded more relaxed than he felt, "It's nice to meet you, he's been telling me how we should meet for weeks. I think I almost went to a party you guys were at once, but, y'know- homework."
Jess took a bite of her pancakes, her eyes lighting up. "Wow, these are incredible- oh, yeah! You're pre-law, right? Sounds intense, but then I guess you'll get to be some high profile lawyer." She raised her eyebrows at him, continuing to dig into her pancakes.
Sam chortled, "Yeah, hopefully. You start out pretty slow, but who knows, maybe someday I'll be a big shot, defending the Queen of England's grandson against a hit and run charge or something." She giggled as he grinned at her, his elbows resting on the counter.
It was like some crazy dream after too much iced cream, where somehow things go right for him and the prettiest girl he's ever met is sitting across from him at J.J.'s Diner- and things weren't going badly.
In fact, they were going well. Really well, if he was being optimistic. Or was it too early for optimism?
Either way, Sam didn't care. He just offered her a coffee, on the house, and hoped this was the beginning of something he'd been waiting eighteen years to start.
