He writes in cursive

OH NO! 

 This is karma, definitely karma for being so uncool and super geeky, geeky enough to walk around with an Eng.lit in my bag right next to a book on chicken facts instead of a phone. What to do, what to do. 

I bit my lips, squeezed my palm, swung on my feet, blew raspberries. What to do, what to do. 

Lie! 

" I… uhm my phone's got issues. I… it's unavailable at the moment" His face fell, as impossible as that is and SHOULD be, it did. he shrugged. 

" We could always run into each other again or…" His eyes lit up " Why don't you give me your number" My eyes widened in excitement. Smart! Why didn't you think of that Daisy? Yeah that's right. You've got a big F in boy studies and crush affairs!

" Sure. 555…" I paused and gasped, brain blank. My number! I don't know my number!! I never did cause I wasn't used to the US number system. Who am I kidding! I don't even know my British number cause no one ever asks me for it. I've never really been a number-knower cause I suck at cramming numbers. 

Karma! 

He looked at me " What's wrong?" 

" Uh… 555…555…" I slammed my mouth shut, pitching my thumb against my right pinky " I can't remember it?" He stared at me a while longer, holding the laughter in. Oh I'm such an idiot " I've never really been a number-knower though." I said, jumping into my defense. Or basically being stupid. " My talent for forgetting stuff is unparelled you know. I once introduced my neighbor as the 'nice person from the house next door' for an entire year. Then I called her cat ' the cat that lives next door for another two" I shrugged, laughing along with him " it really sucks I know. Bet its karma" I looked down at my bag " Or you could write it here. In my Eng lit textbook" 

" Sure" he said, eyes twinkling brightly. I beamed at him, ruffling through my bag frantically for a pen. I found a pen, one I'd masticated in a fashion and textiles electives class I was forced to take last semester. I stared at it a while longer, doubtful cause apart from the fact that it had my teeth jagged all over it, I'd tapped little stickers of vintage cars and my favorite cartoon characters. Yikes! 

" Are you thinking about giving me your pen too?" He asked, grinning " Or is that candy?" Smile Daisy! Don't look creeped out. 

 I pasted the fakest smile ever and held it out to him, eyes closed. Time to dispose all my tattooed pens! 

 He ran his eyes through it ( NO!) and scribbled his phone number across the back page, smiling. 

Yeah. He knows I'm a total klutz now. A weird one who has pictures of cars and cartoon characters on her pens. 

" There" he said, running my pen delicately through his soft slender fingers. I held back on my fist to hold back the urge to reach out and grab it off his hand. His eyes twinkled. 

" You're into vintage cars?" 

" What?" 

" Vintage cars" He held out the pen in my face " You're into them?" 

" Yeah" I gasped, brimming with excitement " How on earth did you know what those are? No one ever gets them" 

" Well I do. Cars are amazing" 

" Yeah!" I half yelled, eyes bulging " Yeah they're amazing. Hey did you know that the Bugatti was named after the builder, Bugatti. And he's French ( this is the moment where I babble my life away. Believe me you DON'T want to know how that looks. Or sound. I'm sure Justin's contemplating speedy escape from the mad loudmouth girl) And the first model was initially a race car built in the nineties, 1945 precisely. It's got like the fastest horsepower ever. At least till coinissan absolute came along in 2020" Ok this is the part where you SHUT UP daisy and mentally chop your mouth off. 

 Did I listen? You bet NOT. 

" And then there's the Mclaren, the coolest car ever. Its first model was kinda Duffy and British but he's doing his people proud" I slammed my fist on my head, slamming my eyes close in shame when I heard him laugh softly. What a nice sound. 

" You seem to know a lot about cars. And you said he's doing his people proud? You're not from around here?" 

" I'm British. Nobody misses that cause I've got the queen's accent hands down pat." I muttered, wringing my fingers " Too bad I had to come right from London and then have a Scot mom" 

" Too bad? I love your accent" He said, giving me this strangely curved lopsided grin that made his dimples pop out. 

 OMG he has dimples! I'm a total sucker for guys with dimples and also, dimples that make them EXTREMELY cute. 

I think my heart just skipped. 

" It's classy. Really classy" 

" Thanks. I like your accent too" 

He chuckled " Americans don't really have accents. We just… talk" 

" Oh" I said, nodding. I traced the pattern etched across the marble floors with intense concentration. Look up Daisy! Look up!!

Did I? You should know by now. 

It was just TOO awkward. Plus, HIS face was literally making mine burn. 

Say something then Daisy. You're good at that… Ok NOT when you're in the face of American's hottest heart throb/supermodel! You'll just ruin everything with your geeky car facts. 

An awkward silence filled the room. I swung on my feet softly and he threw his eyes back. 

" So I guess I'll" we began together, laughing. 

" So, see you…" He began and I cut in laughing shakily. 

" Call you" 

" Yeah. Call you soon?" 

I shrugged " Yeah sure" I swung my fist right " Anytime" Ok, why did I do AND say that? He smiled and looked around nervously. 

" So, I have to go" 

" Yeah you sure do" I said, my hands twitching. Don't do it Daisy. DON'T do it! 

I held out my hand, slamming one eye shut. Yeah, you just did it. Way to go, dorka. " See you soon?" I muttered, hating myself and peeking at him from one eye like a space alien. Oh he definitely hates me now. Definitely. 

He laughed and took my hand " Yeah sure. See you soon" He said, backing out. He waved and I waved, grinning like a total boozoo when he left. 

OMG he grinned at me. Then laughed with me or probably AT me but who's counting?

 Then he gave me his number. Justin Hayes ACTUALLY got his amazing contact information on my phone… Ok if that isn't the worst description I've EVER said. 

I drew my textbook to my chest, running my hand through every number. 

555-650- Justin Hayes

He even writes in cursive! As if he couldn't get even more amazing he just did. 

Justin Hayes. Now that's a name I can see scribbled across the pages of many journals in the next two days.