Mixing

An Advent Calendar of Stories

December 15 2014

Mixing

Bec Lewis

Hot Chocolate

 ‘Blue, orange, black, green, green, red,’ Anya answered, full of hope. This one seemed the caring sort; he’d been chatting to her for a good ten minutes without once ogling the prettier girls in the bar. And he was gorgeous. She smiled, waiting for the questions, the laughs, the spark in his eyes that showed he thought her the most interesting person ever.

            But Jamie simply stared at her. He gulped down the rest of his brandy, said, ‘Whatever. Thought you liked me,’ and ambled off, presumably in search of an easier conquest.

            Anya sniffed. Men didn’t care how she saw the world. It was too much trouble for them to work her out. None had passed her test. After her divorce she'd decided to check for compatibility instead of rushing into a new relationship based on attraction, although good looks still mattered, of course. Compatibility didn't necessarily mean a man with the same quirks as her. Just an interest in her quirks would do; she craved the undivided attention of one good man. So many were wrapped up in themselves. Her little test would save heartache and wasted time. It was fool proof.

            ‘Cheer up.’ A kind voice. ‘I’m Dave.’

            Wary smiles were followed by chatting and laughter and then Dave gently touched her arm. She liked it. He wasn’t exactly handsome, and his hair was streaked blond and ginger. Three and two together. Not her usual type. Still, she’d test him. ‘My number’s blue, orange, black, green, green, red.’

            She thought he muttered ‘Finicky mare,’ but his words were swallowed up by raucous laughter nearby. Then he leaned closer and said, ‘Your dress is a lovely shade of…’ He paused, grinning. ‘Seven.’

            She gasped. ‘To me it’s four. You have synaesthesia too?’ Here was Mr Perfect! ‘Let’s compare notes.’

            ‘Love to.’ He checked his watch. ‘Must dash. Call me. Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, custard, brandy, coconut…’

            She cried, ‘I don’t know those. Wait!’ But he’d blended back into the crowd.

 About the Author

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