Disclaimer: I own nothing but a crazed mind so please don't sue me. {pretty please}
Summary: Tara receives a text.
Rating: Totally PG
Notes: "Text", <
The lecture seemed to drain every bit of energy she had left, she almost couldn’t keep her eyes open. It wasn’t that she didn’t like school, or the subject at hand for that matter, but the teacher was just so boring.
Tara was distracted by a vibration in her pocket. It was a welcome break from the bleak wall she had been staring at for the last twenty minutes.
She fished the phone from her jeans and furrowed her brow , not recognizing the number that flashed with the text icon.
“I’m bored to death, Mr. Anderson is worse than a shot of Valium. What about you?”
The blonde was further bemused, from what she had understood whoever had texted her was in the same room with her, but she couldn’t fathom who it could be.
“Me too, which is why I’m replying, otherwise I’d just have ignored you. Who are you?”
It wasn’t long before an answer arrived.
“I’m sitting a few rows behind you, a bit to the left.”
Tara resisted the incredible urge to turn, instead typing back to the stranger.
Somewhere back a phone merrily displayed her text.
“That still doesn’t answer my question. How’d you get this number?”
Slender fingers hit the keyboard.
“I asked around.”
Willow lifted her gaze from the screen to look at the other girl, her fingers twitching nervously. Much as she wanted to play the cool sophisticated mysterious stranger she couldn’t help but panic.
Tara wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, creeped out or flattered at that, but while she contemplated the choice another message came through.
“I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have, but I really wanted to meet you but I was scared and I would have spazzed out and made a fool of myself. Hence the phone-to-phone thing. I’m sorry.”
The blonde smirked at the flow of words as she imagined a panicked babble. She decided to answer.
“S’ok, I get the social-inept thing, I’m kinda one too. And you didn’t make a fool out of yourself. Well, maybe a bit.”
Willow exhaled in relief, she hadn’t scared the pretty blonde off. She had seen her around and she’d been captured, however she had never managed to sum up the courage to talk to her.
“Well, actually…”
Tara looked at her phone’s display, waiting for the rest of the text to come through. When it didn’t she sent an hesitant and confused reply.
“Actually…?”
Willow sighed.
“Do you, by any chance, remember an unpleasant happening that involves spilled coffee?”
The blonde wandered off in her thoughts, recalling a similar fact. Still, the thing she remembered most was the involvement of a gorgeous redhead, that had stood still as if struck by lightning then sprouted off an avalanche of words before bolting. Her eyes widened.
“That was you?!”
A few seconds later came the meek reply.
“Er…yes?”
And then another.
“I’m sorry for that too, you know. I never even repaid that coffee.”
Tara mulled over the text for a while. Was that an invitation? And, more importantly, was that an invitation that she wanted to take? The answer came to her as a warmth that spread through her chest and a flutter in her belly.
“Wanna do so now?”
She held her breath, waiting for the reply, but it didn’t come. She slumped in her seat, crestfallen, when she noticed that the other students were packing away their things. Quickly she got up and turned, her eyes searching for the redhead in the crowd.
Disappointedly, Tara gathered her notebook and bag, and resignedly got out of the class.
She had her gaze cast to the ground when a nudge on her shoulder caught her attention. In front of her the redhead was holding two steaming mochas, her expression halfway between sheepish and hopeful.
<
Tara beamed at the other girl and accepted one of the cups. She cradled it in a hand extending the other.
<
With a dazzling smile Willow grasped the offered hand.
<
. Thanks! 
