#recycle bin

Once again, he looked at his hands. Ever since the moment he discovered this strange power, he had become obsessed, no, addicted. He found almost any excuse to lightly touch others’ hands. While getting his coffee in the morning, while at the store, at the office— anywhere. It became sort of a game. He would watch the person, try to guess at their emotion, and then confirm it. It was amazing that he was correct so many times.

Now he sat at a small coffee shop, looking at a young barista with long brown hair and soft eyes. He watched her as she prepared his drink and then as she walked over to him. She’s feeling tired, probably hoping to go home to her family, he thought to himself as she placed the cup on the table. He smoothly reached for the cup just before her hand left the mug and touched the tips of her fingers in a now practiced move. She turned to leave not noticing what happened and he was washed over by a soft feeling… something like happiness, but… sad along the edges. He stared at his cup, as the feeling slowly faded. He blinked a couple times and then looked up at the girl, who was now cleaning a table. She did not look particularly happy, or sad. He frowned. Maybe… his mind worked and worked, trying to solve the puzzle—not having ever truly felt emotions himself, it was hard sometimes to understand when they were mixed.

He shook his head and looked down at his hands. Maybe this strange ability was starting to fade, only meant to work for a few days? Ryan did not want to go back, not now that he knew how this felt. He liked feeling, even if it was only for a few seconds. It was a hunger he never knew he had and now was unwilling to let go of. He got up from his seat, picked up his cup, and walked over to the counter where the girl was now standing by the register. She smiled politely as he approached and he flashed yet another practiced smile. 

“Excuse me, my coffee was a bit cold,” he said softly as he placed the cup on the counter.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said as she picked up the cup, “I’ll make you another one,” then she turned around. 

Ryan watched as she once again prepared his drink, trying to think harder this time. She smiled at me, he thought, so maybe she is not tired, but happy. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize she was back.

“Okay, here it is.” She smiled again. Ryan could never understand how people gave away smiles so easily and so often. He had to practice, observe, and guess at the right moment, while others seemed to do it without so much as a thought.

He reached out for the mug just as she reached out to place a napkin next to it. Their hands touched and Ryan felt something… hot. Frustrated, he thought to himself, she must be frustrated with me because I let my drink get cold. But when he looked up, she was smiling, light pink dusting her cheeks, her eyes reduced to small lines.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” she said, her smile faltering slightly as she pulled her hand back.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” he answered, still lost in his thoughts.

This girl was strange. Her emotions did not align with her expressions. Or perhaps he was the one that was strange. Well of course he was strange but… he shook his head. This is pointless, he thought. He drank his coffee and then left the shop, waving at the girl on his way out.

He looked down at his hands; he had been doing this a lot lately.

Ryan found himself at the cafe almost every day after that. Every time he challenged himself, and every time he failed. For some reason he could never figure the girl out. She always seemed to be friendly on the outside but frustrated and sad on the inside. Then it hit him one day, as his fingers touched the tips of hers. She smiled warmly at him, a regular customer, and yet the feeling that washed over him was frustration- as usual- but this time it had softer edges, and he found himself with an almost unnoticeable smile on his lips. He blinked and looked at the girl’s back as she turned before looking down at his hands again.

He could not believe it. He would have laughed- this seemed like something to laugh about- but it would have been too strange in the quiet of the shop. But suddenly, a frown crept up on his face. Why was this different from the dozens of hands he had touched before? He turned to the girl again. Was it just her? He thought, for a second, maybe he would get up and ask her something, maybe even slide his hand towards hers, just a tiny bit.

He wanted to challenge himself once more.