"Isabel?" Liz asked walking up to the table and pulling Isabel from her train of thought. "Hi, what are you doing here?"

"Oh," Isabel said looking up at Liz in surprise. "I'm um, meeting someone."

"You are?" Liz asked with a smile and taking a seat in the booth. "Whose the lucky guy?"

"Alex."

"Alex Manes?" she asked. "That red headed guy in bio?"

"No, no. Not him. Alex Whitman."

"Whitman," Liz repeated silently bowing her head in sadness. "You should be careful with him Isabel. He could hurt you."

"Oh no, it's nothing like that," Isabel replied. "We're just going to work on this history paper. Like he could never be interested in me."

"Yeah, well, still. You should be, you know, cautious."

"Guess I'll see," Isabel said suddenly tensing up. "Here he comes."

***

Alex could only stare at the café from across the street. He was supposed to be taking his first step to changing his life around. He was supposed to be in the café with Isabel working on that history thing, but his feet weren't moving. They were firmly planted on the sidewalk.

'It'll be okay,' Alex thought to himself. She is not like them, she's not going to laugh at your answers to those questions, she is not going to ask why you would ever pick something like that when what she thought was better. She wasn't like that…she was sweet.

'Get on with it Whitman,' he thought.

He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair and stepped off of the sidewalk.

***

He entered the café smirking as the familiar chimes echoed throughout the place, and saw her sitting in a booth in the corner. 'Does she has some weird thing involving corners?' he thought, as he walked over to her. Liz was sitting in the booth with her, and a twinge of guilt ran down his spine. That always happened when he saw her, or Maria.

"Liz," he said not quite looking at her, he couldn't bring himself too. "Hi."

"Alex," she said flatly. "I'll see you later Isabel."

Alex followed her feet as she walked back into the kitchen. This didn't go unnoticed by Isabel, and she wondered what the deal was. Alex looked over to Isabel, instantly smiling as he took a seat in the booth.

"So," he said. "Are you hungry? Should we eat something?"

"I'm not hungry," Isabel replied. "But you should get something if you want."

"Nah, not really hungry either. Shall we?" he said pointing and the questions.

"Sure," Isabel said. "Okay question one, What is your middle name?"

"Charles," he replied. "Yours?"

"Anna."

"Isabel Anna," Alex said. "That's a very pretty name."

"Thanks," she said almost blushing and suddenly finding her shoes very interesting.

"Question two," Alex said. "Favorite book?"

"Catcher in the Rye," Isabel said.

"Really? That's my favorite too," Alex said looking at her, his eyes lighting up.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he said, "Something about it just spoke to me. Seeing that kid wander around not knowing whom he was, but still trying to find out."

"I felt the same way," Isabel confessed. "But don't you know who you are?"

"Not really," Alex said. "I know what I appear to be, but that's not who I am."

"Then who are you?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "I can act like a million different people, but not myself."

His eyes started to wander the café, this was definitely more than a little weird. He had never spoken more than ten words to Isabel in his life, and now he just practically confessed his unfulfillment with his own life. But she didn't say anything, just looked at him with those soft brown eyes. He thought he could lose himself in those eyes.

"So um, question three," he said breaking the silence. "Favorite thing to do. Well I like to…"

"What?" she asked. "What do you like to do?"

"Write poems," he mumbled.

"Nothing wrong with that Alex," she said. "Why would you hide something like that?"

"You think those people I hang out with really care what goes inside here?" he said tapping on his forehead.

"Does it really matter what they think?" Isabel asked, then shyly stared at the sugar dispenser surprised at her boldness.

"I guess not," he said. "What about you? What is your favorite thing?"

"To do? Oh that's easy. I like to go stargazing."

"Stargazing?"

"Um yeah…"

'Stupid girl' she thought. 'telling him you like to do such a nerdy thing.'

"That sounds like fun," was all he said, and he smiled at her.

She grinned her tiny shy little grin back at him. There was this strange electric current flowing through the air between them at that moment. They had both just confessed something deeply personal about each other with relative ease. It could have meant anything, but the point was, it definitely meant something. They both questioned each other throughout the afternoon, each learning something new, each finding out they had more and more in common. They both loved Mexican food, they both loved cheesy b-movies. Evil Dead was king. They liked the same music, the same TV shows, almost the same everything. In the midst of the conversation, Isabel slowly began to stop casting her eyes downward in bashful manner, she started to sit up straight and dared to look him in the eye. Alex felt himself relax more, he didn't hold back exactly what he meant to say. He said it and she listened. She didn't laugh, didn't judge, just listened. They hit the last question, and both could see a little disappointment in each other's eyes. Isabel, because soon she was going to stop feeling like a princess, and Alex because was going to stop feeling like himself.

'But no,' he thought. 'It didn't have to be that way.' He found himself liking this Isabel Evans. She didn't treat him like a king, or a thing merely meant to be gawked at or envied. She talked to him, really talked. She listened too. It was everything that was missing in his life. It was everything he had been wishing for. Now way he was going to let it end as soon as this paper was done. He had just begun to feel like himself, and he liked that feeling.

"How often do you go stargazing?" he asked.

"Every other night just about," she answered. "Why?"

"Would you care if I went with you next time?"

Isabel sat there frozen, the question refused to comply in her brain. Did he just say he wanted to go with you?

"Oh well, if you like to do it alone I understand." He said.

"No!" she shouted. "I mean… it would be okay if you really wanted to…" She couldn't help it. Her eyes were cast toward her shoes yet again as she nervously played with her fingers awaiting his response.

"I'd love to," he said. "When will you go again?"

"Tomorrow I usually go," she said. "We could meet here and…"

"How about I pick you up?" he offered

"Um…sure," she glanced slowly back up at him. Eyes tracing every inch, memory latching onto each second. If this was some kind of dream she never wanted to wake up. This memory she would always cherish, even if there was heartbreak in the end, she could always have this. Alex Whitman offering to come pick her up and do the one thing in the world she loved to do the most.

"Tomorrow then," he said. Taking one last look at her and smiling before grabbing his bag and heading out the door.