Go to the bar

You follow the group into the bar, where you spot a familiar tangle of blond curls through the window, laughing at something, surrounded by a loose cluster of other students who all have the slightly shell-shocked look of people who arrived in this city within the last week.

She doesn't notice you right away, mid-story, hands doing most of the talking, and you drift toward the edge of the group rather than announcing yourself, ordering a beer and letting the conversation wash over you until there's a natural gap to fill.

"Mind if I join?"

She glances over, and something in her face brightens immediately, like she's genuinely pleased rather than just polite about it. "Oh my god, hi, yeah, of course. Are you a local or..." she pauses, realizing, laughing at herself, "i am John, from New Zealand, ill start Uni here this semester."

"John. Everyone, John, from New Zealand. John, everyone." She gestures vaguely at the group, who offer a round of friendly, half-interested hellos before mostly returning to their own conversations. "I'm Tiffany, by the way, since we're doing this properly now."

"Good to officially meet you, Tiffany."

"Likewise." She grins, sliding over on the bench to make room, and you settle in beside her, close enough that talking doesn't require raising your voice over the noise. "So what's your deal? You look like someone who's been here longer than five minutes, unlike the rest of us."

"Few weeks. Long enough to know which bus driver to avoid and not much else."

"That's more than I've got. I'm still getting lost walking to the kitchen in my own hostel." She launches into an account of her day that has you laughing more than the story probably deserves, animated and unfiltered in a way that makes the rest of the group start drifting into the background of your attention rather than the center of it.

The evening moves easily after that, drinks arrive, then more drinks, the conversation around you rising and falling in waves as people peel off to the bar or the bathroom or another table entirely, until at some point, without either of you quite orchestrating it, the group has thinned to background noise and it's mostly just: you, Tiffany, and one of the international Students, who has been staring at Tiffany's cleavage the entire night. "So, Tiffany" he says, a bit more loudly then he has to. "If you want to come back to my apartment tonight, we'd better go now, before we are both too drunk to find the way there." She seems offended. "Daniel, what makes you think i want to go to your apartment?" she asks. "Well, you do want someone, otherwise you wouldn't be dressed like that. And you have been smiling at me all evening, and i know how you western girls are. I have seen a movie before." Tiffany seems shocked and outraged. "David, i didn't dress like this for you. I didn't even know you this morning. And even if, you are not entitled to me. I can make my own choices, and honestly, i'd rather go to John's apartment then yours. At least he has looked me in the eyes today at some point, unlike you. Now, kindly, fuck off."

Daniel seems outraged, and humiliated. He leaves the bar. Now it's just you and Tiffany. "Well, that was a bummer." you try to lighten the mood. "That guy has never seen a blond woman outside of porn." Tiffany mutters. "That's a night ruined. Now, please keep me company for a bit John, i need to get those feelings out of my system.

You chat for another half an hour, and get to know each other. Tiffany is starting a business degree, her dad is a business owner, she was a cheerleader in high school, she currently stays in a hostel because she forgot to put her name on the student housing waiting list, and so on. Meanwhile, your knees are nearly touching under the low table, her laughing at something you said with her hand briefly resting on your arm before she seems to notice and doesn't quite move it away.

"Okay," she says, leaning in slightly over her glass, "Confession time. I like you, John. I was serious when i said i'd rather go to your place then to David's. And honestly, i was thinking of hooking up with someone when i got out of bed this morning. But nothing is going to happen between us tonight. I am not in the mood for that anymore. This is not a never. I'd like to see you again, John. "

She holds your gaze a beat longer than the conversation strictly requires, something warm and a little daring in it, the noise of the bar blurring pleasantly at the edges around the two of you.

You find yourself just looking at her for a moment, the curl of her smile, the way the low light catches gold in her hair, the small, unhurried space between you that feels like it's asking a question neither of you has said out loud yet. Trying to decide what, exactly, you want to do about it.

"Well, time to call it a night." you say as you get up.

"But before i forget, can i have your number?"