Coffeehouse Angel by Suzanne Selfors Page A

the merriment. The little kids always came in for hot chocolate, extra excited if it had snowed. Anna's was the most popular stop for hot chocolate.
    Until Java Heaven.
    "I'll tell you what the problem is." Elizabeth unwrapped a cupcake. "The problem is that these stupid Nordby boys are shallow. They aren't ready to think outside the box, you know? If they'd just get their heads out of their butts once in a while they'd realize that I'm a great catch."
    "You are."
    "So why doesn't Face notice me?"
    "Because you're sitting in the corner on the floor."
    She sighed. "What's the matter with me? Why can't I just go up to him and talk? Why do I get so nervous?"
    "I don't know." I kind of knew. Back in the seventh grade I'd been in love with a guy named Sean. I cut his photo out of our yearbook and tucked it into my jewelry box. It was still in there. But, like Elizabeth, I never did anything about it, just wasted way too much time longing. He moved away at the end of that school year, never knowing how I felt. That image popped into my head again--me, standing beneath the Solstice tree, holding hands with a guy. He was tall and handsome, but it wasn't Sean. He looked like...Malcolm.
    "My feet start to sweat every time I think about talking to him," Elizabeth said. "Don't you think that's weird? Maybe I should go see a doctor."
    "I wouldn't worry about it." I ate my soup, then unfolded the checklist that I had crammed into my pocket. "Mr. Prince gave me this."
    "He gave everybody one."
    "Yeah, but do you notice anything about mine?"
    She shrugged, then licked frosting off her finger.
    "Mine's full of blank spaces. There's nothing on it. You've got your art classes and your art awards. You want to go to the Rhode Island School of Design. You want to open a gallery in New York. What do I want to do?"
    "Face is getting some ketchup." Elizabeth craned her neck to watch. She couldn't relate to my situation. Talent was wired into her. She exhaled it. It oozed out her pores. She probably even farted it. Had I been born without the talent gene? Sitting at the edge of the chattering crowd I felt like a freak with my naked checklist. Surely there were others like me, born without an inkling of direction. The wanderers, the amblers, the dabblers, united by our purposeless mantra-- I have no idea what to do with my life.
    I was a big blank space.
    "What if I end up like Irmgaard?"
    "Are you going to take a vow of silence?"
    "No, I mean she's got to be forty. And she's making soup and living alone. That's sad.
    Don't you think that's sad?"
    Elizabeth unwrapped a sandwich. "Maybe she likes to make soup and live alone."
    "The point is, if I don't start doing something with my life, then I'm not going to get anywhere." I waved the checklist. "If I don't put some amazing things on this list, no college is going to accept me."
    "Just make a bunch of stuff up. I mean, who will know?" Elizabeth ripped the checklist from my hand and set it on her knees. "Activities. Activities." She pulled a pen from her purse. "What is that stupid game those old guys are always playing?"
    "Hnefatafl."
    "How do you spell that?"
    I spelled it and she wrote: Captain of the Hnefatafl Club, a society dedicated to the preservation of Viking culture. "Get one of the old guys to write you a letter of recommendation." She scanned the page. "Look, there's a space for languages." She wrote: Viking.
    "I don't speak Viking."
    "You know some words, don't you?"
    "I know 'Hnefatafl.' "
    "Well, there you go. That's more than most people know." She swept sandwich crumbs off the list. "Oh look, here's a space for volunteering. You're always helping those old guys."
    "The Boys?"
    "Yeah. Don't you make them sandwiches?"
    "So?"
    She wrote: Eldercare Volunteer, helping senior citizens with daily activities.
    "You're totally exaggerating."
    "Everyone exaggerates. You think I'm going to tell an admissions committee that I won first place in an art contest that only two other people entered? I'm