The Eternal Intern (Contemporary Romantic Comedy) by Roman Koidl Page B

didn’t even know what they wanted to do exactly. Others knew but the competition was so fierce that it was hard to break into the work force. I was only at the beginning of my studies and my work life seemed to be flowing. So why worry? Soon I would find out that I should have been worrying.
    As I was wandering through the library to collect all the books I’d need for the term paper , my eyes crossed the sight of a young blond girl. She was doing the same as me. It was a brief moment, but I had a feeling I knew her.
    “Hey, don’t I know you? ” she asked as she was standing beside me reaching for a book.
    “I’m not sure, but I am asking myself the same question ,” I replied smiling.
    “No, Patrick? ” her face light up.
    “Sarah? ” I recognised her now.
    “You study law here? ” she asked in disbelief.
    “Yes, first semester. You?” I countered.
    “Third,” she whispered.
    “Why don’t we grab a coffee? The people are looking angry at us ,” she said.
    “Sure, just let me bring these books to my table ,” I replied.
     
    “ Two Latte Macchiatos, please,” I told the barista as we were standing in line at the little coffee shop next to the library.
    “How long has it been? ” she asked me.
    “Uhm, gosh? It was elementary school. At least 15 years ,” I answered.
    She smiled. “You still look as handsome as ever. You’ve hardly changed,” she complimented me.
    I blushed slightly. I didn´t get compliments like that too often.
    “Thanks. You look great as well ,” I replied politely.
    “So, what have you been up to since? ” I asked.
    “Well, where do I start? I was in prison for three years and then I started to study law to know my rights ,” she said bluntly.
    My mouth stood open , “Oh, may I ask why you were in prison?“
    “I chopped my ex’s penis off as he was sleeping ,” she replied reaching for her coffee that the barista was placing on the counter.
    I felt so uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to handle the situation.
    “You’re pale. Everything alright Pat?” she tapped my shoulder.
    “Yes sure ,” I replied automatically looking around the room. She broke out into laughter.
    “You really thought I was in prison for disfiguring my ex? ” her smile was reaching from the one side of her face to the other.
    “Well, I’m not sure ,” I answered diplomatically.
    “Patrick, I was teasing you. You should have seen your face!” she laughed. “Let’s sit over there at the window,” she pointed at an empty table. 
    “God, I feel so dumb right now ,” I said as I pulled a chair from the table next to hers, “You haven´t lost your sense of humour,” I told her, feeling a relief going through my spin.
    “I remember you setting a bundle of newspaper on fire and placing it in front of Mrs. Smith’s house door,” I told her, starting to laugh about it.
    She smiled “Yes. I had dog shit wrapped inside ,” she remembered.
    We both bursted out laughing.
    “Yeah, and then you knocked at her door and hid around the corner,” I continued the story.
    “And then… ,” her giggles interrupted me.
    “ …she came out and stepped on the burning paper with her house shoes on,” she finished the story breaking out into laughter again.
    “Jesus, that was so mean, but funny,” she said.
    She took a deep breath to collect herself.
    “So, Patrick, tell me, how are you doing?”
    “I just returned from South Africa. I worked at a radio station down there ,” starting to show off.
    “South Africa? Nice. I was in Kenya and loved it,” she counter-impressed me.
    “Wow, when?” I asked.
    “A few years ago .”
    She glanced at her watch.
    “I better get back to work. Let’s exchange numbers so we can keep in touch,” she suggested taking the last sip out of her glass.
    “That would be great ,” I replied getting my mobile out.
    “Where are you sitting? ” she asked as she was ringing my phone so I could have her number.
    “On the second floor on the side