❝I don't wanna be left behind.
Distance was a friend of mine.
Catching breath in a web of lies.❞
— Catch My Breath, Kelly Clarkson
___
ONE
___
Coffee.
That's what he needed. He just needed a cup of coffee to stay up for this stupid Intro to History class. He let his feet take him to the closest coffee shop around. Normally, he didn't mind history; it's not great, but it's the basis for most literature, so it's not too bad either. This teacher, though, would make any class a snooze fest. His face looked like he fell asleep listening to himself. The most exciting thing that ever happened in this class was when Mr. Drooly Pants, sat on the front row, started sleep talking about doughnuts, chipotle and his pet cat, Doodles.
"Cappuccino with espresso, 2 shots," he said, barely making any eye contact as he rummaged through his pockets for 4 dollars.
"That would be 3-"
Luke handed the crumpled bills to the one taking his order before he could finish and moved over to wait for his coffee. Rude, huh? Welcome to Lukedom, where playing nice was a mere pawn to get what you want. I wish I could say he was bad looking or stupid, but he wasn't, as you might have already guessed. This prick got away with a lot because he knew when he had to put on the good boy act and when to revert to not giving a damn. Somebody hand this boy an Oscar.
"Luke."
Luke walked over the counter, slightly surprised by the swift service. He was especially rude today, and he got his coffee faster? Way to go universe, you really taught him a life lesson here. RUDE IT UP!
As he was about to reach for the cup, some girl grabbed the cup first. In his surprise, words died in his mouth, and he just stared in shock at the cup that was supposed to be his
or so he thought.
"From Luke," another barista called. What the fuck?
"Thanks," a voice beside him muttered.
He didn't even bother looking at who said that. He was too busy looking at his cup,
the cup that left the counter,
the cup that moved through the crowds of people,
the cup by the now open door,
the cup that was headed out the street,
the cup that was slowly grew smaller,
the cup with his name on it.
"Wait, Luke ah..." He mumbled, loudly enough to solicit a response, an unlikely one.
"Yeah?"
"Huh?"
"Did you call me buddy?" The blonde barista by the cash register, who he recognized as the one who took his coffee order earlier, responded while the other barista standing in front of him, who was handing out coffees, dropped what he was doing and gave him a strange look.
"What," was all our protagonist could muster because he was obviously as confused as we are.
"You called me. I'm Luke."
YOU ARE READING
In Her Words
General Fiction"When he first heard her, he knew. She was his bestseller." Before there were great stories, there were only words. Luke's were smart and eloquent but hollow. It was nothing like Emma's story, bleak and awkward, but honest to a fault. This is a comi...
