Coffee Girl {Contest Entry}

Coffee Girl

I stood in the living room of my house, stationed in front of the television and searching desperately for the remote which was bound to be hiding somewhere on top of the cabinet. My seven year-old daughter Rosemary was seated at my feet, waiting for me to turn a movie on for her. I smiled down at her briefly before resuming my search. My eye caught the corner of something silver and, assuming it was the remote, I picked it up. It turned out to not be the remote at all, but a silver picture frame. In it was a picture of my husband and I on our first date. I thought about that day and then found my mind wandering to the day we met. I chuckled to myself as I recalled that day. It wasn't quite the ordinary way you would expect a future couple to meet.

I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and a chin rest on my shoulder. "What are you thinking about, love?" he asked gently.

"Just the day we met," I replied, looking over to him and locking my emerald eyes with his hazelnut brown ones.

"I think that's a day neither of us will be able to forget," he replied, chuckling. I smiled softly, thinking back to that day fifteen years before once again.

I sat in my normal seat at Creene's Coffee and Cafe, which was my absolute favorite coffee shop in the area. I sipped my mocha latte while reading the novel that was clutched in my hands, which happened to be "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" by Stephen Chbosky. I chuckled at certain things, enduring the sweet torture I was putting myself through. I channeled all of my self control in order to not burst into a hysterical fit of laughter or crying. I may have been an extremely socially awkward human being, but even I wasn't fond of making a fool of myself in the middle of a coffee shop. While reading page 77 and trying not to spontaneously combust from the emotional rollercoaster I was experiencing, I was disturbed in a rather terrible manner.

Scalding hot coffee splashed all over me, dousing my book as well. I released the novel, hopping up in a panicked response, which caused my own coffee to spill. The puddle of caffeinated beverages only grew, claiming the life of the innocent work of literature.

"I-I'm so sorry...I ju-just tr-tripped." I looked up to find the source of the voice, my emerald eyes finding a pair of hazelnut brown ones. I was looking up at a guy who was about twenty. I use the term 'guy' because he wasn't a boy anymore and I don't think he was quite a man yet. At least he didn't appear to be in my judgement. Dark brown curls topped his head, perfectly framing his pale features. His soft pink lips formed a nervous smile, his eyes anxious. I couldn't deny the fact that this guy was breathtakingly gorgeous, but I was more concerned with the coffee puddle that was ever-present.

"It's okay. I don't cry over spilled coffee," I said, laughing my jittery laugh. He seemed to grow nervous, misinterpreting my laughter as bitter. I shook my head, "It's seriously fine. I mean, it was accidental anyway. You tripped over my bag," I continued, motioning to the baby blue backpack which had been a little too far out in the aisle.

"Yeah, I guess that's true. But still, your book," he replied, looking over at the heap of papery pulp that was once Chbosky's great torture device. I sighed, following his gaze.

"I guess I'll just have to replace it. Thankfully it's not a library book," I said, my disappointed stare focused on it. The guy grabbed napkins, cleaning up the table. I grabbed a few, dabbing at my clothes. I took of my purple flannel, revealing just my grey tank top, which was fortunately mostly dry. As I turned back, I saw the table was mainly clean. The guy was now dabbing at my novel, attempting to revive it, but just making it worse. I snatched the book from his hands, tossing it in the trash. The guy looked at me with hurt eyes.

"The book was too young to die," he said, glaring at the trash can. I laughed, shaking my head. The guy was pretty entertaining. I watched him as he reached for his pocket, pulling something made of brown leather out. That something was his wallet and he started taking money out, handing it to me. "To replace your book. And your coffee."

"Oh, no," I said, handing him his money back, "I can't accept that."

"Please. I ruined your book, it's the least I can do," he said, trying to hand me the money again. I refused still. "Well, at least let me give you a ride home then."

Maybe it was the fact that it was late September, so the weather was turning chilly. Maybe it the fact that I didn't feel like walking. Maybe it was the fact that my clothes were soaked through. Or maybe it was just the fact that I wanted to spend a bit more time with this handsome stranger, but something made me say yes.

As we walked to his car, he guarded me from the rain with his umbrella. "I never got your name," he said.

"Aisley," I said quietly.

"That's beautiful."

"Thanks. And yours?"

"Flynn."

We pulled up in front of my house and he let me out. Little did I know, that was the start of our life.
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Hello there, internet humans. My name is Faith. I'm the author of this here story. I know it's short and doesn't have much of a story line, but it's only for a contest on Wattpad Romance. I want to expand on it as a regular story. That's separate on my profile. So go check that out. :)