That Lonely Black Boi

[13] New Coffee Boi in Town

The sound of their laughter filled the air, and I couldn't shake the feeling that they were judging me, silently critiquing my every move as I made their drinks. My hands started to tremble slightly, but I forced myself to focus, determined to get through this without making any mistakes. But making a mistake was inevitable for me. I brewed the coffee for so long that it spilled everywhere, staining my precious white shirt, splashing on them like glue.

"Hey man, what the hell!" The jock exclaimed, wiping spilled coffee off his face with a handkerchief. Approaching me, he seemed ready to continue his tirade before suddenly recalling something, "Wait a second. . . you're The Stoned Boi!"

What, now?

"What?" I furrowed my brow, pouting as I attempted to snatch the phone from his grasp, but he effortlessly dodged my attempt.

"Ella, Mike, come over here. It's The Stoned Boi," he called out, signalling for his friends to join in mocking me. Ella and Mike eagerly approached, ready to ridicule me.

As expected, the spiteful cheerleader and the assistant jock blocked my view, taking photos and videos of me. Feeling too embarrassed to defend my dignity, I resigned myself to potentially becoming the subject of a school meme the next day — a meme that would probably say: "have a stoned day," perhaps. With Ella's weak grip on her phone, I managed to grab it from her, thankful that it was unlocked. The viral video of me played on her screen, garnering likes and comments, making me internet infamous.

"Give me back my phone," Ella demanded, but I moved out of her reach behind the counter.

Checking the latest comment, I was surprised to see Omar's comment: "LMAO" Gripping the phone tightly, I felt the urge to crush it with my teeth, I bit on my lower lips nearly busting it.

"Hey, let go of the phone," the jock noticed my agitation.

Ella took a step back, remarking, "He's high as a cloud," trembling as if I were a monster.

"Who gets high on a Thursday?" Mike questioned.

"I'm sorry, here," I reluctantly returned her phone. She hesitated before snatching it back, and I rolled my eyes, starting to make them new coffee.

"We don't need your spiked coffee anymore," the jock spat disgustingly, glaring at me like an outcast. "It's a good thing my buddy Matt posted the video in the school's chat group. You're an animal, bruh! You must have been doing drugs in yah mama's womb," he added, further fueling my anger.

Unable to contain myself, I crushed the recyclable coffee cup in my hand and tossed it at his face. "Get the hell out!" I yelled, but unfortunately, Mr. Starbucks overheard and began walking towards us, ready to ruin my already bad day.

"What's going on here?" My senior inquired, with a frown plastered on his face.

A relieved sigh escaped Ella's lips, "thank Jesus you're here, you can't have a druggie behind the counter, he might spike the coffees, who knows?" She shrugged, saying these.

"Is that so?" My senior said, caressing his under-grown beard, "well then-" he added, grabbing the cuppa' coffee I'd made, "we are sorry for the inconveniences." He said, emptying the cup on her head.

Talk about a legend.

"What. The! Absolute fuck!" She squealed, trying to catch her breath. I couldn't contain my laughter as it splattered out instantly. "How dare you, I'm never coming here, I'm boycotting y'all!" She ranted, wiping her stupid blonde hair.

"Y'know what Ella, you can fuck off, get the fuck out." The way he spoke to the cheerleader, I noticed the whole incident wasn't about me, it was personal — perhaps they dated in the past - a toxic ex was something I'd never pray for.