chap 3) before coffee shops

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He was humming softly, a song Delilah recognized by Guns & Roses, a song her mother and father used to sing together before her family broke apart.
It was Macaroni and cheese Monday, Taco Tuesday, Wacky food Wednesday, and take out every other day of the week.
"I don't even like tacos." Delilah's older brother Derek would say,
"How can you not like tacos??" Her mom would respond, swaying her hips to Elvis Presley and assembling the tacos.
Even after years of complaining that he "didn't even like tacos" , he ate them anyway.
It was small moments and things like these that remind her of what she lost.

Now it was just Delilah and her mom, because her brother chose her dad over her mom.

taco-making, song-singing, hip-swaying
mom.

Derek resulted to drugs, and Delilah resulted to sadness.
and eventually they all got through it.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Luke mumbling something.
"Delilah?"
"Oh, yes?" She asked, looking up at him.
The window was open, and the wind was blowing slightly on them, and he had a sad distant look on his face, he always did, but he looked great.
His hair was being blown around by the wind and his large hand moved up to put it back into place.

He did that a couple times.

"Where do you live?" He asked, everything he said sounded so careless, like he didn't have a problem in the world and for a split second Delilah envied that ability, the ability to seem like you just don't care.
"Just down that road, actually." She responded, probably not sounding as cool and careless as he did.
Every word out of his mouth seemed so easy.
"Do you want coffee?" She noticed the small cafe up ahead.
"What? Sure." She told him, Delilah would give anything to spend even another moment listening to his soothing voice.
"What would you like?"
"I don't like black coffee."
"That's my favorite type of coffee."
"Gross," She told him, wrinkling her nose and making a face.

Careless.

Luke ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his leather jacket. "It's bitter, I'm bitter, it works."

Delilah nodded, and smiled a little.

you don't seem so bitter.

"Let's go," he said, opening the door for her so they could enter the small coffee-bean scented cafe.

"Okay Delilah, pick something."
"Call me Del."
"No."
"Delilah is weird."
"Del is weird."
she rolled her eyes, careless.

"Delilah sounds old and sophisticated and I'm a young lover of cats." she told him, he cracked a smile. a sad smile. his smile always looked so sad.

"People could think your name is Delaeni." "That's fine, I like Delaeni."
"Okay."
"Really?"
"No, Delilah."

Luke picked up a medium iced coffee with cream and sugar, exactly how Delilah liked it, and placed it in front of her.

"You remind me of someone I used to know." He said.
They walked out of the small cafe and into his old sometimes-black sometimes-silver truck.

"Who?"

"Unimportant."

"Alright," She said.

Luke eventually took her home, the sky eventually got darker, they eventually got more sleepy. And every second they spent together was a blessing, it was pure bliss. Delilah moved her old beat-up sneakers to exit the car, and she felt an old used CD fall to her feet.
Chasing Juliet was scribbled across it in black sharpie marker,

She got out of the car, and shut the door, turning around to speak to him quickly.
"Thank you."
"Yeah."
"Are you going home now?"
"No. I'm going places, I'm going to see."
"Alright," She said.

As Delilah walked into into her old blue house filled with sadness, and memories, and disappointment. She couldn't help but think,

I can't give you adventure.

apartment 206 // l.hWhere stories live. Discover now