Please Don't Be So Shy

Window Seat

I stare at the incredibly slow clock on the wall, counting down the seconds until the final bell. This entire day has taken centuries to roll around, I swear.

Kirstie isn't talking to me, which I personally think is super immature. I barely have any classes with Scott, only choir and History; Kirstie usually saves me during the classes in between. That's not the case today.

I'm currently receiving the silent treatment from said brunette, who's sulking next to me. I'm really glad she's acting like a true senior in high school today.

My eyes circle the clock with the red second hand one last time. The ringing of the bell is echoed by the relieved shuffling of the students rushing out the door, urgent to get back to their oh-so-important social lives.

I mentally scoff at Kirstie when she bolts out of the room, avoiding my gaze. I've been having trouble keeping my attitude at bay, but I'm trying to be the bigger person for once. I mouth profanities as I gather my things, expelling my anger as well as I can before coming in contact with more innocent people.

Deep breaths, Mitch. She'll get over it... Whatever "it" is.

I hold my books close to my chest, eyes downcast. I'm the perfect person not to talk to, I swear if anyone talks to me... I bump into someone.

"Scott," he smiles at me. "How the Hell did you get all the way down here so fast? Your last class is upstairs."

"I knew you were in a bad mood, so I got out early."

"What teacher would let you out?"

"I said I had to go to the bathroom."

"Like they would let you go with all of your books."

"I closed the door before they could ask." he shrugs, his features accented with a slight tinge of worry at my mood. "Like I said, I knew you were upset today, and I just wanted to help..."

My anger drips away at his caring face. I drop my books on the ground, not even acknowledging the bustling students around us, to hug him with all I have.

"Wait, stop..." he squeaks, nudging me off. I look up at him, confused, until I notice the books wedged between us. "I can't hug you back."

"Sorry," I laugh, letting go of his torso and pecking him once on the lips.

"So, are you doing anything today? You know, like, after school?"

"No..." I say, squatting down to collect my fallen items. "Why?"

"You wanna go out for coffee or something? A little date to cheer you up?" His face is adorable, all pinky and blushing.

"Of course!" I stand, beaming up at the gorgeous man. "Where you gonna take me, Boyfriend?" I tease him.

"You know where..." he says, giving me a look.

"The 'Bucks!!" I yell excitedly, turning to skip down the relatively empty hallway to my locker, a laughing Scott jogging in my wake.

~

"Pretty woman, walking down the street, pretty womannn!" Scott sings softly from behind me, tickling my sides.

"Stop it!" I shriek. He pouts out his lip and I hide my giggles, faking anger.

We had parked both of our cars a few blocks away from the local Starbucks, just to walk together for a bit. Scott has taken this time to tease me relentlessly. 

I roll my eyes when he continues to sing, "The kind I'd like to me-" He chokes up, tripping and stumbling on the pavement. I grab his arm as he regains his balance, laughing.

"What did you even trip over?" I scan the ground. "There's nothing here but your enormous feet!" 

"I have absolutely no idea." 

I tentatively reach out to grab his hand as we walk, letting them swing between us as we get closer to the building. Scott smiles over at me with a slightly misgevious glint in his eyes.

"It's to make sure you don't fall again."

"You're such a liar, Berry," he smirks.

I scoff quietly, smiling a bit as well. He's right.

Scott holds one of the large glass doors open for me, dramatically lifting his arm to invite me inside.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," I slur in a dreadful British accent.

"Anything for a fine lady like yourself!"

I laugh, running ahead to do the same for him, beckoning him through the final door to the restaurant in the same manor.

"Thank you very much," he giggles, bobbing a little curtsy.

"Anything for a fine lady!" I mimic.

He snaps his fingers and struts into the coffee shop, swinging his hips like a runway star. I shake my head, chuckling.

After we get our drinks, I spot my favorite table and run for it.

"Oh oh oh, I want the window seat!" I yell childishly, hopping in to the tall bar stool seated in front of a small two-person table.

The table sits right in the corner of the  the shop, where two walls of decorated windows meet. Afternoon sunlight shines in through the half sheathed blinds. It sets the perfect amount of lighting and warmth upon the tables, creating a mood of orange happiness.

He plops down opposite to me, grinning from ear to ear at my face with a far-off look, adoration glinting in his eyes.

"You're beautiful." he whispers.

"Thank you..." I blush.

"And your name is spelled wrong." he points to my cup amusedly.

I glance down, finally noticing the audacious spelling of my name. "Mych" is scribbled onto the side of the plastic with sharpie. I throw my hands up, pulling a face.

"How in the Hell?!"

"Your name is so simple!" he guffaws, "I swear they get it wrong on purpose. There's no way."

"They got your's right! No fair."

"Also, how do you drink soy in your coffee?" he glares at my drink with distaste. "And with double shot? Disgusting."

I shrug, taking a long sip of my delicious coffee. "At lease I don't dilute the stuff until it literally tastes like just milk and sugar."

He laughs, stopping for a second to check a new text. He seems to look away for a second, and then realizes what he just saw. He makes a double take, face paling as he raises the phone closer to his face.

"Mitch..."

"What is it??"

He holds the phone out and I grab it from him as fast as I can. I blink a few times, not really processing what I'm looking at.

Then it sinks in.

It's a picture of a Starbucks. Our Starbucks, the one we're sitting in right now. The picture is zoomed in on a certain corner of the shop, --my window seat-- and focused on... Us.

We're both frozen in a laughing stance, completely oblivious to the stalker across the street. My heart drops when I look at what number it came from.

"Scott, this isn't the same person from before, is it?"

He nods, both hands over his mouth.

I whip around, scanning the street and sidewalks for someone, anyone that could have taken that picture. But there's strangely no people in sight. I shake my head with disbelief, biting my lip.

I pull the phone back up to my face, furrowing my eyebrows as I search the photo once more. I notice something that I didn't even see at first glance.

In the very bottom right corner is a strand of long, dark brown hair, blowing in the wind.

~~~