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Cafes are my haven. Whenever I’m having a sh!tty day, I can always rely on a good dose of caffeine to pick-me up. Expressos. Cappuccinos. Lattes. Mochas. You name it — I drink it. I’m a coffee fiend. I’ve been drinking coffee since I was nine — Dad gave up on trying to wean me off it.
If I went to a Coffeeholics Anonymous group, I’d say loud and proud that “I’m a coffee addict. What are you going to do about it, b!tches?” Then I’d go back to a cafe afterwards and order a macchiato.
* * *
“Do you think I’m a slvt?” Gina says suddenly.
She’s flicking through a copy of Teen Vogue. Her coffee is getting colder by the minute. Outside the snow is falling in large white clumps. Milky snow transforms vehicles into snowcars.
“Huh?” I empty a sachet of sweetener into my coffee cup.
“Am I a slvt, Amelie?”
What should I say to that? Well…
“Uh…”
“Just be completely honest with me,” Gina takes a sip of her coffee.
Might as well admit it. She did ask… “Technically you are.”
She looks up from her magazine and grins thoughtfully. “Yeah, I am. That’s true…”
Uh-oh. Gina’s back to her old ways. “Don’t tell me you’re being a serial slvt again, Gina.”
“Serial slvt — I like that,” she samples the phrase carefully as if she’s savouring a fine vintage, “Yeah, I’ve slept with seven boys this past week.”
I can’t say I’m surprised. Boys are like ice cream flavours to Gina — she has to taste them all. If she doesn’t have her daily boy-fix, she gets irritable. Then Marie and I have to put up with all her sh!t.
“Are you crazy? What about Nicolas, Florian and the other guy?”
“You mean Lukas?” Gina has a fantastic memory, I’ll give her that.
“I’ve lost track of all their names…”
“They’re all clueless.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t found out by now.”
She starts to draw a moustache on a photo of Kate Moss (Gina is anti-Kate). “Most are stupid. They each believe I’m their girlfriend…”
“Ten different boyfriends — that’s a record…”
Her eyes brighten. “I never get bored, Amelie. Why don’t you come with me next Saturday? Loosen up a bit.”
“Never going to happen…” I ruffle her hair.
“Party poop—fvck!” she sticks her tongue out and bites it in the process.
Gina’s eyes widen and her face pales.
“What?”
“That guy…” she whispers.
I follow her panicked gaze to two guys who’ve just entered the cafe. They’re waiting for their drinks by the till. I smile widely — what a delightful coincidence!
I know. I’m naturally evil. She doesn’t like to see more of her countless “boyfriends” than necessary — Gina gets agitated. “What guy? Hey, there’s Florian! Let’s call him over—”
“Shut up!”
Realisation washes over me. She’s playing a dangerous game now… “Ohhh. I get it now. You cheated on Florian with one of his friends—”
“Hide me. Tell me when they’re gone…” Gina has her hand up to her face.
“They’re heading our way, Gi—”
That gets a squeal out of her. I watch as Gina dashes off with the magazine against the side of her face. She nearly stumbles into an attractive businessman as she mistakenly enters the gent’s toilets. He gives her a strange look. Gina winks at him and a rosy blush tinges his cheeks. She’s already sizing up his sharp Armani suit like how a shark hungrily gazes upon it’s prey. Oh no (all thoughts of Florian and his friend are soon forgotten)…
Now she’s chatting with him.
He’s completely rapt in conversation with her. It’s lust at first sight…
I roll my eyes. Gina is such a twisted Lolita. Let’s just say, she knows how to use her charms…
She flashes him a slinky smile as they exchange numbers. Job done. Gina looks like the cat who’s got the cream. My girl’s got him — he’s already in her clutches.
I can’t help smiling. Whatever works for her. As long as she’s happy…
Gina’s two boyfriends decide against sitting in. They’re now safely outside. That was close…
The door reopens and allows a gust of cold, windy air to disturb the cosy warmth of the cafe. Gina’s eyes brighten. She jabs my arm.
“Sexy man alert.”
“Not another one…” I don’t bother to turn around.
She continues to pester me (throwing in a few suggestive winks) until I finally give in. There’s only so many sexy men you can see before you start to get bore—
Sh!t.
It’s him. Well, I take my words back — Navarro’s an exception.
The coach isn’t alone though. There’s a smartly dressed woman with him. She’s talking to him intensely. His head is tilted to one side as he listens, occasionally making comments.
He’s delicious. I would lick anything off his body—all day and night. Chocolate, clotted cream and… I’ll leave the last one to your imagination, eh? I’m getting all hot under the collar just staring at him. Grinning, Gina clicks her fingers in my face.
“You’re drooling, babe…” she has a lightbulb moment, “let’s go over and say “hi”.”
“No!” I gasp.
“You can talk to him about that sexy first team spot,” she trills.
Despite my protests, she drags me over to his table. I nearly stumble on a travel bag by his feet. Gina coughs loudly to gain his attention. He looks away from the woman and smiles at us. It’s a shock to me. So he’s being professional now… Usually he’s a miserable b@stard. Navarro has a nice smile — who am I kidding? — his smile is incredible. White. Straight. Gleaming. Seriously, that smile could launch a thousand ships.
I still remember how those silky, sensuous lips felt against mine…
Dreams help me to relive the experience.
“Gina. Van Hoff,” he nods a greeting at us, snapping me out of my daydream.
It’s like Navarro’s afraid to call me by my name. Someone should tell him that he won’t catch leprosy if he says “Amelie” every once in a while.
“Hi, Coach! Fancy meeting you here…” Gina says.
I shuffle my feet awkwardly by her side.
His brown eyes twinkle. “Still practicing hard, Van Hoff?”
Don’t blush. Don’t you dare blush. I can’t help it — Navarro’s remark is…suggestive. My face must be scarlet with mortification. His smile merely broadens and he looks away. So infuriating. You’re never too hot for me to handle, b@stard.
“I coach these girls, Therese,” he says.
“Oh.”
She gives us a casually dismissive smile. We’re just two flies in her soup. Gina’s annoyed. Once you’ve rankled her, you’re automatically in her bad books… Therese had better watch out.
“Who’s she?” Gina deliberately directs the question at him.
“I’m his fiancée— Therese Weber,” Therese places her manicured hand possessively on Navarro’s lower arm.
My jaw drops. A solitaire diamond engagement ring dazzles on her finger. It’s simple, classic and tasteful. The complete antithesis of The Golddigger’s flashy style.
A/N: Please VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE! Thanks ;) What do you think of Therese? :D Dmitri