𝐌 𝐈 𝐃 𝐍 𝐈 𝐆 𝐇 𝐓

11| 𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘪̀𝘢

/𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥/

𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗

☾

I wouldn't say I was addicted to coffee.

However, I did drink it to avoid my problems.

That included getting up early every morning to avoid Mike and get coffee and also including me procrastinating the hour walk it would take me to get to Alexander's house. Once I clicked one his address I realized it could be a fifteen minute drive and I momentarily thought about paying for a taxi.

I held the iced americano in my hands and sighed. I was used to long walks anyway.

The walk there actually wasn't that bad. The weather was pretty cool and it thankfully hadn't rained again.

'Your destination is on the right.'

I took a few more steps.

'You have arrived.'

I looked to my right and jaw dropped.

Alex's house was huge. It had to be at least four floors and had large marble pillars in the front. There was a lit up fountain in the middle of the brick driveway and parked in the left corner was a familiar white jeep, in nothing but pristine condition.

I jumped back a little when the gate suddenly opened and I wearily stepped inside. My feet dragged as I walked up to the front. The knots in my stomach had no intention of releasing and for a moment I thought about running away.

Half way through my fantasy of opening a bakery in France and having a pet rat, the door opened revealing a thirteen year old boy with a bored expression on his face.

He rolled his eyes at me, "Alex, your friend is here!" he walked away leaving the door open and I reluctantly let myself in. Alex strolled down the grand staircase in a white long sleeve t-shirt that gripped onto every muscle in his arms and torso.

I forced myself to look away and to his face.

His large frame towered over mine as he looked down at me with a small smile.

"You look terrible."

The comment caught me off guard. Did he just-

The disrespect.

I felt my face heat up, again, and my heart began to race.

Only I would get butterflies from an insult.

You know, i might not be the best looking but i'm like 95% sure my music taste is better than his.

"Math. I need help with math." I stated plainly.

"No need to rush." He took my backpack off my shoulders and held it for me. "Besides," he brought his face dangerously close to mine and this time I couldn't bring myself back down, "I have something I really want to show you first."

A few minutes later Alexander had led me to the kitchen and when his father realized what he was doing, they got into an argument. I had no idea what the topic of the argument was but it seemed pretty heated.

I stood awkwardly as I watched them, biting the inside of my cheek.

You know, someone once told me that sadness was just anger but without enthusiasm.

I'm not entirely sure what they meant by that and I'm not sure if I could interchange the words 'enthusiasm' and 'motivation' but I'm sure they held the same principle. I believe it was because of this principle why I never actively fought against Mike, or kept pestering my mother about him. And why I just kept getting coffee early in the mornings to ignore them.