Seventeen | ✔️

Part One

Part One

The Mysterious Man with the Deep Voice

The coffee shop five minutes from school was a classic if you were seeking early-morning caffeine, trying to wake yourself up for the day ahead, or even if you just wanted some peace and quiet.

When I opened the door, the bell on top jingled, alerting the employees of a new customer. I instantly became encompassed in the intense smell of coffee beans. The environment warm and welcoming. I stepped up to the counter to order my usual coffee the way I liked it: black.

For some reason, the tradition of getting a simple coffee with nothing added in it had begun last semester during finals week. I had been in a rush one morning to get to my algebra exam, an exam that I had stupidly forgotten to study for until the night of, calling for a much-needed all-nighter. So you could say I desperately needed the caffeine to wake me up to avoid falling asleep during the test. All I had time for was a plain coffee, nothing else. And not to mention, the absence of creamer would give me even more of a caffeine boost. Since then, I had become addicted to the bitter taste of black coffee.

I took a seat at one of the circular tables and pulled out my laptop, set on getting my homework done. We had the entire summer, and knowing me, I had procrastinated until the day before I had to go back to school. It wasn't like I had an excuse for not getting my homework done, like going back home to Maryland to visit my family, because I hadn't done that. I spent the entirety of the summer in Ann Arbor, rarely even leaving school grounds. I spent most of my days lying in bed binging Netflix series rather than doing anything productive with my time.

"Black coffee?" A deep, male voice asked from beside me.

I looked over to identify the person who was so interested in my drink of choice, noticing a man, probably in his early 20's with messy brown hair and a clean-shaven face. His pink-tinted lips were pursed and plump, and he looked like he could have been a model, but he was too unkempt for that.

"You need to spice it up. You always order that," the man said.

"How do you know that?" I asked, trying not to be too skeptical. Although, it mildly freaked me out that this random man knew my order.

"I'm here every Sunday morning, and you always order the same thing," He stated. "It can't even be that good. Black coffee? Talk about bitter." He wrinkled his nose and took a sip of his own drink.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't exactly come here to be judged by some random stalker," I retorted, which made him laugh. "But since you insist on interrupting my morning, how would you suggest I 'spice it up'?"

"Cinnamon latte," the man said, taking a sip and raising his cup of coffee in the air. "It's way better than what you get."

I rolled my eyes. "I doubt it."

The man spoke one last time. "Don't knock it till you try it, stranger." He threw in a seductive wink which took me by surprise, and I felt my heart flutter a bit ... Sheesh. The mysterious man with the deep voice then stood up and left. I couldn't stop myself from watching him as he left the coffee shop, getting in his hideously damaged white sedan and driving away. But the image of the man was still imprinted in my mind: He was likely the most handsome man I had ever seen, close to perfect features and all. I admit that I was oddly attracted to him. I shook my head and brushed off the thought. He was just some random weirdo, anyway. I opened up my laptop, ignoring the sudden urge to get up and order a cinnamon latte.

Over my dead body.

After around 6 hours of finishing homework, I headed back to my school: a boarding school called Arbor Coast High in Michigan, also known as the place my parents sent me from Maryland because they could no longer stand having me around. So why did they send me away, you ask?