Chapter 2

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The door opens and the doorbell rings.

I love the smell of freshly baked goods. If I could, I wouldn't mind living here forever. The atmosphere is just so calm, relaxing and welcoming.

Except for the shrill, enthusiastic voice that just attacked my ears.

- THERESA!

- Calm down, girl – I try to say, which becomes a bit complicated when from a supposed friend of yours (as far as I know they shouldn't try to kill each other, but ok) - I understand that it is very exciting to be in the presence of your excellency, aka me, but I am a human being, which means I need oxygen to survive.

- God! You're such a killjoy. I've seen that you've been spending a lot of time with Sofia - Bea complains, making a sort of pout (not working, girl) - Do you want anything?

- A nutella croissant and an orange juice, please - I say in a way that I consider to be very cute, giving her a little smile. And with that, Bea turns her back on me and goes to get me the food.

Meanwhile, I sit down in an unoccupied table, open my notebook and take out a pencil to continue writing while I have a snack. If my calculations aren't wrong, I still have a couple of hours until Anna's dispatched, so I'm going to make the best of the time I can.

After more than half an hour of writing, I can say that today my imagination decided to roll up its sleeves. This last week, I've been suffering from a writers block that was irritating me to no end. Fortunately, at this point, the words seem to flow easily and I'm pleased with the direction they're going. I also have to give credit to my amazing playlist, which consists of cigarettes after sex, jogi (yes, I love my melo music) and maybe some songs from The Weekend (don't ask me which ones *not so guilty - very guilty– side eye *). Ah... And I can't forget the kpop songs (duh – shoutout to my fellow stays).

In short, I'm very focused, more than in classes (saying this like it's difficult), which leads me to have a mini heart attack when I hear the doorbell ringing and Bea's screams (she should honestly think about going to the hospital – it's not normal for someone to talk that loud – still love you though, girl).

When my eyes look up from the paper to the counter, the first thing I notice is the huge smile resting on Bea's face as she addresses the new customer. Which leads me to change the trajectory of my gaze towards that person.

He is standing sideways, which allows me to evaluate his features. He seems to be much taller than me (I am saying this like it's hard), as he still gives Bia about fifteen centimeters with ease.

The boy is handsome. No. Scratch that. The boy is BEAUTIFUL. I'm not exaggerating. I know I do it often, but in this case it's for real. With a few strands of dark brown hair covering his also dark brown eyes, a kind smile on his lips, a jawline to die for, and a his soft, and a bit deep, voice while talking to Bia, I think I fell in love.

Joking.

But the guy is extremely handsome, believe me.

Bea says a joke or something stupid (nothing new) which makes the boy laugh. And when I tell you that I have never heard laughter as attractive as his, I am not lying. I'm going into hyperventilation. Someone save me!

I'm going to bet he's around my age just by his style. He's wearing loose, light blue jeans, black and white Nike sneakers (they must be cheap) and a jacket that I think belongs to a baseball team. All this accompanied by a black backpack. It looks like he could be a university student. Does he go to ours? But I never saw him? I doubt. I would never forget a boy like that.

Okay, now is a good opportunity to look away before he feels like he's being watched. Not letting the guy think I'm a stalker, or something like that (but to be honest, if he thought that, he wouldn't be wrong).

I decide to pay attention back to the mess I have on the table. I'm not going to be here forming a crush on this guy. He must have enough girls after him already. He could even have a girlfriend. I'm not one to take what belongs to others. Or he could also be one of those playboys, you know? But the way he addressed Bea made him seem very friendly, so I have my doubts.

Speaking of Bea, while the boy looks away to get his wallet, she turns to me and, when she realizes that I notice her, starts moving her eyebrows and mumbles an inaudible "he's cute, right?".

I roll my eyes. Theresa, just ignore her and concentrate!

And that's how I continued to fill the pages of my notebook with my amazing writing skills.

I know what you're thinking. No. I did NOT notice how he sat at one of the tables in front of mine, exactly in line with my field of vision. I did NOT see how he took off his sweater and was left with just a black t-shirt that look so, but so good on him. It fitted him perfectly (why are black shirts so hot? I'll never understand). NOR that he started reading a book (that 's how you know he's the one) while NOT drinking his second coffee. NO. I was obviously very focused on what I was doing, not what HE was doing, in the last ten minutes.

Who am I kidding? Ever since He came, I lost my focus.

I look at my watch and see that it's only been an hour! Meaning I still have another full hour before Ana arrives and I can go home!

This is going to be hard!


Next chapter...

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