Flutter

Chapter 2- Confusion

A/N: Hello : ) I realized that not everyone is punjabi and don’t know what I’m talking about when I use Punjabi words, so I’m going to have a vocabulary list or definition every time I use Punjabi or brown words! I hope that helps! WOW! 24 reads!!! Please keep reading, comment/criticise, VOTE AND FOLLOW!!! I know the story was boring, but IT DOES GET BETTER. I promise… chapter 1 was a test. So, thank you again, wonderful people!

I woke with a start, my eyes snapping open, automatically going to my alarm clock. 3:30 a.m.

I licked my dry lips as I tried to remember how I had gotten into bed. I couldn’t remember anything except for making tea and going to sit in the living room, which was weird considering I was in my bed. I probably fell asleep and then half-dragged myself to bed later.

I got out of bed cautiously and walked into my warm bathroom. I turned on the tap to hot and pulled the shower lever, letting the water run.

As I stripped out of my clothes, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

My eyes were black and hard, my skin tired looking, lips red from being chewed too much, back and shoulder tense. In other words, I looked like shit.

I sighed at my reflection, stepped into the shower and let the hot water pelt my skin. The water stung like I was being whipped, but it felt good. I turned my back to the shower, letting it beat down on my shoulder, neck and back, loosening my muscles, at last relaxing.

I stepped out 30 minutes later shaved, shampooed, pampered and lotioned, reeking of vanilla.

I walked to my closet, a big fluffy towel wrapped around my body and hair.

I picked out a blue button-up shirt and black leggings. After pulling on my combat boots, I snuggled a cream scarf around my neck and put a pair of studs that Miles had gotten me for my 16th birthday. Letting my hair out, I parted it and exited my room.

Grabbing my shoulder bag and iPhone, I made my way down the stairs of my younger uncle’s lovely hotel.

When I got to the ground floor, I waved hi and bye to Carl, the co-owner of the Guardian hotel chains.

Taking a step out of the peaceful hotel lobby, I turned left and made my way down the crowded streets of downtown Toronto, filled with people heading to work, coming back from work, partying clubbers going home and people retiring home for the day.

The neon glow of the signs and the store lights brightened the still-dark streets, waking up the city, taking over until the sun came up.

Zig-zagging through people and a couple of turns later, I ended up in front of my addiction, Toby’s Corner, an expensive coffee shop. Oh, trust me, in no way was I spoilt. My English-Punjabi parents frowned upon the idea of me buying expensive coffee when I could just go to Tim Hortons, which would cost me a quarter of the price here. But my best guy friend, Miles worked here and therefore I got free food out of his employee discount.

I opened the door and the familiar aroma of strong coffee beans, chocolate and baked goods attack me.

I glided over to the counter and looked around, searching for a specific someone.

“There she is! I thought you would never come!” exclaimed a sarcastic voice.

“Shut-up Miles,” I grinned when I spotted the blondie at a table near the back with sober female customers. No shock there.

He excused himself politely and spoke to me as he walked to the kitchen. “Go to the booth, Robyn. I’ll be there in five.”

I plopped myself into a booth near the window and watched the glowing, dark violet sky indicate that the sun was going to make an appearance soon. Men wearing business suits passed in a hurry, young adults dressed in clubbing clothes scurried by, eager to get home and treat their drunken state. My thoughts drifted as I looked at the city life.