Chapter 3: Why Am I An Awkwardness Magnet?

47.7K 2.6K 875
                                    


As I was putting on a pair of earrings, I heard a soft knock on my bedroom door. I didn't need to ask to know who it was. "Come in Dad."

Not to my surprise, my father's head crept its way into the opened door frame and just hung there. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was a floating head with no body.

"I'm leaving in a bit. Want me to drop you off at work on the way?" He suggested.

"That would be great, thanks Dad." I replied, walking back to my bed. I tossed the covers around in search for my strap bag. I could've sworn I put it on my bed last night. "I'll be down in a few."

He replied with a nod and closed the door. You see, that is one of the main reasons why I like my dad. He understands what privacy is. He believes in knocking before entering and closing the door afterwards. I will never get people who just waltz into your room and walk out of it, leaving the door wide open for the entry of insects, animals, monsters, mythical creatures and even worse, humans.

I found my bag on the floor beside my bed. After throwing it over my head and onto one shoulder, I quickly made my way downstairs and out of the house.

Doors were made for a freaking reason, okay? If my door is closed, it's closed for a reason. Not that I'm doing anything bad or illegal. No. I just prefer to be in the comfort of my room instead of having to be forced into some sort of muggle interaction. Why is it so hard for people to understand such a simple concept? I don't think anyone likes it when someone opens their bedroom door and leaves without closing it. So how come people still do it, even though they hate it when it's done to them? Is it in our blood as human beings to be naturally annoying?

"Marianne, you can get out of the car now."

I turned to my dad who had a fat grin plastered on his face. I sighed. "Right."

"Have a good day." He said, ruffling my hair.

"Dad, no." I groaned, patting my hair back into place. "I'm not four, you can't just do that anymore."

I opened the car door and slammed it shut. Guilt began to crawl its way into me as I turned to face the café.

"I have a long shift today. Do you mind picking me up afterwards?" I asked, gripping the edge of the rolled down passenger's side window.

His slight frown began to turn into a smile as he looked up from the pedals. "Sure thing kiddo."

***

My shift was slowly coming to its end. It felt as if the day was somehow elongating even more as the hours went by. We hardly had any customers come in and Mr Ramirez had some business deal to go to, so he never showed up either.

Bethany was fighting with Claire, another waitress at the café, over serving a certain customer. I honestly couldn't care less but I just happened to be sitting behind the cash register and involuntarily eavesdropped.

Apparently he was 'eye candy' but looking up and away from my phone would count as unnecessary movement, so I didn't bother checking him out. After winning the 'debate' and serving the poor guy, Bethany was going on and on about how she was convinced he found her attractive and wanted her to have his babies or something.

Love is so overrated. Everything about it just screams eww and gross. You'd be stupid to think something would last forever, especially a relationship. People change and so do their feelings. You can't base your whole life on something you're not even sure will be there til the end. And that's what love is.

Let's face it, none of those cliché situations from movies between a guy and a girl ever happen in real life. I'm not going to end up accidentally bumping into my future husband in a café, spilling a latte over him. I'm not going to go up to some random stranger and ask him for directions and he'll become mesmerised by my eyes and fall in love with me. The window of my bedroom doesn't happen to be situated opposite to that of a bad boy neighbour.

The constant movement of something in front of me snapped me out of my little trance. It was a hand. A waving hand. A guy's waving hand. A smiling guy's waving hand.

Oh shit, he's hot. He probably thinks I was checking him out.

No, no, no. I wasn't. He's probably used to it. I mean, look at him.

Geez, why me? Why do I always end up in situations I'd rather not be in?

Why am I an awkwardness magnet?

Great, now he's coming over.

Kill me.

----------

A/N:

Guess who has an anatomy practical exam this week and knows absolutely nothing? *jazz hands* this girl!!

Have to start thinking about a name for this mystery guy...

Dedicated to delanira

Feel free to comment, vote, follow, whatever :')

----------

Awks. ✓Where stories live. Discover now