Messages on a Coffee Cup

Chapter 7

   I woke up from my blood induced slumber in an unfamiliar place. With my eyes still closed, I forced myself to sit up as I took in a deep breath of popcorn scented air. I opened my eyes and was completely taken back by my surroundings. In front of me was a wall to wall movie theatre screen with at least 30 speakers randomly placed throughout the entire spacious room. I reached for my phone to check the time but was interrupted by a voice.

   "Good morning sleeping beauty," Ethan said charmingly.

   I blushed. An instant pain stabbed at my hand. It felt like someone had smashed it with freaking Thor's hammer.

   "Did we at least get out of detention?"

   He laughed, "Yeah , yeah we did. You hit like a freaking UFC fighter, I can tell you that much."

   "Let me see it," I exclaimed as I got up to view the results of the hardest punch ever thrown by a 16 year old girl.

   "Oh God," I yelled in disgust as I gazed my eyes upon the three inch gash on his left cheekbone. "Did you even disinfect it?!"

   He shook his head.

   "Ew it's all bloody! Let me clean it out considering you clearly don't know how."

   "Okay just don't hurt me anymore! You got it," he said mockingly.

   "Hey! Where do you keep the rubbing alcohol," I asked while exiting the theatre room.

   "Bathroom cabinet! Second door on the right!"

   I returned with the disinfectant, put some on a make up pad from my backpack, and gently applied it to his cut. He winced in pain. The gash was only like a centimetre deep, but it was bruising fast.

   "You done yet," he asked anxiously. "It feels like you're pouring corrosive acid on my face!"

   "God you're such a baby! Now hold still before I poke you in the god damn eye," I said as I finished cleaning his battered cheek.

   "Your turn."

   I placed my bruised and cut up hand in his and watched as his mysterious blue eyes assessed the damage. He poured the rubbing alcohol on my throbbing extremity, burning the bacteria that had found a home in my cut flesh.

   "Crap! That stings!!"

   "Its okay you'll be fine," he said calmly. He pulled out gauze from his back pocket and wrapped it around my stinging knuckles.

   "Thanks," I saed smiling shyly. God he was beautiful.

   Our eyes met, sending a wave of attraction through my body, making me bite my lip again. If he kept this up, I wouldn't have had a lip by the end of the night. I instinctively looked away in fear of getting too close too fast. He realized this and adverted his gaze down to the hardwood floor in embarassement. 

   "Well, I should get you home. Your parents are probably worri-"

   I gently put my head on his shoulder and moved my body closer to his.

   "Trust me," I said attractively looking up at him, "The last

place I want to be is at home."

   I leaned in until our foreheads were touching, his arm draped around my shoulder, and placed my lips on his cheek, kissing him innocently. 

   "Thank you," I whispered seductively.

   "No problem," he replied moving his face closer to mine.

   "There's one other thing I want though."

   "And what is that?" he wondered, falling into the trap of false hope I had just set out for him.

   I brought my mouth to his ear and whispered, "How about some Starbucks?"

Maybe Starbucks will be our support group.