The Coffee Spill |Demi Lovato|

Chapter 42

Written 2015
Revised April 2021
A/N - This chapter is twice the length of my other chapters. I know...these chapters can be hella short compared to other stories on here. But I used to post them on instagram so for an Instagram caption, 1,000 words was long. On here its short lol. Please enjoy!

*Ellies POV*
*Next day*
"You're going to do great, baby." Demi says through the phone. I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, putting on a pair of dress shoes. Her encouraging words make my lips curl into a smile.

"Thanks, I'll call you later today to tell you all about it." I say, standing up, letting my feet adjust to the new shoes. I rarely dress up and even though I've owned these shoes for a few years, the pristine soles tell me this is my first time wearing them.

"You better." She says before hanging up the phone. I toss my phone on the bed, checking myself out in the mirror. I had to settle on a blue turtle neck for my first day of work. I tried various scarves, but none of them stayed in place long enough to cover up the love bites Demi left from my neck down to my cleavage and below. I wasn't taking any chances of letting a thin piece of fabric fall and expose my neck, especially on my first day of work at an elementary school. A catholic one at that.

I take my time driving to school. With the uncertainty of Los Angeles rush hour traffic, I left my apartment a little before seven thirty, giving myself over thirty minutes to drive a measly 7 miles. Better early than late. I pull into the first teacher's parking spot I found. I open my car door slowly, careful to not scratch my brand new car against the pole. I probably shouldn't have parked here. As I walk towards the front doors of the school, I can feel myself start to loose control. My hands are shaking and my stride has increased, both indicators that my anxiety is building. I stop in the middle of the parking lot, deciding to do a quick exercise I learned in theatre in high school. I shake my arms, counting down from ten before shaking my legs. I count downwards until I reach one, shaking all four limbs at once. It's an exercise actors and actresses would do to get nervous jitters out before walking onstage. I was never one to perform onstage, I worked backstage. Nonetheless, the exercise helped me in this moment of anxiousness. I fix my shirt which had risen up a bit, exposing my lower stomach. I take a deep breath, walking through the set of doors and into the lobby.

Ms. Sanchez is at the front desk, talking to the main office clerk. She catches me from the corner of her eye, stopping her conversation to walk towards me with a smile on her face. She is wearing a black pencil skirt again, but this time instead of a white button down shirt revealing her cleavage, she's wearing a red button down shirt, matching perfectly with her red stilettos and red lipstick.

"Ellie." She says, walking up to me, embracing me in a hug. I forgot she mentioned she was a hugger. I lightly hug back, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Demi is my girlfriend, and I wouldn't want me hugging an attractive women in skin tight clothing to constitute as cheating. Paparazzi can be everyone, and it wouldn't surprise me if they were hiding in some bush or pretending to escort their kid into the school for a blurry photo of me wrapped in some other women's arms. I don't need that, especially today.

"Hi, Ms. Sanchez." I say.

"Oh please, call me Andrea." She says, letting go of the hug, looking at me deeply. I swallow, a lump in the back of my throat forms.

"O-ok, Andrea." I say, agreeing to her demand.

"Follow me, I'll show you to your classroom." Andrea says, tugging on my arm slightly. I follow her down a long corridor that is decorated with dozens of student artwork. I smile, taking in each piece as I kept up with Ms. Sanchez- I mean Andrea. Andrea's hips sway as she turns the corner and up the stairs. She is no where near dressed appropriately for such a job. But I'm in no place to say anything unless I want to get fired before I even start. I try my best to look away, only glancing a few times. What? It's hard not to. We turn one final corner before entering a classroom that compared to the other classrooms I looked into when walking past them, was very bare. The classroom had the basics. Tables, chairs, a rug for reading circle, a teachers desk and chair and a few posters that advertised numbers as well as the alphabet. Other than that, there was nothing else. Other classrooms had toys, decor, pops of color. This had almost nothing.