Bad Boy's Shy Girl (New Version)

[ 3 ] - The One With Too Much Coffee

       The amount of coffee I drink on a daily basis is unhealthy : a cup every morning - sometimes two - for the passed three years was extremely unhealthy for someone my age, especially for my age, but the amount of coffee that I've drunken in the past half hour surpassed that by a long run. I'm surely positive that the guy behind the counter ( Mr. Brown I think his name was) was worried for my health as was Ms. Flanders, and, maybe Noah; I have no idea. The moment he sat down a chair away with his back slightly facing toward me he hasn't said a word if it wasn't about Social Studies, which I'm fine with, it was a-oh-Kay with me.

Ms. Flanders found that a little rude at first for a 'young man' like Noah, but he just flashed her the same look he's been giving everyone since he was thirteen and like that - (que the snap) - she shut up and turned around going back to Mr. Brown. They've been talking to themselves ever since she introduced us, once in a while she'd look over her shoulder to us to check up, but other than that she didn't interfere again.

That bothered me.

How Noah and I began working was a little strange, I'd try and attempt to tell him about the story line of Ancient Rome, more specifically about England and the Roman Empire, and while I stuttered out the reasons behind it, he either stared at me with the same hard eyes and bored expression he's held all day or look down at his paper. When I'd finish off my history lesson he'd answer with a grunt or a puff of air or a little nod of his head before ducking down and continuing on with the homework while I sat there like an idiot with her legs crossed and secretly looking at him from the sides of my eyes; occasionally i sipped my coffee to make it seem like I was actually doing something instead of staring at him like the freak that I was, but he didn't seem to care.

He never seemed like he cared, now that I think of it. Every time we'd bump into each other in the hallways he never seemed to care, he never cared when people would stay a certain amount of distance away from him when walking in the halls, and he didn't care when it came down to doing something illegal as shop lifting or high-jacking a car. Or maybe he does and I have this all wrong, maybe he does care when people stay away from him, but he's just so used to it now that it's like a routine for him. Like me and my coffee.

I ignored Ms. Flanders and Mr. Brown's staring at the back of my head as I walked back to the table after serving my sixth cup of coffee, the liquid seeped through the cup warming up my palm in seconds. I sat down in my seat and took an small sip of it before setting it down on the table and rearranging my legs; I brought one knee up to my chest and easily pushed aside the sudden burst of adrenaline that coursed through me due to the sweetness of the sugar. Briefly I glanced at Noah to see if he needed any help but was too closed off to ask me, and was surprised when i saw him looking back at me. I rushed to move my eyes elsewhere, praying that he wouldn't look into my blotched cheeks.

Thankfully he didn't. He just looked at the cup of coffee curiously before looking to his paper and scribbled down whatever answer was provided. When I didn't feel his eyes on me anymore, and when I felt my cheeks had settled down some, I glanced up. Usually when someone looked at me my first reaction was never to look away quickly so they wouldn't notice my blotched cheeks and/or neck; I always looked away casually to avoid any further interaction with them, and that always seemed to work. And it never happened as frequently as you'd think since I never really had the sense to look, but with Noah, I found myself wanting too.