Messages on a Coffee Cup

Chapter 19

   I sipped my cold latte dramatically as Kim started her shitty Volkswagen Beetle and we pulled out of the hospital parking lot. As we began to drive, Cameron decided to break the news about his new found love for a tall, slightly annoying Kimberly. He explained everything in detail all the way up to the point when I cut my hand open all over Kim's bedroom floor; he even explained the make out session.

   Ethan sat there for a while in silence as he attempted to absorb this information.

   "So, you're telling me that directly after walking in on Holland and I, you proceeded to somehow recreate the scene you walked in on with Kimberly on Holland's bed?"

   Cameron nodded in shame.

   "Wait, what," Kimberly questioned. "You two are going out?"

   Ethan grabbed my un-injured hand and kissed it, "Yup. She's wearing my lacrosse sweater for christ sake."

   The remainder of the car ride consisted of me swearing

because of my hand, Ethan swearing because of his foot, and Kim and Cameron telling us to shut up because their favorite song was on the radio. Jerks.   

   We pulled up to Kim's house and hopped out of her claustrophobic car.

   I helped Ethan out and served as his crutch as we walked up the front stairs. It was like eight-thirty, we still had some time to kill.

   "Who's up for pizza?

   "Holland," Ethan explained, "I believe the real question here is who isn't up for pizza?"

   On that note, I called Franco's Pizzeria and ordered two medium pepperoni pizza to be delivered at nine.

   I got off of the phone with the pizza place and plopped myself down in front of the television next to Ethan, leaning my head on his shoulder as he put his arm around me.

   "I'm sorry," I confessed.

   "Sorry about what?" he asked in confusion.

   "Your ankle and ruining your future in sports."

   "Hey, it's not your fault. I chose to run instead of taking the bus. It was my fault."

   "If anything it was Kim and Cameron's fault," I stated, glaring at them as Kimberly set the table and Cam hugged her from behind.

   "Nope, it was all me," he assured.

   "Why do you sound so sure?"

   "Because Shakespeare doesn't lie; 'The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves'."

   "Touché."

   Suddenly, the doorbell rang and I heard Kim yell, "Pizza's here!"

   We all rushed towards the door, well, all except Ethan, he limp-ran to the door. He placed himself behind me and hugged me tight. 

   "God you're adorable," I whisper under my breath.   "The

pizza's on us guys. After all, we did kind of single-handedly cause both of your injuries," Cameron declared.

   "Told ya," I whispered to Ethan.

   He let out a chuckle causing both Cameron and Kim to look at him in confusion.

   They paid the delivery guy and we finally sat down to eat. 

~

   We finished two boxes of pizza not even ten minutes later putting most of us in a food coma.

   "Shit! I'm really tired. See ya," Kimberly exclaimed through a yawn as she got up to walk upstairs.

   "Yeah," Cameron excused, "I'm going to make sure she sleeps and stuff."

   "Okay! What ever you do, leave my god forsaken mattress out of it!"

   Cameron flashed me a thumbs up and chased up the stairs after Kim.

   I saw Ethan limp-move towards me with a serious yet sexy 

look on his face. As soon as he wrapped his arms around my waist, my phone started to ring, again. It was mom. Hesitantly, I answered as Ethan continued to hug me ferociously. I swear, this guy's bear hugs are like snuggling a freaking yeti.

   "Hi honey. How are you?"

   "Uh, slightly injured. You?"

   "I'm good. Listen, a friend of mine offered me a place to stay the night. I'll probably be home before you come home from school."

   "Okay, Mom."

   "Well, sweet dreams sweetheart. Catch you in the morning!"

   The line went dead and I hung up the phone. She didn't even ask what happened for me to be "slightly injured". Screw it

   I threw my phone onto the couch carelessly and looked Ethan in the eyes. I put my lips to his ear and whispered a three syllable word that I never in a million years thought I would be able to say to a guy.  

   "Sleepover?"

   "What about school?" he asked, innocently.

   "Fuck it."