Southern Belle

Ch. 7 The Guy with the Aviators

"Can you start working now? I know you just got here and everything, but we honestly need a lot of help. All of the other students are arriving, and they always come for a good cup of joe."

I sighed as I looked down at the face of my new manager, Carey, who was a hot mess. Her mahogany hair,  loosely bound in a high bun, had chucks of flour smeared into it. Her black pencil skirt clearly displayed how hectic work was today--huge blotches of coffee were splattered all over the front. Her face was flushed, and her nostrils flared as she tried catching her breath. However, she was quite pretty; her huge blue eyes were the color of the Caribbean ocean, and I envied her flawless skin. 

"I don't know," I replied solemnly and pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ears. "I really wanted to relax and take in my surroundings and-"

"Please," she begged. Her lips pouted slightly, making a pang of guilt appear in my chest. I thought I saw tears brimming on her bottom eye-lids. "Just for three hours at least."

Ugh. The day kept on getting better and better.

I wanted to reject her plea, but I honestly needed the money for books, food, clothing, and other necessities. I promised my parents that if I came to Stanford, I would pitch in with the money, and this was the only place hiring right now.

I could see why. Rose's Cafe was a hot spot on campus. Everyone came there to socialize, to grab a cup of delicious coffee or hot chocolate, and to then go to class happily. The black plastic tables each had a large vase of red roses on them, and the swivel seats had soft red, beaded cushions on them. The dark lighting, and the soft pinks and whites on the walls had a calming effect on all of the costumers. 

"Fine. Only for three hours." I grabbed the striped apron from the counter that we were talking near and put in on. 

"Oh, you're an angel! I love you!" She leaned in and kissed me twice, once on each cheek. Before I could even gasp, she ran off towards customers to greet them.

Awkward.

"Don't worry, I'll be here to help you," A petite, brown-haired girl sat down at the stool next to me. Her almond shaped eyes had long lashes, her small lips were tinted with coral, and her high cheekbones were to die for. Walt Disney must've created Mulan based off of her looks.

Goddammit, why were all the females at Stanford drop-dead gorgeous? I just wanted to see one butt-ugly person walk into this cafe.

One ugly person besides me.

"Awesome. My name's Belle," I replied and stuck out my hand in front of me.

Without hesitation, the girl took my hand and shook it softly. She smiled at me, flashing her pearly whites. "Brynn. Nice to meet you! Where are you from? I just flew in from New York yesterday. It's my freshman year."

I grabbed a yellow notebook off of the counter. Jamming my hand into my back pocket of my jeans, I grabbed a manila-colored rubber band to tie my hair into a pony tail. "Same. I live in Alabama."

A snort escaped Brynn's mouth, and her hands instantly flew to cover up her laughing. However, she giggled again, even louder this time.

What was so wrong about being from the South? I mean, sure people drank a lot. And cared a ton about their appearances. And didn't have manners. And talked with stupid accents. And smelled like poo. And got married super early and popped out hundreds of kids.

Okay, nevermind. 

"Excuse me," she chortled and held the left stomach right above her hips with her right arm. She took a pause before continuing. "I took one good look at your boots...Just excuse me. I laugh at everything. Like, I laughed at the my uncle's funeral when they were burying him. It wasn't funny, but I still laughed. Okay, maybe it was sorta funny. My uncle was four hundred pounds, and the workers almost broke their backs trying to carry his body."