[3] The Secondary Inciting Incident

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...until now.


It's been over two months.

School is starting next week. It'll be my last year of high school. It had actually been a pretty great summer and I was excited to start my classes.

Now... not so much. After disappearing for like forever, this morning a certain mysterious, angsty teenager has stumbled back into my life again. This has brought up quite a few predicaments.

Even though I'm desperately hoping Jack is either in college now or goes to a different school than me, deep down I'm feeling uneasy that I might have to go to school with him. That would be a problem.

He stands in front of me with a tan from summer break and a pretty girl on his shoulder. He seems different. More relaxed. He chuckles lightly at something the girl said as he runs his hand through his untamed hair.


Seeing a smile on his face unnerves me. Everything about him unnerves me.


As soon as he turns his head and sees me, he becomes tense.





They approach the counter. I take a deep breath and do my best to calm myself.

I smile and nod toward him, "Hi, am I correct in assuming you'd like your coffee with one vanilla shot and no cream or sugar?"

He backs up slightly and brings his brows together "Wha- ...you still remember my order?" he asks, now raising his eyebrow and sporting an odd look of bewilderment on his face. That's weird. Jack doesn't get flustered.

"Well yeah" I respond, "...just part of the job," I offer with a weak smile. The look on his face- it quickly disappears.

I'm contemplating how I can further elaborate to make myself seem less creepy, but am soon stopped by the pretty girl next to him who rattles off her extremely specific frappe order to me.

I take down their orders, entering the information into the cash register, and ring up the bill.

"That'll be $9.23"

Jack fishes out his credit card from his wallet and is holding it out to me.

Our hands touch as I awkwardly have to stop him from handing it to me explaining, "Use the-- you have to slide your card using the scanner in front of you, right there," and I point to it on the counter, still blushing from the skin contact that occurred with the awkward brushing of our hands.

W-well... not just that, and from the embarrassing encounter in general.

I don't get flustered by skin contact. Nonetheless skin contact with him.

He makes an O shape with his mouth and proceeds to slide his credit card through the scanner and uses the stylus to provide his electronic signature.

It pops up on my screen and I almost smile.

So his name is Jack Summers. I mean, I can barely distinguish the letters as English, but I can tell them apart enough to know that his last name is Summers like I had thought.

"Okay, your order will be right up," I say, giving a slight smile and feeling a bit more relaxed.

Jack and the girl go sit down and I start making their coffee. I'm not trying to spy on them, but they are seated so close to the counter that I can overhear their conversation. It's not eavesdropping if they were the ones that chose to sit so close.

I wouldn't--I'm not listening on purpose.


I mean, why would I want, why would I care to know any of what Jack Summers has to say?

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