Zugzwang [COMPLETED]

Part I, chapter 3

- III -

The trip to Starbucks turned out to be actually okay. He didn't speed much, and this time, he didn't slam on his brakes for no apparent reason. We were standing by the counter and I was about to order my usual cup of black coffee, when he started ordering his drink. I sighed. Okay, he is rude, that's fine. I am rude also, so I guess it just evens things out.

"What do you want?" he glanced at me.

"I'll get my own coffee," I said without bothering with 'Thanks.'

He snorted and looked at the girl behind the counter.

"And a cup of coffee," he said.

I pulled off my sunglasses and squinted my eyes at him.

"Are you deaf?" I demanded.

"Cream or sugar?" the girl asked indifferently, and he glanced at me.

"Cream? Sugar?"

"I said..."

"Nah," he ignored me and looked at the barista girl again. "She likes it bitter."

"Okay," the barista shrugged and rang him up.

I put my sunglasses back on, feeling strangely entertained and irritated at the same time. The idiot driver grabbed both drinks and handed me my coffee. I took it silently and headed towards the chair when he pushed me towards the front door.

"Outside," he laughed. "The weather is nice and they don't allow smoking inside."

I rolled my eyes, but followed him outside without saying anything. We sat by the little round table, and he immediately lit a cigarette. I was expecting him to offer me one, and I had a great icy comeback dancing on the tip of my tongue, when he just threw the pack and the lighter on the table without asking me anything. Huh, okay, I have to give it to him, he is somewhat different. He narrowed his eyes from the blue cloud of smoke that was rising above his head and asked me:

"So, how come you don't wear your hair up?"

I looked at him thoughtfully. I did not expect that question. Usually, it was something like, "How come you are all alone?" or "How come you are so rude?" Nobody ever asked me why I didn't wear my hair up.

"Because I like it this way," I said indifferently and sipped my coffee.

"Try wearing it up sometimes," he grinned. "It'll look good on you."

"Uh huh," I said. "Are you gay or something? I mean, the hair advice and all..."

"Nope," he said casually, as if he was asked that question a million times before. "Not gay. I just always notice people's hair. I have a thing for hair," he grinned.

"Charming," I said sarcastically.

"So, what are your top five priorities on the list?"

I blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the top five of the most important things in your life."

Good Lord. What happened to 'favorite book,' 'favorite movie,' or stuff like that? Nobody asked me this question before either. To be honest, I never thought about it.

"Well..." I was really tempted to say, 'What are yours?' but then I figured it would be too predictable. "I guess number one would be..."

"Start with number five," he interrupted me. "The least important."