Ghost Guardian

Chapter 4

"It tastes like sludge," this girl said beside me, tasting a sip of her boyfriend's coffee. Her nose was wrinkled in distaste.

"Yes, but it's caffeinated sludge," he replied, "Best kind of sludge you can get. Alexa, just because you like the most sugar-filled drink on the Starbucks menu doesn't mean everyone does."  The girl kicked the guy hard in the shins.

"God, Dex!" she said, also smacking the guy in the shoulder. I felt bad for the poor guy. "I told you to stop calling me that! I'm not some unholy, creepy virtual assistant! I told you to call me Alex."

"But Alexa is your name," he said, smiling, teasing her. He might just possibly be her brother by the amount of aggravation that was rolling off of her. I've learned from experience that only siblings can annoy you that bad.

"And your name is Dexter!" she said, "But no one calls you that."

"Because Dexter is just horrendous," he said, "At least Alexa is a name that Amazon approves of."

"At least Dexter is a name that Cartoon Network approves of," she mocked. Dexter gasped and held his hand on his chest.

"Dexter's Laboratory was a loved show," he said with fake hurt, "At least I'm loved."

"B-"

"Excuse me?" I butted in, tired of their bickering. No one in Joe's Coffee shop wanted to hear that ruckus at this early in the morning. The two looked right at me as I got their attention, watching and waiting for me to say something. "Could you shut up?"

Oh no, was that too harsh?

The girl gained an angry expression, as if she was going to unleash her temper on my rude statement. However, the boy, who seemed much more reserved, smiled a playful, boyish smile at me.

Okay...I like that smile. I haven't had a hookup in a while, but something about this guy just screamed player. And after a while of having no sex, I was craving some. Maybe...Maybe I could score a night with this guy...

What the hell am I thinking?

"Sorry, man," the guy said, with full-on dimples to go with it, "I'll keep that in mind when I'm talking to my sister." He winked and then turned around, now talking quietly with the girl beside him.

Every so often she would shoot a nasty look at me from the corner of her eye. The guy however...he didn't even glance at me again.

So much for hooking up.

I sighed in disappointment, feeling extra lonely. Sometimes it felt nice to be alone, but today was not one of those days. I felt the need for affection, the need for someone to talk to...someone that wouldn't run away or undress me with their eyes. 

Suck it up, I thought to myself, It's your fault you're alone in the first place.

I got on my phone and started fiddling with it in boredom, and then suddenly I was hovering my finger over my mom's contact. I thought about calling her- for a split second- before turning my phone off and placing it face down on the table. I couldn't call her. Not now. What would I say? I wouldn't know after three years of silence.

I then wondered if I should call my sister, but she was probably touring New York with her boyfriend at the moment. She probably didn't want her annoying, distant brother calling her up for a chat. In my opinion, the chat we had yesterday didn't end on a very happy note, and I didn't want to risk another lecture. 

So I sat there, with my black-as-my-soul coffee, sipping the hot liquid carefully, taking in everything. Once you're alone for a certain period of time, you start to notice things nobody really notices. Like how there was a hummingbird sipping nectar from the flower boxes outside, but everyone was moving too quick to notice it's fast-moving wings and bright colors. There was a young woman sitting in the corner. She came here every day, I noticed. She always brought her sketch pad and watercolors, always stacked her paint brushes from tallest to shortest, always sat with her legs crossed and her wild hair in a tight, but messy bun. That day there was also an older, grumpier man with a balding head and orange juice residue collecting in his grey mustache. And, of course, there were the two talkative siblings, who looked as if they were finishing up and, shortly after, left the shop.