"Oh, I didn't order this"
"It's from that guy over there"
☕☕☕
One blueberry milkshake, a stranger sitting next to her, a cheerful waitress. The play begins.
Wott, the coffee shop close to Avery's school, is the stage for the act she plays, again and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm a fashion icon, for real.
I know I already said that previously, and I wasn't lying, seriously. I have great taste. It's an undeniable fact.
So, where am I going with this? You may ask.
I just wanted to say that I look great right now. That any guy or girl would love to get a girl like me and that's exactly what I'm going to show him today.
Inside WOTT, my eyes scan the counter and then every table, but I don't see him anywhere.
Instead of sitting by the counter, as usual, I walk towards the line forming at the right end of the bar. There are two people in front of me and the first one is already leaving, so he better get here right now so I can show him I'm great without him, better than great, actually.
Am I being dramatic? Probably. Am I being petty? Definitely. Do I care? Not the slightest.
The line disappears in a matter of minutes and it's my turn to order.
Why is he not here yet? Is he not coming? Could he possibly not come today? Because I saw him with his boyfriend? Seriously?
Well, that's a shame. I won't be able to show him how amazing I look. This just proves that he didn't want me to see his little show of affection yesterday.
I step forward to order, but before I can say a thing, a voice that I recognise in seconds orders for me, "A blueberry milkshake, please. And a latte macchiato."
The girl writes it down and I feel his hand on my back like some sort of possessive gesture.
What the fuck does he think he's doing?
I turn around to tell him to fuck off, but he is paying, so I keep quiet a little longer. What? I told you I was feeling petty today.
When we get off of the line, drinks in hand, he drags me to a booth and I sit down too, just because he was a gentleman and paid for my drink.
"Fuck off!" I say, and he has the courage to smile. How dare he?
"Are you mad?"
Mad? I'm extremely hurt, that's what I am. I thought we had something!
I shrug. "Why would I be mad? Is there a reason for me to be mad?"
He takes a sip of his drink without breaking eye contact and then says, "According to your previous statement and this defensive behaviour, there must be."
I grip the plastic cup tighter. "My defensive behaviour? Are you a shrink now?"
He rolls his eyes and leans back in his seat. It was clear he didn't enjoy the way I was talking to him, but I didn't enjoy seeing him kissing other people, so there's that.
