| 02 |

~ Banks Woods ~

Caleb and I enter our apartment which basically looks like a single room, with the kitchen in the living room and two doors. One door leads to the bathroom and the other leads to a tiny bedroom that I let Caleb have because he pleaded a lot.

It might've also been because the older sister in me wanted to give Caleb everything and tried to make him as happy as possible living with me.

Since Caleb was born, I couldn't resist doing everything for him. Mom and Dad were shitty at being parents. Me and Caleb were a huge surprise for them. The kind of surprise that you have to act surprised about while internally grimacing and wishing that you bought a condom.

They were good people. Just not good parents.

Caleb toes off his shoes, leaving them in a haphazard mess on the floor before I yank him back by his ear.

He scowls at me, then puts his shoes properly in the corner.

I put the groceries in their place, stretching my back as I do so. A tiny groan leaves my mouth when I hear my back creak. "I'm getting old."

"Get to bed early then, Grandma." Caleb flops down on the couch which is my bed at night. He picks up the TV remote. The TV looks like it could belong to my actual grandma when her mother was still pregnant.

"Will you make me soup?" I put the milk in the fridge.

"Your teeth are already falling out?"

"Sadly, yes. Two popped out last night. There was some blood too."

He looks at me with a grimace.

I grin, putting the canned food on the shelves.

"Don't you have homework?" I flop down beside him, putting one leg on his lap.

"Don't you have a job?" He pushes my leg off.

"Don't remind me." I groan and close my eyes, laying my head back on the couch.

Working in a café when you absolutely despise coffee is the worst thing. I still don't get how people chug coffee down when just the smell of it makes me gag.

My boss, Kaylee, already tried making me drink thirty different types of coffee. Her scowl is etched in my memory by how much she's given me that face whenever I gagged after tasting her coffee.

Caleb calls me the Shame of This Generation.

There are no other jobs available and even if they are, they don't pay decently. So I'm stuck gagging and wincing for ten hours, six days a week. Yay, my life.

It doesn't entirely suck major balls. Half the money I earn goes into Caleb's savings account for when he goes to college. The rest is needed for groceries and electricity bills. It's a pretty decent life.

"Imagine having Lance's car," Caleb says.

My mood dampens immediately. "Mhmm."

"It would be so cool." He smiles at me.

I nod, looking away.

The thing about raising a kid all by yourself is that he goes out into the world with wonder and wants. He looks at other people's things and then starts wishing. While most kids get all their wishes fulfilled, some kids don't.

"You nearly killed us."

"Hey, I drove pretty good." I push his shoulder.

"Lance screamed."

"He was having a moment."

"Yeah, between life and death."

I push his shoulder again. "He shouldn't have forced me to drive."

"You couldn't tell him that you didn't have a license?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You were also the one who was so eager to be such a goodie because poor him was injured."

He turns away from me. "I forgot you couldn't drive."

"Punishment for your forgetfulness then. A life-threatening car ride."

"Lance was pretty cool," he says.

"Because of his car?"

"That too. Do you think we'll see him again?"

I try hiding my distressed expression.

This is what I've been worried about. Kids like Caleb who wish for things don't get it because they only have a plain old sister who can't even provide for herself.

"I hope we don't." I smooth a crease on my sweatpants.

"Because you're embarrassed?"

I furrow my eyebrows. "Embarrassed about what?"

"For punching him."

"Why would I be embarrassed?"

"Uh, because you assaulted a completely innocent person based on a misunderstanding?"

I give him a side-eye.

"Fine. Not embarrassed." He looks away from me.

I really am not embarrassed. I think life's too short and useless to be embarrassed about small things like breaking a stranger's nose because I thought he was going to harass me. Yup. Totally not embarrassed.

I didn't even know I had it in me to break someone's anything.

Feeling pissed off suddenly for no reason, I reach for Caleb's ear.

He yelps. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. What did I do now?"

"What were you thinking meddling into other people's business like that?" I glare.

"Who?"

"Lance and the toothpick guy."

"I was just trying to help."

"Help people when you know you can come out of it alive. The toothpick guy would've crushed you."

"Lance was about to fight the guy before you interrupted."

"If Lance could fight then why did you intervene?"

He doesn't answer me.

It's the same thing. For the past few months, it's either getting into trouble or fights. I don't understand why he suddenly started this new hobby. If he wanted to pick fights, I would've gladly slapped him a few times to fulfill his wish.

I know I'm not a very open person to talk about feelings and that kind of thing, but I'm always here for Caleb. We tell each other everything. I know all his friends. Which is none. His common dream. Which is driving a sausage-shaped car into the sea. His favourite body part. His left pinkie toe.

I don't know. He says he finds it cute.

The point is that we know everything about each other because, in truth, everyone around us failed to stay. Mom and Dad couldn't handle us. Our Aunt, who adopted us, hated us. The friends we made bullied us. So in the end, no matter what, it's always Caleb and me. We're each other's best friends even if we haven't said it out loud.

"Can you stop abusing my ear now?" He swats my hand.

I let go with a glare. "Don't put yourself into trouble next time."

"I won't." He mumbles, looking back at the TV. "By the way, do you remember Shit? That stupid cat?"

Instantly, my nose crinkles. "Yeah. Why?"

The sneaky bitch would come under our feet out of nowhere and me and Caleb would go 'Shit' all the time after accidentally stepping on her. Hence, the name.

"My teacher got the exact same cat and I swear to God, I feel like Shit rebirthed and came to school just to haunt me."

"That's definitely something she would do."

Since she was our aunt's cat, the little ugly fur hated me and Caleb too. We clicked glasses filled with chocolate milk to the brim when she died.

"The cat gives me the creeps. Banks, swear to me right now and right here." He turns to face me. "We're gonna be Dog people."

I nod. "I thought we already were."

He spits in his hand and holds it out to me. "Seal the Deal?"

I scrunch my face at the large amount of saliva disgustingly coming close to dripping down his hand.

"Ew. That's gross."

And because the jackass already knew I'd find it disgusting, he grins widely. Then jumps on top of me to wipe his hand on my face.

●・○・●・○・●

"Do you think my head is too big?"

I turn my focus away from the cups I'm washing and glance at Kaylee. "What?"

"The guy I was fucking said I have a larger head than most females."

I frown as I take in her fairly normal head covered with dark curls tamed into beautiful braids with purple beads. Her dark eyes, that look stunning with her dark skin, shows no signs that she's joking.

"He said that?" I question.

She nods, pouting her plump lips. "Ruined my orgasm right at the last second."

"Yikes."

"I know, right? So do I?"

"Do you what?"

"Have a large head, bitch."

"You have a normal-sized head."

She tosses her braids behind her shoulder as if saying 'Ha! Knew it' "He might've just been hurt that he came before me."

"Seems about right. What did you do then?"

"I left and finished off by myself at home."

I've been working under Kaylee for about three years now. It's around the time she opened this cafe too. Even though she's my boss, she's probably the only person outside who's like a friend.

She opened this cafe right after getting her degree and flipped the bird on her family when they told her that she had too much estrogen to go outside and work. I wish I could have continued with my studies too and gotten a degree.

But if I'm studying then who's going to work ten hours a day and earn money enough to provide for two people?

Nobody. So here I am.

I've stopped complaining about it a long time ago. I'm happy as long as Caleb gets the life that I never had.

"What about you?" Kaylee's question brings me out of my daily dose of self-loathing.

I raise my eyebrows, picking up a rag to dry the cups. "What about what?"

"Is that vagina still competing with a nun's?"

"Pretty much." I nod.

She tsks. "How long has it been?"

I wince. "I'd rather not—"

"I know it's been tough since the breakup, but you can't go on like this."

"I told you, I'm over it. I just don't want to have sex."

Worry flashes across her face. "Like ever? I was just joking about being a nun. You really want to live a life of maidenhood? You haven't even tried this new sex position I found online that has the man with his feet—"

"I'm not going to be a nun." I cut her off before she lets the all customers in the café get some very explicit information.

"Phew." She breathes out a sigh of relief. "Are you considering being a lesbian then?"

"It doesn't work like that." I sigh.

"If you are then I have this friend who's single—"

"Thank you, Kaylee." I cut her off. "I'll let you know if I wake up one morning and suddenly decide I'm into women."

Sensing my sarcasm, she scowls at me. "Ungrateful bitch."

"Maybe I'll start having a crush on you." I smile.

"As you should." She raises her chin. "I mean look at me." I look at her thick waist that swells into curvy hips with large thighs that could happily suffocate a man. My boss is sexy as hell and she knows it.

The bell above the café's door chimes, indicating that a customer has entered. Turning around, I plaster a smile on my face that says 'I really don't wanna smile but since I'm getting paid, I have to'.

I'm still smiling when I realize who's walking over to me. The cup in my hand nearly drops as my entire body freezes.

"Shit."

"What?" Kaylee questions.

For a moment, I'm unable to move when that charming smile and blue eyes fill my vision. I gesture with my head towards the person who's looking around the cafe.

Kaylee scrunches her eyebrows as she looks. "Ex?"

"No."

"Your secret young dad?"

"No."

"A married professor you had an affair with?"

"I wish. You see the band-aid on his nose?"

"Yeah."

"I did that. I broke his nose."

Her eyes widen. She looks at my bony hands that can barely lift a chair then looks back at the hunk of a man.

"Bitch, don't think so highly of yourself." She scowls.

"I'm serious."

"You really did that?"

I nod.

"Damn." She blinks twice. "I'm impressed."

Somehow the entire room shifts in Lance's direction the further he walks in. He's gaining everyone's attention and they're happily giving it to him. His large, muscled body moves so gracefully, and that smile on his face could probably cure depression.

Kaylee doesn't hide her approval as she openly ogles him.

"Please take his order," I beg her.

"You don't need to tell me twice." She waves me behind her as she walks up to the register the same moment Lance does. "Thanks for blessing my eyes. What can I get you for today?"

He grins at her. "A cold caramel mocha. How are you today?"

"A cold caramel mocha." Kaylee punches the order into the computer. "I'm doing so well now that you're here. I wish there were more people like you."

Lance laughs and even his laugh sounds so bright.

The band-aid on his nose doesn't degrade his attractiveness at all. I still can't believe I did that to him.

Why is he here?

I've been working here for three years, and I can confirm I've never seen him here before. Did he stalk me to take revenge for breaking his nose and driving his car without a license?

I bet he'd do that smiling like the Prince Charming he is.

"I'll make sure to hunt for customers like me to keep making your day."

"See, this is why I knew you were going to be my favourite customer." Kaylee leans her hips against the counter. "I'd appreciate it if you came in next time with a ring."

He laughs again. It's not the small, polite kind of laugh. It's a laugh that's loud and cute and puts every other laugh to shame.

It captures my full attention and I'm glad I'm not the only one. A few other girls in the café whisper to each other, pointedly staring at him.

"I'll make sure to propose you with a flash mob." He grins.

Kaylee nods, smiling widely. "One caramel mocha coming right up. That'll be four dollars twenty-five cents."

When Lance leaves to find a table, Kaylee spins around with a glare on her face. "You better give me a good reason as to why you punched his perfectly adorable sexy face."

"It was an accident," I mutter. "I thought he was going to harass me, and my instinct kicked in."

"Oh. That's good then. Keep punching."

I get to making his mocha, trying my best to professionally drizzle caramel on top of the whipped cream. It never works for me though. I wanted to make it look like a swirl but instead, it looks like a scribbled drawing of a grade two kid.

Still doing a decent job, I carry the tray to Kaylee.

"I have five drinks to make. Could you give that to him yourself?"

I stop short. "What?"

She gestures to the five cups in front of her. "Busy."

My eyes widen. "You want me to hand Lance his drink?"

"Lance?" She scrunches her eyebrows in confusion.

"The guy you were flirting with."

She blinks. "Which...one was it—"

"The one I punched." I blow out a breath.

"Oh. Him! Right. Well, yes. I'm not risking ruining my perfectly made solar system design by the likes of you. So yes, hand him that drink." A twinkle enters her eyes.

I glare. "You're doing this purposefully."

She feigns innocence. "Why, pray would you say that?"

I glare harder.

"Don't give me and my Jupiter that look." She waves her hand at me. "Hand him that drink."

"Did I mention how much I wish I snuck pineapples on your pizza?"

She gasps. "You're fired!"

"You can't fire me." I scoff.

"I run this place and if you threaten my whole existence like that and offend my perfectly articulate taste then you're fired."

I grumble under my breath, before carrying the tray to Lance's table. He has his phone out in front of him with one hand curled over his chin in concentration.

Maybe he won't remember me. I did break his nose last night, so he had exactly seventeen hours and forty-two minutes to forget about me. He might've even thought he imagined the whole thing and broke his nose in his sleep when he accidentally rolled off the bed.

"Aren't you the one who broke my nose?"

I stop short. "No."

He grins and I force myself not to focus on how perfectly his teeth align. Is there nothing ugly about this guy?

"Small world, isn't it? Do you work here?"

"No, I'm just hanging around, planning on how to bomb this place because of how much I despise coffee." I set his mocha down on the table.

He chuckles. "Good thing I got a taste of this place before it goes ka-boom."

"Enjoy your drink." I give him a nod, then turn around to leave.

"Wait."

My eyes fall shut with an internal groan. I guess I can't really avoid him. Taking a deep breath, I turn back around and raise an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

His eyes meet mine and I think I'm imagining it, but for a second his whole face blanks out as he takes me in. His lips part open and he doesn't release a breath.

He darts his gaze away, clearing his throat.

I frown at him.

"Um, sorry. You just look so pretty. It caught me off-guard."

What?

For a moment, I lose the ability to speak as my mouth hangs open.

Did he...did he just call me pretty?

I look down at my old stained brown apron under which I'm wearing plain black clothes. My hair is in a low ponytail because I was too lazy to put it in a bun this morning. My shoes have holes in them and are on the verge of falling apart.

I look back up at Lance and give him a look that says, 'Are you okay? Do you need your eyes checked?'

When I don't reply, he clears his throat again. "I just wanted to ask how Caleb was."

"Good. He's at school right now."

"Oh. Are you studying too?"

"No." My face twists with unhappiness. The longing in me always intensifies when someone asks me about college.

"Why not?"

I shrug, keeping my tone flat. "Don't have the time and money."

His mouth forms an 'O'. He nods, giving me another smile. Why does he smile so much?

"Well, thanks for the moch—oh is this a Van Gogh painting?"

I glance at my scribbled mess of caramel on top of the whipped cream. Van Gogh?

Blinking, I look back at him. "Yes."

"Looks good. Is it supposed to be a lake?"

"Uh. Yeah."

"Wait, I think it's an animal. Did Van Gogh ever paint an animal?"

I swear to God, if he were Caleb, I bet he's internally making fun of me.

"It's a mix."

"Awesome."

"I'll leave you to your drink now."

Before he can say anything else, I quickly step away.

●・○・●・○・●

An irritable sigh escapes my lips.

Something else that I absolutely hate after coffee is people who drink coffee. More specifically, people who order coffee, and forget what type of coffee they ordered.

"I asked for a Spiced Latte."

"No, sir. You asked for a Spanish Latte."

"I'm pretty sure I asked for a Spiced one."

"I'm pretty sure you asked for a Spanish one."

"So are you saying your customers are wrong?"

My fingers twitch. I'm this close to wrapping them around his thick neck.

I hate when people use the 'customers are never wrong' rule in an argument. It's the equivalent of running to your mom when fighting with your siblings.

I blow out a patient breath through my nose. "I didn't say that, sir."

"Good." The fifty-year-old man nods. "Now make me my Spiced latte."

"How about a drizzle of poison to go with that?" I mutter.

"What did you say?"

"How about a drizzle of vanilla to go with that?"

"No."

I nod, before turning around and heading towards the coffee machine. Once my face is hidden from other customers, I let my scowl slip out.

'Now make my Spiced Latte'.

Oh, I'll make you a Spiced Latte. I'll make you such an amazing Spiced Latte, you'll be meeting God the next minute to tell him about it.

I never get how some customers think being rude to workers is absolutely alright. The first time a customer was rude to me, she got a handful of wonderful words from my mouth that made her clutch the cross around her neck.

After that, Kaylee took me inside saying, 'As humans who are aggressive by nature, we have the full right to attack a person when they attack us first...just not when we're at work and they pay us.'

I imagine the milk I'm pouring into the latte is actually years-old semen. I don't bother making his drink look pretty at all, as I pour the cream. I have other better customers to make Van Gogh paintings on.

Doing my half-decent, half-worst job on the Ass's coffee, I carry the tray to his table.

He scrutinizes the cup, as I place it down.

"What is this?" He frowns up at me.

"Your Spiced Latte."

"Why is it steaming?"

I blink. "Because it's hot."

"I asked for a cold latte."

I furrow my eyebrows. "No, you didn't."

He nods. "Yes, I did."

"You asked for a cup of hot Spanish latte."

"Spiced Latte."

I resist the urge to snap. "That."

"This is what I get for working hours every day; people who don't even know how to make a cup of fucking coffee right."

If you know so much better than me then please go ahead, let's happily trade jobs.

Instead of speaking my thoughts out loud, I reign it in being the good employee I am, and sigh, "Again. What do you want?"

He gives me an irritated look. "A Cold Spiced Latte."

"A Cold Spiced Latte," I repeat. "That's what you want, right?"

"How many times do I have to repeat myself?" He yells. "Yes! I want a cold fucking Spiced Latte!"

"Okay." Jeez. Tantrum, much? How I would love to bitch-slap this person right about now.

Muttering every curse I know, I make my way back towards the machines.

Returning with a freshly made cold Spiced Latte, I walk back before I notice a hand halfway up in the air. Glancing, I realize that the Lance guy is still there from when I gave him his coffee two hours ago.

Debating whether to give the bald man his stupid Spiced Latte first or check with the guy whose nose I broke, I go for the latter.

He's wearing a dark blue suit with an even darker blue tie. His cufflinks are silver and glint under the fluorescent lights of the café. I can tell he works out because his arms are thick with wide shoulders. Last night, his blonde hair was messy and out of place, but today it's styled neatly as if he just returned from a photoshoot.

"Yes?"

He leans towards me as if whispering a secret. "He definitely said he wanted a Spanish Latte. Hot."

It takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about. "He did!"

He nods. "He's just being an asshole. I heard him talk on the phone saying that he dislikes the idea of young girls working."

I scoff. "That bitch."

Lance grins.

"I mean, that customer whom I'm not supposed to call names during my work hours."

"I'll keep it a secret from your manager." He winks.

I glance at the bald man, who's currently giving me the stink eye for making him wait too long.

"Someone woke up to sour piss in their cereal," I mutter.

"Maybe his wife finally filed for that divorce today," Lance says.

I look at him and he shrugs. "Or maybe his doctor told him that even surgery can't make his dick stand longer."

I resist the urge to crack a smile. At least, this guy gets it.

"He's annoying the fuck—I mean, heck, out of me."

"I get it. You're doing a good job though. Other employees would've just poisoned the coffee by now."

"Oh, you have no idea how many times I stopped myself from reaching for my secret stash."

"I honestly expected you would. You looked like you were about to kill him."

"I hope a brick falls on his big head."

Lance gives me another grin. How is it so easy for him to just smile and grin on command? I have to be in a completely happy mood for my facial muscles to move an inch.

"Let's just get rid of him," I mutter before nodding at Lance and making my way towards the annoying prick.

"Here you go. One cold spiced latte." I set it down.

He looks at the drink and looks back at me. Looks at the drink again, before looking back at me. His eyes fall shut, and he lets out a huge sigh, leaning back against his seat and rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

He gives me a tired, annoyed face and doesn't say anything.

Now what? I nearly yell.

He doesn't lift his head for a long time. In the end, I decide that the faster I deal with him, the faster he can get the fuck out, so I grit, "Is anything wrong?"

He gives me an irritated side-eye. "Where's the straw?"

"Straw?"

"Am I supposed to damage my lips drinking this cold as fuck drink? Get me a straw!"

The tone of this bitch. I raise my fist—

No. Banks. No. I know you're annoyed but you also get paid, so no. Don't do it. Go home and hit Caleb, it's alright.

I reign in my anger. "Alright."

I hand him his straw.

"Where are the extra packets of sugar?"

"You didn't ask—" I stop and sigh. "Right."

I get his sugar packets.

"Where's the mixing spoon?"

"Right." I turn around to leave but then turn back around. "Before I leave, do you want anything else?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you really sure?"

"Yes!" He yells.

"Fine." I turn around.

"Actually, I might need something else."

A tiny growl slips from my mouth. Forcing my facial expressions to remain as straight and smooth as I can muster, I slowly turn back around, giving him the fakest smile I can manage. "Yes?"

"You."

"What?" My smile drops.

He peers at me, licking his chapped lips, as his eyes rake me up and down. "What do you say?"

I raise an eyebrow as I repeat my question. "What?"

"You know what I'm talking about, girl." A smile creeps over his lips, and at that moment I much prefer his irritated frown. "How about I get your number?"

"How about I crack your bald fucking head?"

"Don't be like that." He gives me a suggestive smile. "I'll pay you double."

I don't say anything. I'm busy thinking of ways to hang this fucking creep's dick by the ceiling and using him as a punching bag.

"So?" He asks.

"Get. The fuck. Out."

"Don't say that." He rolls his eyes. "I know you're desperate for money. Young girls like you always are. It'll be a good time and you're getting paid for it, so why not?"

My eyes are so wide right now. What the fuck did this old mental-disordered shit just say?

"Drink your coffee and fuck off." I turn around to leave.

A meaty, sweaty hand lands on my wrist. Whipping around, I snarl. "Don't you dare fucking touch me." I yank my hand away.

"You don't get it. Once you start, you'll see how easy it is for you to start earning money."

"Don't make me kick you out of this place," I warn. "I will do it and I will do it humiliating the fuck out of you."

He rolls his eyes. "Girls like you are so stubborn nowadays. It's just a one-time thing."

"Death is a one-time thing too," Lance says.

I turn around to see him standing behind me with a glare on his face. How long has he been standing there?

"Who are you?" The man furrows his eyebrows.

"None of your fucking business," Lance says.

He calmly leans a hand on the table, facing the man directly. "Here's how this is going to go. This lady has been nothing but helpful to you, even though you were acting like a bratty child who needs a good spanking on the ass. You take your coffee and leave this place as peacefully as you can. And if you don't..." He leaves the warning in the air.

The man's face turns red. "This is ridiculous! You can't threaten me in a public space. Where's your manager?" He yells at me. "Manager! Manager! I'm being harassed by your employee!"

Kaylee comes rushing out of the back kitchen, a worried frown between her eyebrows. "What? What's going on?"

"Who are you?"

"The manager." She responds. "You called for me?"

"No fucking way. Now I get why this place sucks so much."

"What do you mean?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"Incompetent fools. Go back to where you belong and get me someone who doesn't have a history of stealing and dealing with drugs."

Kaylee's mouth drops open. A few customers nearby gasp, openly gaping.

"Oh, now you've gone too far!" I yell. "Hold my tray. Wait never mind, give me the tray." I snatch it back from Lance and raise it with the full intention of bashing it on the son of a bitch's head.

Before the tray can graze the prick's eyeball though, it's snatched from my hand.

"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa." Lance gives me a wary look, holding the tray behind his back. "Let's do this in a much...non-violent way."

"Give me the tray back." I hold out my hand, glaring at him.

"I can't have you breaking someone else's nose."

"This prick deserves it." I snap.

"This prick also won't hesitate to file a complaint and get you fired if you harm him physically. Not everyone can take a hit so chill like me."

I glare at him but inside, I know he's right.

"So you just want me to let him go?" I question.

"These types of people don't deserve your time."

"He's right, Banks." Kaylee places a hand on my shoulder. "I would love to bash this motherfucker's face too, but he's right."

Said motherfucker glares at Kaylee.

I don't realize my hands are in tight fists until they loosen when she adds, "Think about Caleb."

I direct my glare at her. "I hate when you use his name."

She shrugs. "I don't want my favourite employee to be removed from her job."

"I'm your only employee."

"Same thing."

Both Kaylee and Lance look at me expectantly.

Finally, a sigh comes out of my mouth, dropping my shoulders.

"Good." Kaylee pats my shoulders with a smile. She turns her head towards the prick and her smile instantly drops. "I'm gonna ask you to leave this instant."

"You can't do that." The man bolsters.

"I own this place so I damn well can. You're not allowed in this café from here on."

"This is ridiculous!" The man jumps to his feet, grabbing his cup of coffee. "I can't believe some stupid black girl is pushing me out of a public space. You have no right!"

I raise my fist.

Lance reaches forward and lowers it.

I scowl at him and he shakes his head at me.

"This is absolutely fucking ridiculous!" The asshole shouts while making his way towards the door. "I'll have my colleagues know about this place so they'll never come here!"

"Have a great day!" Kaylee calls out with full enthusiasm.

He flips her off.

I raise my fist again, only to realize it's still caged between Lance's strong fingers.

The door closes after the prick.

"What an asshole," Kaylee mumbles, placing her hands on her hips.

"If I find him anywhere outside work, I'm gonna punch him so hard, his teeth are gonna fall off." I glare.

"He was seriously a jerk." Lance nods with a frown.

"Yeah," I say. "Let go of my hand now."

I snatch it away to which he gives me an apologetic look. Before I can freak out about the fact that he had my hand in his, Kaylee flips around and marches away.

I follow her back to behind the counter.

"You're an amazing boss. Don't listen to that asshole." I assure her.

"I already know that." She violently opens the cash register and aggressively stuffs a couple of dollar bills in.

"You really are."

"I know, Banks. I know."

"You're amazing at what you do."

"I know." She frowns, smashing the keys of a calculator with more force than necessary.

"I love your hair. I love your smile. I love it when you share your different sex positions even though I think they're humanly impossible."

"Banks." She looks up at me from her calculator. "First, you don't have to flatter me like that. I know you're dying inside with self-hatred with every word that comes out of your mouth. You said the word love three times and I know your facial expressions are withering to turn into a grimace."

They so fucking are.

"Also second," She raises an eyebrow. "Those sex positions are humanly possible and they feel amazing. You wouldn't know, you poor virgin sapling."

"I'm not a virgin," I grumble.

"With the way your vagina has been, I find that hard to tell."

I roll my eyes and turn around, only to stop short when I notice Lance standing behind me.

"I didn't hear anything." He gives me a blank stare.

I frown. "Sure."

"I can forget all about it."

"Alright. What do you want?"

"Ouch. After siding with you against that asshole, I thought you'd stop being such a stranger."

I raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing. I just wanted to check how you're feeling after he disrespected you like that."

"I'm feeling fine!" Kaylee says, unnecessarily loudly. "Thanks for asking!"

"She's not fine," I whisper to Lance.

He nods. "I can tell with the way she's harassing the register."

"Just give her a moment. She'll return to her inappropriately informative self in a while."

"Stop talking about me! Here, take this. The window outside needs wiping." She throws a rag in my direction.

While she's currently raging inside, she forgets my height entirely because the rag flies about a foot out of my reach. Before it can reach anywhere though, Lance lifts a hand and catches it effortlessly, handing it to me.

"Thanks," I mutter, making my way outside the café.

The cold weather makes me shiver when I step out into the evening sun. I would go back inside to get my jacket, but Kaylee would snap. Sighing, I get working to clean the already perfectly shining glass pane.

It takes me three seconds to realize a looming presence behind me. I turn around and raise my eyebrows when I see Lance simply standing there with his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

He smiles when he meets my eyes.

"What?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I don't know."

"Why are you just standing there?"

He shrugs again. "I...don't know. It feels wrong for some reason for me to leave."

I frown. "What? There's nothing wrong. You can go back to wherever you came from."

"My office is right about there." I glance to see him pointing toward a dark skyscraper a few buildings down the street. The sight of the tall building is enough to confirm my assumptions about him being crazy rich.

"Okay...?"

"I really liked the coffee by the way. It was good."

A realization dawns upon me. "Are you trying to make small talk?"

He blinks. "Maybe...?"

I hate small talk. They're awkward and unnecessary.

"You don't have to. You can go. Me and Kaylee are fine now. All our other customers are respectful."

"Oh, Okay." He rubs the back of his neck.

He lifts a foot toward the direction he wants to go to but then pauses and glances at me. I give him a blank stare. He nods at me before he starts to walk.

He takes three steps before he pauses again and turns around to face me with a troubled frown. "I can't leave."

"What do you mean?"

"My feet. They don't want to move."

My eyebrows draw in confusion. "What?"

"I don't know. I just want to keep standing here. Near you."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I think I'm attracted to you."

My eyebrows shoot up.

Wow...did he seriously just say that?

Blunt one, isn't he? Normally, if someone else would've said that I would've yelled at him for being a creep, but with him...damn it why is my heart racing?

I take in his chiselled face and pretty eyes and find genuineness in them. I'm so stumped that I'm waiting for him to burst out laughing in my face, and probably slap me.

When he does neither of those, my mouth falls open. "Uh..."

"Sorry, you just look so...pretty."

My face heats up with a blush that I try my best to fight. Irritation sparks in me. I don't need this guy making me blush with his bluntness when I'm trying to stay away from him.

Back when I was young, my parents always found me ugly. Sometimes I was too skinny. Sometimes I put on too much weight. Sometimes my face looked red with acne and pimples. Sometimes my face looked dark and dull. There was always something about me that disturbed my parents.

So when my ex, Ben, called me pretty and wanted me, I used to melt at his feet. His company used to feel so soothing that I ignored all his red flags. Later I realized how toxic our relationship was. I used to let him get away with things just because I didn't want to lose him.

The thing about being majorly insecure is that you start looking for love from others instead of loving yourself. And when people give you that love, you don't hesitate to love them back twice as much because they're giving you something that you've been missing.

Once that realization started seeping into me, I knew I had to act.

But I was too late. The damage was done and now I'll never involve another man in my life again until I make sure Caleb's safe.

"I really need to work right now," I respond, coldly, hardening my gaze.

He clearly senses the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thanks."

He stands there still for a while, not budging even an inch. My cold exterior is cracking the more I stare at his face—that's how I know I really need him to leave.

"You're a violent one, aren't you?" He tilts his head, thoughtfully. "I've met you twice and both times you threw fists." He gestures at his nose. "This still hurts by the way."

"I'm not gonna apologize again for defending myself."

"You didn't apologize right the first time too."

"Hey, I drove you to the hospital."

"Yeah, by almost killing me. You yelled 'Jesus take the fucking wheel' when you went the wrong direction on the round-a-bout."

"If anything happened, we were going to the hospital anyway." I shrug.

"Who'll take care of my cat if something were to happen to me?"

"You have a cat?"

He nods.

"That's it, buddy. Leave." I pretend to put on a face of disgust. "Cat lovers are not to be trusted."

"You're not a cat person?" His eyes widen.

"Fuck no."

"Why didn't you tell me that before I found you attractive?"

I nearly blush again. Damn him. "We've met only twice under oppressive circumstances."

"Let's meet up another time then when we're under normal circumstances."

I pause. "Did...did you just ask me out?"

He nods, giving me a sincere look. "Will you go out with me this Friday?"

My eyebrows shoot up again. Wow, he wasted no time at all, didn't he?

I open my mouth to spew a bunch of curses at him for being so straightforward, but instead, a wince crosses my face.

"Uh...no."

His smile drops. "Why not?"

"I'm not really fit for dating anyone at this time."

"So you will be later on?" His eyes light up with hope.

I shrug. "Who knows?"

Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to rely on him to fix the broken parts of me. He's going to lead me into his box where I'll happily remain trapped. Now and then, he'll throw in some love into the box and being stupidly blind, I'm going to eat it up without any questions.

I hate the box. I absolutely fucking despise it. I've been in it for almost all my life and finally found a way out of it.

It scares me...

My own mind is my biggest enemy that I can't trust at all.

And if I can't trust myself, then I can't trust anyone else.

"Look." I start with a sigh. "You're a nice guy—"

"Uh oh. That doesn't sound good."

"But—"

"I knew it." He mumbles.

"I really don't want to involve others in my life right now."

He watches me in silence as I bite my lower lip.

To my surprise, he nods in understanding, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

"I understand."

A huge weight presses on my chest. My heart thuds violently, screaming at me that I'm making a mistake. I try my best to ignore it.

"Is there any chance we can be friends?" He asks.

"I'm not good with keeping friendships."

"That's alright. I'm really good with that."

There's a hint of stubbornness in his eyes with that genuine look.

It doesn't matter. He's going to get bored pretty soon when he realizes I wasn't kidding at all. Once he does that, it's going to be the same as always. He won't be able to keep up with my busy schedule. My messy life. He'll leave.

Knowing that, I know it won't hurt anyone so I sigh, nodding. "Sure."

"Great!" He holds a hand for me to shake.

Reluctantly, I put my hand in his. Warmth enters my chest as his long and strong fingers wrap around mine. There's something about his handshake too. The tips of my ears start burning and my brain starts making images that it definitely should not be making.

Lance opens his mouth to say something, but a sound from his pocket cuts him off. He slides his phone out and looks at the caller ID.

"Shit. Gotta go. It's my dad. If he asks for proof I'm gonna give this café's number. Please tell him I got carried away with saving a kitten on the roof of this place, that's why I was late." He gives me a pleading look.

"Uh, sure."

"Great! Thanks. See you around, Banks." He gives me another smile and starts speed-walking towards the skyscraper, answering the phone.

I stand there all alone for two seconds, staring after him. My heart still hasn't stopped racing and my skin tingles from the handshake we shared.

Shrugging, I turn back to the window, mumbling. "That just happened."

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

How's this for a start?? I'm so excited to publish the rest of this book. It's going to be a rollercoaster of emotions.

Hopefully, I get this book done by the end of June or mid-July.

Words: 7,000

Date of publishing:  20th May 2023