the whole staff at the center whatever poison that was their favorite beverage.
I was running late. Professor Hubris back there thought that he held our literal futures in his sweaty little hands and it was his duty to teach more than what was lined out in the syllabus.
Like maybe, how to make someone late for work? It didn't matter that my dad owned the company. That actually made me want to be on time even more, so no one could say that I was just there because my father let me be. I wanted to be a good worker, have ethics and values that people could see on me like a Girl Scout badge.
I wanted to earn what I had, not have things handed to me.
So when I ran into the shop and saw Paul at the counter with a carton of coffee cups, I mouthed a 'Thank you' to him. I got the same exact thing every Friday. One white hot chocolate, one black, one vanilla cappuccino with cream and sugar, and for me, a salted caramel iced coffee. There was a long line today, so I waited in it, pulling out my cell to check messages quickly.
A napkin floated to the floor beside me and I reached absentmindedly to pick it up when someone was next to me doing the same thing. Our fingers almost touched on the napkin and my eyes lifted to see dark ones meeting mine. I felt my lips part, not just at his closeness, but at the sheer force of that gaze.
His hair was black and spiked up in the middle in a small faux-hawk. He was tan with a red t-shirt that hugged his neck.
"Thanks," he muttered, his voice as low as gravel. I had to admit that it made me smile for no other reason than the fact that he hadn't taken his eyes off mine yet. He finally, slowly stood.
"No problem," I replied and cleared my throat a little because my voice sounded entirely too affected.
I didn't know what else to say and he just stared, his eyes wandering around my face, before he finally smiled with just one side of his mouth and chuckled a little. "Sorry…you're just really…" He shook his head and stepped back. "Never mind. You go to school here?"
"Yeah. You?"
"Nah," he said, noncommittally. "Just getting some coffee. It was pretty good timing, I guess."
"What was?" I asked, shouldering my bag, refusing to let him go until it was no longer polite to keep him talking.
"Coming here at the same time as you." His smile spoke volumes of things he was thinking that I wasn't privy to. It reminded me of a romance novel…of my parents. I felt a stutter in my chest at what that could mean. "I'm usually here a lot later, but I was early today."
"You're early and I'm late," I said, chagrined that I had forgotten my purpose so easily. I looked over to the counter to see Paul staring an irritated yet intrigued look at my back. I knew he had a little crush on me, but there was no point in pursuing that.
I turned back to dark eyes. He whispered like it was a curse, "Am I keeping you? Do you need to go?"
I stepped off the plank, one hopeful foot in front of the other. "Do you feel that?"
He frowned with his brows, but smiled. "Feel what exactly?"
My spirits fell as fast as they had risen. This was just some college boy checking out girls in the coffee shop. He wasn't Virtuoso, he wasn't a human so intrigued by what was happening to him to press further, and he wasn't someone…that I could go any further with.
I smiled as much as I could, but stepped back. "I really do have to go. I’m sorry. I'm really late."
His smile fell and he took a step