The Book of Imagines: The Mindless Volume

9 | Starbucks (Prodigy)

Personal imagine for Sammi! I hope you enjoy!

*

Damnit, you cursed vulgarly in your head, as the view of what seemed like a never-ending line of people paraded the compact area. Though the new hut only opened last Thursday, it seemed as if everyone in the city had decided to wake up at 7 and grab some coffee... on a beating Monday morning.

"Fuck," you mumbled, as you realized that in the next twenty minutes, you'd be considered tardy for school. Although this would mean another trip to the office, a part of you didn't mind being late -- I mean, who would want to listen to that bitch Mikayla attempt to sing the National Anthem? Every one knew she sung in an off-key manner; but nobody would step up to the plate and take her spot, considering she is captain of the cheerleading team and the principal's daughter.

But you knew that deep, deep down inside, you had to arrive at school before 7:30 and walk up that creepy set of stairs before homeroom officially started. You had about nine too many absences (majority of them being that you ditched), and your mom was on the verge of debating whether to drop you off or not. Although it would save you time from walking, there was no way that a junior of Oakman High would be seen being dropped off by their mother. That was just the regulations of a good reputation.

However, despite the fact that you were being threatened by your own mom, you just can't function without a daily sip of a frappuccino. You needed to have one every morning; it was almost as necessary as studying for finals. Since it is the Monday morning off a three-day weekend, you were slightly worried on how you'd survive first period Calculus, second period AP Spanish, and third period World Theology. You hated all of those classes with a passion, and the fact that administration put those classes before your first break mentally killed you. But, then again, you hated all your classes (and school!) in general.

Before you knew it, you were next to order. Either the man ringing the cashregister was on his game, or you had been mentally ranting on and on about how horrible school was that time passed by quickly. Whatever the situation was, you were beaming because you still had another 14 minutes.

As you walked up to the register, you took out your iPhone and began texting your best friend, Tiffany. You heard the male worker ask, "What can I get for you?"

Without any eye contact with him, you said, "Gimme a mocha venti frap with three pumps regular chocolate and one pump white chocolate. I'd also like chocolate whipcream, oreo toppings, and caramel walls on it."

You knew that the silence shared between you and the worker happened due to the time he used to write your order on the cup. In the conversation with Tiffany, she was asking -- and stressing -- where you were. You said that you were at the Starbucks by the school, and asked if she wanted anything. Immediately, she replied, "A caramel frap w/ 3 pumps white choc? & 2 tiramisu cake pops?? Thx sexxxy bitchachos! ;*"

"Wait," you said, cutting the man off before he could tell you the amount owed. "Could I also have a venti caramel frap with 3 pumps of white choclate?" 

You heard a deep chuckle. "Damn," he said under his breath, but loud enough for you to hear.

How a damn worker gon' judge me and my food? Does that nigga finna get paid, you thought, a tad enraged. Before you could say something in defense, you looked up, and noticed that the "man" was actually a collage student. An attractive college student at that. He was a buff African American with a blonde mohawk, gauged ears, and perfect white teeth. He also had the shiniest brown eyes you have ever encountered in your whole seventeen years of living.

It seemed as if both of you had locked eyes for quite a while, or at least that's how it felt. The whole "damn" incident seemed to pass your mind, as the only thing you paid attention to was how gorgeous the boy right in front of you really was.

"Is that all?" His voice interrupted your train of thought. You noticed how masculin and sexual his voice sounded.

You smiled. "As well as two tiramisu cake pops?"

Both of you chuckled. "You really wanna stay up in school, huh babe?"

It was like your entire world stopped when the word "babe" coming from his mouth processed through your mind. Every thing about him was completely mesmerizing. He was so good looking, that you were wondering how the women in front of you were able to pass by him without being googly-eyed.

"Shut up..." You looked at his name tag. "Craig?"

"Just call me Prodigy, baby," he smiled, handing the bag of tiramisu cake pops over to you. As your hands touched, a spark sent through your nerves. Both of you jumped at the feeling, and that's when it was made clear that both of you had felt it. You knew he had, because Prodigy was mildly blushing at the feeling.

You smiled. "Will do, Prodigy."

The nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. You enjoyed saying his name, simply because it fitted him. Physically, there was no doubt in mind that he wasn't a "prodigy".

"Your's?" He asked.

You smirked. "Sammi."

"Cute name for a cute girl," Prodigy complimented, biting his lower lip in the process. Your cheeks immediately turned a bright red color.

"So, tell me," he continued, writing down your second order on the second cup. "Why this many ventis? Does school suck that bad?"

"The second one is for my friend. But yeah, I'd probably need another venti to keep myself up in Calculus."

Prodigy groaned. "Calculus!! Man, I remember taking that! I failed."

Your jar dropped, as giggles aroused your mouth. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah!" he replied. "Fuck Newton for coming up with that Calc shit. What are you getting?"

"B plus," you said. You weren't lying too. Although you hated school with a passion, balncing courses was never a problem for you.

"Ahh, so you a smart chick," he smiled. "You know, I always found intelligent women fucking sexy, Sammi."

As if déjà vu, you felt your cheeks turn a bright crimson for the second time today. His compliments highly impressed you, since you were a tough chick and never fell for a man easily. But before you could make a slick compliment back, the customers in line began fussing about how you were taking "so long" to order. Prod immediately excused you, as you reluctantly left the cashregister to retrieve your awaiting drinks. 

While waiting, you started realizing that you hadn't even paid Prodigy. You hadn't even given your name to him for the drinks. With that in mind, you brought yourself back to reality and stared at the clock hooked on the wall. 7:26 A.M. Shit.

"I have a venti mocha and white chocolate frap? As well as a venti caramel and white chocolate frap!?" yelled a female barista.

Quickly, you rushed over to the counter and retrieved your drinks. You thanked the barista before running on what seemed like 80 miles per hour on your way to school. The only thought on your mind was that you were highly grateful school was right around the corner.

"What took you so long?" Tiffany asked, handing your last aced Calculus quiz to you. In exchange, you gave her her fix and bag of cake pops.

God was definitely on your side, because you arrived just in time before you would receive a tardy slip. It shocked you because you hated any type of movement, especially running.

"I have so much to tell you," you half whispered, in hopes that Mr. Wilks wouldn't hear your conversation. "One of the baristas at Starbucks was fucking gorgeous."

Tiffany chuckled. "I guess he thinks you're gorgeous, too." She pointed to your unsipped frappuccino. Confused, you picked it up, and noticed some fairly large writing on it.

To the most gorgeous and intelligent woman I saw today. Drinks are on me; thanks for making my day a bit brighter. Have fun in school, baby.

- Prodigy ♥