The Student Therapist

Chapter 19

I would say walking up in my own bed was the most jarring realization I had as my eyes opened, but I'd be wrong. That was the memore of the kiss... or the lack of the kiss.. with Lisa. The realization made me groan into my pillows as I already began dreading the moment I walked downstairs to see her.

I lift my head and check the clock beside my bed to see it was still in the earlier hours of the morning in comparison to when I usually get out of bed at school. Eventually, I roll out of bed and tiptoe out of my room. I past my mom's bedroom door to see her sleeping peacefully, although still clad in her uniform.

I glanced at the closed door that held Lisa on the other side and felt my heart flip over itself before making a beeline downstairs. As I walk towards the kitchen, I pick up stray pieces of trash and things that aren't in their proper place, deciding before consciously making the decision that I would tidy up before my kom wake up.

As my coffee brews, I continue pick up around the kitchen trying not to feel so embarrassed that Lisa was seeing my house in its current state. I was surprised she didn't go running for the hills when she stepped foot inside. Her actual reaction flashes in my mind momentarily, reminding me of her cool demeanor.

I spent thirty minutes cleaning up before taking a break on the kitchen counter, letting my bare legs dangle off the edge. The tip of my socks barely scuffing the ground, as my hands wrap around the coffee mug to absorb any warmth its willing to offer.

"Morning." A pretty voice greets, and I switch my gaze to my lowering cup of coffee to see Lisa stroll in.

Shirtless. She's wearing a sports bra. With bedhead. And sweats that hung dangerously low on her hips.

I avert my gaze immediately so that I don't stare. Or, stare any more than I initialy had.

"Good morning." I mumble as I stick my nose back in my mug.

From my peripheral vision, I watch her lift a hand to drag over her face. "Is there any more coffee?"

"In the pot." I answer quietly and then I want to cringe when I can barely decipher my own whisper.

It was like I wasn't sure how to function near her after what happened.. or didn't happen.. last night. Inwas dumbfounded for a moment as I realize that I somehow went from being able to openly scream at her or admit to her face how much I dislike her, to aggressively avoiding eye contact and practically whispering.

I'm grateful when she just continues to move behind me and exits my peripheral vision. I hear shuffling from behind me before the satisfying sound of coffee pouring, and a moment later.. she appears in front of me with the pot in her hand.

"You want any more?" She offers, her light eyes practically glowing despite how tired she looked.

I slowly extend my cup towards her so she can fill it up. But I have to fixate my gaze on the coffee so I don't look at her, her stupid eyes, or her annoyingly perfect chiseled features. It was a good thinf I was staring, because Lisa got dangerously close to the top before spilling over and pouring coffee on the ground.

I jerk the cup away and successfully spill hot coffee on my bare legs from the movement. The sizzling sensation makes me gasp and bit down hard on my tongue to keep myself from muttering every curse word I've ever heard.

"What the hell, Lisa?" I can't help but snap as I rub the burned part of my leg.

Her wide eyes sre innocent and concerned as she sets the pot down on the counter beside me. "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." She mumbles quickly shaking her head. "Can I get you something?"

"Maybe a paper towel?" I suggest with a quirked eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the coffee all over my leg and the ground.

She hurries to grab the necessary rosources to solve the coffee issue and I let out a deep breath, trying to ignore the minor stinging coming from the burnt spot. She returns and hands me a paper towel before bending down and mopping up the floor silently.