Stories Of The Past

Chapter 1- Cookie Dough

It's Saturday! Here's the first chapter of my story. Vote if you like it and want the next chapter. Comment your opinions, please.
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They say I'm crazy and a bit mentally unstable, but I know, for sure, I'm not, she thought to herself as she looked in her bathroom mirror. Her eyes looked back at her with uncertainty, as if saying, "Are you sure?"

Covering her right eye, she gazed at her left. The green seemed to fit her. As she dropped her hand from covering her right, she did the same to her left. Her brown eye looked like a better choice. Brown it is, she thought as she picked up a contact that matched the color of her right eye. As she applied the contact with minimal struggle, she felt her stomach growl with need.

Why does mom only make breakfast on Saturdays?

Rushing out of her room, she stormed downstairs where she quickly grabbed her bag near the door and proceeded to head out in search of food. She decided her usual place would be perfect.

The café she always went to on Sundays came into view as she walked closer. Her now brown only eyes flitted across the crowd of people in front. The idea of waiting was killing her more and more by the second. As she turned around to find another place, she heard a faint sound over the voices of the crowd.

"Layla!" she heard.

She turned back around smiling and watched as the cashier from the café jog towards her. "You weren't going to leave were you?" he asked.

"Do you not see the line?" she pointed out.

"You know that lines don't apply to you here. Just walk through. I already have your order ready," he informed smiling. His brown eyes never moved from her face as he watched her look from him to the people waiting in line. She bit her lip as she decided whether she should cut in line or not. It took everything in him to not sigh like a love-stricken puppy.

"I don't know," she said. "It's not very fair, Jordan."

"Fair-shmair," he said waving his hand around. "Fair doesn't exist."

"Yes it does, Jordan," she told him chuckling. She has grown accustomed to him saying things don't exist over the years.

"When I get my two hundred dollars back from my brother, I'll believe in fairness," he said grinning. Grabbing her elbow, he led her through the mass of groaning adults wanting their muffins or coffees.

"Two hundred-"

"It was a bet. Don't ask," he told Layla. After a few minutes of being closer to strangers than anyone should, Layla finally received her tea and chocolate chip muffin. Her hand dug into her bag looking for her wallet when she realized her wallet was still on her dresser. Putting the tea and muffin down, she tells him of her stupidity.

"On the house," Jordan said. Shaking her head, she began to speak until he interrupted. "Don't fight me on this, Lay-Lay. I see the way you're looking at it. Take it," he laughed.

Smiling in gratitude, she gave a quick 'thank you' hug and left him to work. His eyes followed her outside and with a small smile on his face, he began making coffees.

She made her way outside with many evil looks thrown her way, but she paid them no mind. She thought it was quite sad that these adults were looking at her the same way the kids in her high school look at her. Immaturity is ageless, she thought.

Sitting down on a nearby bench, she enjoyed watching everyone walk around oblivious to everything. She nibbled on her muffin as she gazed at the people walking by without a problem in the world.