Coffee People - Pedro Pascal by Emma Star

Chapter fourteen, My Number

The café on campus was pretty quiet today until the barista started cleaning the coffee machine a few minutes ago. The sound is overwhelming even with my noise cancelling headphones. I've been here for a while. After my general writing class this morning i figured I might as well see if I can get some work done before my next class. But it's useless, I haven't been able to write anything this week.

I decided to write my short story about the sculpture Peña and I talked about. That was a week ago. The outline of the story is clear, but every time I try to write I delete it again. The sentences don't flow, the feeling I normally get when writing isn't there. I've come to the conclusion that I have a writer's block.

All I've done the past week is stare at my computer screen begging the universe to please let me write something meaningful. Apparently the universe hates me.

I down the last of my Chai and pack up my stuff. I move to the library, where I set up my computer just to stare at it again. I feel like I've lost a vital organ, like a piece of me is missing. I know it sounds dramatic but honestly it's true. With a sigh I close my tabs and shove my laptop unceremoniously back in it's case. It's almost time for Peña's class. I decide to head towards the lecture hall a little earlier than I usually do, just because I can't stand sitting around and waiting any longer.

Kalich University is quite small, so walking from the library to my lecture hall only takes a few minutes. The lecture hall is in a different building which means I have to go outside. Normally I like to be outside for the short distance, but it's pouring rain. of course today is the day I forgot to check the weather forecast. I didn't bring an umbrella or even a raincoat. Great.

Before I reach for the door I decide to check the weather forecast anyway, maybe it'll blow over in a few minutes. I open the app to bad news, it'll be raining until this evening. I can't wait this out unfortunately.

A voice sounds from behind me.

'want to share?' it says.

I turn around, a guy I recognize from one of my classes is holding out his umbrella to me.

'Yeah, thanks..'

'Mark.' He says.

'Right' I nod. 'Mark.'

Mark is your standard good looking guy, tall, square jaw, blue eyes, blond hair. The whole Hollywood look. He's nice to look at to be sure, but it's never been my type if I'm honest. Whether or not Mark is my type is completely irrelevant, he's just helping me not get soaked.

He unfolds his umbrella and opens the door for me. I hold on to his arm to stay as close as possible.

We walk the short distance in silence. Once we're inside again I thank him and let go of him. We make small talk until we've reached my lecture hall and I thank him again.

'Anytime' He says while walking away. He throws a sheepish smile at me over his shoulder and gives me a quick wink.

I laugh at the playful gesture.

I turn towards the open doorway, my eyes immediately finding Peña who's staring at me from his place at his desk. My lingering smile dies when I notice the look on his face. He looks... jealous?

I make my way in to the room, looking around and realizing that I'm the first person here. Well, except for Peña. Me and Peña alone in a room together, not such a good idea. I'm about to turn around and make a run for it when he speaks.

'I noticed you haven't turned in your first draft for our second short story.' He says.

I dare to look at him again. I can't make anything of his expression or his tone. My struggle to interpret tone or expression has always irritated me.

'Uhm yeah..' I say, not sure how to respond.

He furrows his brows.

'Are you alright?' Peña asks.

I sigh, 'I'm not writing.' I admit.

'Aah you're experiencing writers block aren't you?' Peña says, amused.

'You don't seem concerned.' I respond, now irritated.

'Well it's unavoidable as a writer and by the look on your face I'm guessing this is your first time.' He says without looking up from the papers he's grading.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. What an asshole. He's right, it is my first time experiencing writers block but I wasn't going to say so.

At my silence he looks up, sighs, stands and walks over to me. He pulls out his phone and hands it to me. I take the device and stare at it. He opened the phone app.

'Put your number in.' He says. 'I'm going to help you.' He clarifies.

'Help me how?' I ask, genuinely confused now.

He grins and I immediately realize how that sounded. I can feel myself going scarlet and Peña's grin widens when he notices. Not being able to look him in the eye any longer I put my number in his phone and hand it back to him.

I clear my throat softly, 'Right.' I nod.

That seems to snap him out of it. He looks at me once more and returns to his desk. I climb the stairs up to the highest row and take a seat in the corner. Not long after lots of people start filling in and taking up more and more seats. Miles finds me and takes a seat next to me.

When I look at Peña again he's talking to Kim Collin, his TA. She laughs at something he says and jealousy courses through me. This shouldn't affect me so, but I can't help it.

'You okay?' Miles asks.

I rip my gaze from Peña and lie to miles face, 'Yeah just writers block.'

'Ah man that sucks. Is there anything I can do to help?' He pouts and I cringe a little. Yikes.

'I'll figure it out, thanks.'

Class went by agonizingly slow. For most of it we were supposed to work on our second draft, but seeing as I didn't even have a first draft I couldn't participate. I tried working on my first draft, but that has never been more useless. So I ended up just reading for the remainder of the class.

~

As I'm walking to the bus stop I get a text from an unknow number.

What are you doing on Thursday? Your schedule says you're free.

Peña. I smile despite myself, he looked at my schedule.

What, are you stalking me now? Talk about mixed signals.

I hit send. I'm bold over text, it's easier when you don't have to look someone in the eye. He replies almost immediately.

Just answer the question Mila.

I work until 12, I'm free after that.

I'll pick you up at 1. Still the same apartment?

Yep.

See you then.

I don't respond after that. I wonder what he has in mind. I myself could think of a few ways he could get me writing again..

Damn brain. Why do you keep going there. He's just trying to help.

I couldn't help but wonder if he had other reasons for helping me than just 'being nice'. He didn't exactly strike me as the type to do that for just anyone. He had never indulged in the attention he got from his students as far as I was aware, so why do this for me? 

Hi guys, long time no see. I'm so sorry I've kept you waiting. I've been experiencing massive writers block (as you may have suspected). I'm finally writing again, but I'm not writing as much and it's not as good as I would like it to be. So please be patient with me. Thank you so much for reading chapter fourteen and as always give it a little star if you enjoyed and leave any thoughts in the comments!