Broken

Chapter One - Not My Type

Beca's POV:

I made my way into my usual coffee shop and got in the line. I fiddled with my black, chunky headphones anxiously and scanned the small but quaint coffee shop. I impatiently checked the little round clock on the wall and chewed slightly on my lip. If I was late for work for the third time in this week alone then I'm definitely gonna get fired. I'm only just an intern so that wouldn't be a good start to my DJ career, if I ever have one that is.

I finally got the the front of the slowly dissipating line and quickly ran through my daily order.

"I'll have a Caramel Frappuccino please" I said in a rushed but clear voice.

"I'd recommend the hot chocolate to be honest but it's your choice"

I looked up sharply and quickly replied, "Excuse me?"

I bit my lip once more, force of habit, and frowned. I hadn't seen her working here before. She must be new. I gave her a quick once over, ginger hair which came to rest above undeniably perky boobs, bright blue eyes, a tall slim figure, and she was very bubbly, definitely not my type.

When she didn't reply to my question, I frowned and shook my head slightly, "I'll just have what I ordered."

She smiled at me brightly and said cheerily as I stared back unimpressed, eyebrow raised,"Coming right up!", as she turned away to begin preparing my daily caffeine fix. I stared at her bum as she turned to make my hot beverage, then caught myself and quickly averted my eyes and walked along the counter slightly to wait for my drink.

I continued to watch the girl make my coffee from further down and began to tap my fingers against the counter impatiently. "Excuse me, please can you hurry up? I'm going to be late for work." I tried to speak politely but couldn't remove the hint of frustration from my voice.

She looked at me over her shoulder then grinned happily and handed me my coffee, brushing my hand against hers as she did so sending a small tingle to the pit of my stomach which I brushed off and wrinkled my nose. "All finished!" she exclaimed bouncily.

I put my money down on the counter with a small clatter and walked swiftly out the increasingly claustrophobic coffee shop.

"Good one Beca, now you're late for work. Did you really need that coffee?!" I muttered to myself as I walked quickly to the radio station. I passed a small record store and a few charity shops as I walked the few minutes down.

I drank my coffee quickly, scalding my tongue as I did so. As I drank I noticed the barista had put her number on the side of my cup with a small heart and a smiley face. Does this mean she's into girls, could she like, me? I rolled my eyes and shook off the silly thoughts as I threw the cup in the trash can.

I ran into the station and blurted a quick apology to my boss. I bit my lip once more and wondered why the girl had put her number on my cup. It seemed odd to me that someone would put their number on my cup. Me of all people. I tried to clear my mind of coffee and girls and numbers and tried to do my work and mix my tracks, as my boss ordered, and tried not to get fired.

Remember Beca. She's not your type. No one is.