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This chapter is in Mark's perspective.
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His seemingly brand-new pants were engulfed in a tidal wave of black coffee, swallowing his ripped jeans whole, seeping in through the cracks in his pants (emphasis on the ripped part). I let out a scream louder than his at the commotion, absolutely mortified in what'd just happened. Today, my first day at a new school, the day when I was forced to blend in and not make a sound, just had to be the day that I spilled coffee all over a poor man's jeans, sending his voice higher than a gangster with marijuana.
Reflex forced me to repeatedly say, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Seeing as it wasn't very helpful, the man barked, "Just go get some fuckin' paper towels. And hurry!"
Rising to my feet, I stuttered in place, my legs locking together at the knees. Surely the Coffee House had paper towels, right? They had to, y'know, just in case some Hawaiian boy who just moved to Athlone, Co. Westmeath, Ireland, just happened to spill coffee all over a stranger's brand new pants. Anyone who bothered to even consider planning ahead would've obviously seen this incident coming from a mile away.
Rushing in through the door, I panted to the cashier, practically begging for paper towels, to which he hastily responded with a handful of napkins. Good enough. With them in my hands, I ran through the door as if bursting into song, my hands dabbing at the stains that would surely be left behind on his once spotless ripped jeans. I couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that I've most likely ruined this person's day, this one man's entire next twenty-four hours. It was only seven o'clock in the morning and I'd already managed to mess up.
Looking deeply into the man's eyes, I continued to dab while absentmindedly staring into his beautiful oceans of blue, completely enticed and entranced by the natural beauty of who he was. He wore a black beanie, similar to my brother's, with little curls of hair just nibbling out from underneath. His beard, young and just coming in like mine, was an additionally ferocious shade of brown, a musky, muddy colour to it. His lips were a luscious pink, practically highlighted against his beard framing them, absolutely adorable and manly for a guy his age.
And that was what stunned me - how old was he? He could've fooled me for being an adult, but something about the shape of his body, his style, and the fact that he was up so early made me stumble. I looked him over, head to toe, and was still completely confused; I just pray that he isn't also going to Redwood, and most definitely that he isn't in my class.
Out of nowhere, I felt his soft, fragile skin caress my fingertips as he tore the napkins from my grip, scowling down at me as he did. A shiver of vulnerability crept down my spine, making me feel small and weak in comparison to him. Despite being just around my height, he was very tall in comparison to my kneeling down on the ground, surrounded by coffee.
"If you're gonna just fuckin' stare at me, I'll do it myself," he grunted, getting to work at dabbing down on his pants, the sound of a car door slamming shut making me jump.
Out of a mint-green Volkswagen Beetle came a girl, older than him, but most likely from the same genes. They both had the same facial attributes (minus the facial hair), informing me that they were obviously somehow related. Brother and sister, I guessed, but it could be anything - hell, she could be his girlfriend. How tragic it would be to discover that he was taken, I cannot say.
"Are you okay?" she asked, stepping up to the two of us. I continued to stare up at the man before me, only to discover that she was asking me, the person who was responsible for all of this.
The man sighed. "Of course he's fine. He's not the one who has fuckin' coffee streaming down their pants!"
"Jack," she said, "it was an accident. There's no need to swear."
"There's more reason to swear than there is reason for this man to still have a job here!" he bellowed, tossing away the pile of dirty napkins, leaving sticky coffee all over his legs and jeans. The substance just barely hung off of the strands of hair peeking out trough his ripped jeans, making me bite my lower lip unintentionally.
Then I realized - he knew that I worked here. Fuck, Mark! I'd completely forgotten to take my name tag off after work, meaning that I was absolutely dumbfounded. Now I really prayed that he wasn't in the same class as me, for if he was a high school student who just happened to be attending my classroom at Redwood high, he would be capable of using this information against me in any scenario he pleased. If anyone were to find out that I work double-shifts, my face would be bruised as black as the coffee I'd spilled.
"Don't insult him," the girl heaved. "We don't have time for it. Now, would you please just get in the car so we can get going? You're going to be late!"
"What about my black coffee!?" he cried, his voice lilting in a high pitch. I absolutely loved the sound of his soothing Irish accent.
"You're wearing it. Let's go."
"Even if I were naked with just this black coffee spilled all over my crotch, I'd still be wearing more clothes than you," he muttered, stepping into the passenger's seat.
I watched them pull away as I picked up the coffee cup, not happy about having to go the rest of the school day without my daily dose of caffeine to keep me going. Standing up, I headed over to Main Street, not excited for the long walk that I had ahead of me, now delayed because of that sexy, Irish beast and his pretty sister, who didn't seem nearly as intriguing to me as him.
He seemed like the kind of guy who would rule the school, who would be the leader of a gang, the guy who would be the most macho of the group, the one that would stow away a pocketknife in the heel of his shoe if an impromptu fight were to ever break out. His beanie said it itself, how cool he must be, as if the sweater that hugged his abs-infested chest weren't enough to make me nearly drown myself in drool.
His eyes - oh, God, his eyes - were an entirely different story. Staring into his eyes was like staring into the summer sky just before the sunset came, before the yellow, pink, and purple clouds came to fog up your vision. They were the definition of a cloudless sky, a clear river seen running through a wide field of grass, that one, blue, sparkling diamond that stood out more than any other in a goldmine. Shining like the stars and as light as a feather, they tricked you into a strange sense of security, a state that one would be foolish to leave intentionally. Everything about his eyes was passionate, beautiful, and enticing, anything a man could ever ask for. I wanted more of his eyes, wanted more of him.
Just imagining the very thought of us being together, the very thought of the world's biggest nerd falling in love with the school's coolest gay guy was just like the perfect Disney movie, cheesy in all of the right ways. I could see it now, me getting shoved into lockers as he came to save the day, the two of us staying up late to work on assignments due the very next day, with him constantly coming to me for help during math class. And maybe, just maybe, the two of us would live together once high school and exams were out of the question, struggling to find jobs on our laptops while our dogs snuggled in next to us (that is, if we weren't already snuggling)...
No, Mark. You're so stupid! Lovesick over a guy you just met, one that probably hates you and isn't even gay? Like the coolest guy in school would ever decidedly fall in love and live with you...
Like you would ever be able to move out of the apartment you're already crammed into.
YOU ARE READING
Ever After
Fanfiction"His eyes - oh, God, his eyes - were an entirely different story. Staring into his eyes was like staring into the summer sky just before the sunset came, before the yellow, pink, and purple clouds came to fog up your vision. They were the definition...
