This was a therapeutic chain of events.

SEVEN

I hunched over and felt myself about ready to blow. I was in the middle of a quietish street, not too far from the string of restaurants cafés and boutiques a couple blocks down from my apartment. On the right hand side of me was the black neck high gate that surrounded central park, one of the entrances being a large cutaway. On the left hand side of me was a row of colourful 20th century apartment buildings, not too dissimilar to mine.

I could feel the remnants from last night fighting to claw their way back up my oesophagus. There only so much I could swallow back down, I ran into the opening of the park and thankfully it was deserted, apart from a woman walking her dog, I leant over one of the fences and literally puked my guts out. Clutching on to my stomach, I released all intoxication from my body.

After the woman walking her dog ran away I was left alone, spitting out what disgusting fragments were left in my mouth, wiping it with the back of my leather jacket sleeve.

When I reappeared from the safety of the bushes, the sun seemed to be twice as bright, as I lifted my hands to my face my stomach growled in an earth-shaking attempt to convince me to eat something. Food sounded really good right about now. Then my brain suddenly found itself drifting to Larry, and I suddenly felt selfish for even being hungry at all. I dug through my pockets remembering I had forgotten my wallet when I escaped from my own house, running down the street from my own father, the neighbours must think very highly of us, shouting at each other at 7:30 on a Sunday morning.

To my triumph I pulled out a $20 bill and did a cliché little mini breakfast club fist pump to the air. I walked over to the café I always go to 'the squirrel hill café', I loved it here, it was warm cosy, and they knew my order, what more do you want? I walked in and heard the oh so familiar bell sound above my head as I made my way up the counter, thankfully there was no queue and I stood before a young man who looked around 23 maybe, but who also looked very new.

"Hi what can I get for you?" He asked a friendly smile plastering his stubble covered face.

"Um, I'll have a regular coffee, black. Two breakfast teas, a bacon roll, one of those swirly biscuit things, cream cheese bagel and..." I scanned the long display panel that hugged the cash register for something so myself. "A blueberry muffin please." I said, looking back up at him as he typed the order in to the register with a grin on his face. That was a cute grin. "What?" I asked him chuckling a little.

"Nothing I just never thought that a pretty little girl like you could eat so much." He said, emphasizing the word 'little' and chuckling afterwards.

"Ha ha it's not all for me." I said squinting my eyes playfully.

"Well who's it for then?" He said turning around to make the drinks.

"If I tell you, you're gonna think I'm all weird and Samaritan like." I said looking at his incredibly toned back in the white fitted work shirt he possessed. I put my elbows on the counter and leant forward winging my legs like a child, that's something I've always done when I come in here, the counter was just the right height.

"Try me." He said turning around for a seconds and giving me a grin. Oh my god that grin.

"Have you ever walked through the square by the park with central on you right that hobby shop thing on your left and East 94th street at 5th avenue straight in front of you?" I asked him still swinging my legs back and forth.

"Um yeah." He said with a confused look on his face, chuckling at my obvious strange response.

"Well, have you ever seen that homeless guy sitting on the bench by the park?" I asked.

"Yeah?" He said still confused.

"His names Larry." I said, hoping he would catch on. He let out an adorable little laugh and turned around with the drinks.

"Wow, and I thought good Samaritans were just a myth." He said handing me the drinks and leaning forward placing his forearms on the counter.

"Go on make jokes I don't care." I said dramatically flipping some hair from off my shoulder, causing his grin to appear again.

After a minute of thought he spoke. "Let me guess, the black coffee and blueberry muffin are for you?" He assumed looking down at me with his deep brown eyes.

"How'd you guess?" I said stopping my legs from swinging and planting my feet on the ground.

"My born ability to read people." He said drumming the counter as he left to get the food.

"So you think I'm easy to read?" I asked him daringly. This guy was becoming quite the attraction, maybe I'll have to come here more often than I did before.

"I'm not sure, something tell me you're a little harder to read than most people." He said, looking over at me a furrowing his brow.

"How'd you figure?" I asked him, curious to know the answer. He put the bagel in the toaster and walked back over to me, resuming his position on the counter top.

"Well... The way you swing your legs from the counter tells me that you grew up way too fast and still have a bundle of child left in you, the black makeup from the night before tells me that you didn't go home last night, but stayed round a friend's house maybe, or your boyfriends? The faint smell of cigarette smoke and weed coming off your jacket tells me that you like a good party, your black clothes and army boots tell me that you like people to think your tough so they don't hurt you, but the fact that your taking food to a homeless man tells me that actually deep down your quite the sweetheart." He said, looking at me, reading my face. I squinted my eyes at him, trying to figure out how he figured out all that stuff.

"Lucas." He said holding out his hand for me to shake it.

"Ronnie." I said taking his hand and shaking it.

"Ronnie." He spoke. "So tell me where I went wrong?" He said pushing himself off the counter and getting the food from the display. I thought about everything he said for a minute before speaking.

"Just one thing." I said shrugging my shoulders and pulling an innocent face.

"Oh yeah, what's that?" He said placing all my food in front of me. I grabbed it all up before replying.

"I don't have a boyfriend." I said smirking at him, turning around to leave, I turned and pushed the door with my back, looking back at him to see his elbows on the counter, looking down and smiling widely to himself before looking back up at me just as I left.

I think I could get used to him.