The paintbrush he flung landed a yard in front of me. I took a step towards it and kicked it across the room. "I'm late because I decided to get you coffee," I said bitterly.
He eyed the cups I held, and walked to me slowly. "That's not the best excuse I've heard before, but it's one of the most creative."
"You're welcome," I muttered.
He reached me and almost smiled, until he saw the coffee again. His face turned into an ugly frown. "I don't like cold coffee."
"What?" I shook my head, hoping I'd heard wrong.
He cleared his throat. "The feeling of having frigid caffeine rush down my throat is unwelcome. I hate iced coffee for that reason. It's like eating cold pizza, or cold Chinese rice, or hot ice cream."
I scoffed loudly. "Cold pizza is awesome; cold Chinese rice is even better, and hot ice cream isn't even scientifically possible!"
"God created strange people to amuse the normal humans," he said smirking.
I didn't slap him with my cold hand because I didn't want to get fired so soon. Instead, I took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm happy to be weird. There's worse: I could be you."
I don't think he liked that.
"Get to work," he growled. He grabbed his coffee from my hand and tossed it into a trash bin.
"HEY! I wanted to drink that!" I yelled as he strolled back to his paint can.
"You'll get fat. I just saved your life."
I groaned and set my coffee on a table. I picked up the paint brush I had kicked and threw it to his pain can nearby. The grey paint jumped up and splashed Cameron's pants, which he (again) did not like...
(Sorry for the short and boring chapter, still sick and I got a ton of homework to do. I'll update later :D)
YOU ARE READING
Confessions
Teen Fiction"A local business holds support groups, where people anonymously enter their own confessions for the world to hear. This week's subject is suicide. I think it's... just ODD and twisted for them to publish those kinds of confessions." I heard her che...
