A coffee a day keeps the boys away.

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My fingers drum across the tabletop over and over again. The coffee machine behind the counter whirrs and screeches but I don't even flinch. Kinsley and I had spent so many Sunday afternoons here that the sound was actually sort of comforting. 

The empty chair across the table from me makes my black nails tap even harder. I had thought painting them that colour would be the best fit for my mood. A perfect colour to match my soul.

Okay, maybe that's a teeny tiny  bit dramatic, but you get the point. I was miserable.

Not only did I have the worst hangover since, well - ever, I was still fuming from my fight with August, depressed over the hour long lecture Josh had given me on the phone, and feeling guilty about hurting Kinsley's feelings. I had hit the sad-sack trifecta.

I decided to start off with Kinsley even though I wasn't entirely sure it was 100% my fault. BUT I decided to be the bigger person (not literally of course because I am half hobbit) and ask her to meet me here. In fact, she was meant to be here a whole five minutes ago.

What if she didn't come? What if after I left she went on a drunken rampage and removed any traces of me from her life forever? All the blood drains from my face, who would braid my hair for me now?

Just when I'm about to burst into big fat tears Kinsley bursts into the café as if she was pushed by a giant gust of wind. Batting her bright red hair out of her face she locks her eyes on me and I see her chest rise in a giant sigh of relief.  I feel my heart grow three sizes as she rushes over to the table.

"Oh El, I'm so sorry about what happened. I know you put him off limits but - "

I jump up and smother her up in a hug. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I swear to god this boy will actually be the death of me."

She pulls me at an arms length and gives a weak smile, "But not our friendship, deal?"

Now it's my turn to sigh in relief as we sit down and order our drinks, "Deal."

The coffee machine gives one especially loud screech and both of our faces scrunch in perfect synchronisation. Kinsley giggles through the pain, rubbing her temples, "Ugh, I know I say this after every time we drink but this time I mean it. I am never, ever drinking again."

Groaning I flop my head onto the table, "Don't even get me started. Apparently when we got home I vomited all over August and...." I pause to swallow the lump in my throat, "my Louie's !"

She explodes into laughter, and any other day I would have thrown the menu at her face but I was so delighted that she wasn't mad at me that I was tempted to make of list of all the embarrassing things (it would take me days, mind you) I've done in my life and send it to her in the mail.

"I guess that's a sure fire way to keep him away," She chokes through giggles.

I frown, "No I think we made it pretty clear this morning that what happened last night would never, ever happen again. That, and I called him a rat bastard."

She stops giggling long enough to raise her perfectly plucked eyebrow, "And is that what you want? For him to stay away?"

My tongue suddenly feels like it weighs a hundred pounds as Kinsley waits for me to answer, her eyebrow raising higher and higher up her forehead by the second. YES YOU DO! USE YOUR WORDS ELSIE!  But they just wouldn't come.

"I'm - "

"An extra large latte and a double shot cappuccino?" A bored looking waitress interrupts me holding two steaming cups of liquid gold. Kinsley's eyes tear off of me and onto the waitress, her pupils doubling in size.

"Oh, yes please!"

"Thank-you." I say to the waitress, not for the coffee, but for the distraction.





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