color blind | e.d

i. coffee shop

The sound of a bell chiming rings. A new customer walks in, their walk powerful and fast. Movements are fierce and sharp.

Her suit screams that she's an intern, maybe a lawyer, something in the professional field of jobs. She wears black to make herself look thinner.

Thick blonde hair is slick back and tightly wrapped in a bun that tops her head, ruby red lipstick popping as her black eyeliner is as sharp as her light blue eyes.

Her personality screams, "I'm a bitch." But the smile she gives to the boy at the counter says something different.

Another customer follows, this time a man and a younger teenager female.

He seems to be a father, and he brought his daughter to get coffee because she's had either one of the best or worst days at cheer practice. Judging from the bruise forming near her eye and the smearing makeup, it was a long day.

Enough of reading people. I needed to focus on waiting for Tamar, a childhood friend of mine. I can't believe she dragged me in here, knowing how "white" some say getting coffee is and knowing already that I'm more of a tea than coffee person.

Not that I didn't order tea, because that's what I did. I always preferred tea.

She hasn't texted me back since 1:45 p.m today, which was after I had lunch. It's starting to rain, pouring at that, and now I'm starting to think she stood me up. Again.

Tamar is a pro when it comes to petty games like that. Who am I to complain, though? She was my best friend after all.

I close my eyes and suck in a sharp breath as I try to gather myself from fuming over this situation. Tamar knows my temper is hot, and she also knows that I absolutely hate being stood up. I'm starting to think she doesn't care about me any more, only about herself.

When I open my eyes, there's a figure walking towards me, but I didn't think anything about it. I have still yet to get any messages.

The known presence of the stranger starts to linger right by my table just as I finish texting Tamar, my eyes shifting up to this stranger. A handsome one at that.

He had on some sweat pants, a black hoodie, and a beanie covering his head. He stood there with his drink in his hand.

This random guy was seriously gorgeous, with this cute slight smile that hung on his features.

His lips are moving, but I don't hear a sound. I didn't even hear him until the chime at the door went off again, and noticed I was in a daze too long.

"Hm? I'm sorry, I didn't catch that." I want him to repeat what he said. He laughs lightly, which is literally the cutest thing I've heard all day.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" he points to the other seat in my booth. Swallowing, I move my things carefully so that I wouldn't spill my drink and nod.

"Yeah, sure, of course," I say and give him a soft grin as he slides in, taking a sip of his drink. He seems nice.

"Nice to meet you, my name's Ethan," he sticks out his hand, which I shake gently.

"Hi, Ethan. My name is April," I respond.

Why was I talking to this complete stranger? What did he want with me? If he was going to talk shit, I was going to send him on his way, real quick.

"I like that name. So, April as in the month of April?" he asks, making me give him a weird look. Is he serious?

"I wasn't trying to come off like that, I was just trying to make conversation," Ethan says, his cheeks flushing red. I grin at his shyness and weirdly find it attractive.

"Anyways," I change the subject and fold my arms underneath me. "Why did you sit with me? Like I have absolutely no problem with you sitting here, don't get me wrong. It's just..." I glance around the small café.

"It has so many tables?" Ethan finishes, casually taking another sip of his drink.

"Yes, exactly," I agree.

"Well, when I walked in, at first I was going to sit by myself. Then I starting thinking, and I was going to be lonely, so I came over to you," he answers me simply, like he had already planned this conversation in his head.

"You seem like a nice conversationalist. So I was like, why not?"

I'm still unconvinced. There's obviously more than this reason. Besides, I'm usually not that much of an inviting person at all. Even my own family members are cautious about talking to me.

"Bullshit," I laugh, shaking my head and crossing my arms. "I'm obviously not an inviting person if my own best friend stands me up. My family members are so intimidated by me that they don't talk to me at all."

His eyebrows knit down. "Oh, that doesn't sound too good."

I roll my eyes and scoff. "You're telling me."

"But I'm not one of your family members or your best friend who stood you up. I'm a complete stranger who read you in a way many people should," Ethan says, his hands resting on the table in front of him.

His words left an affect on me as they repeat in my head. What did he mean? What was he talking about? I slowly shift my eyes from the window to him, confused as to his reason for those exact words.

It's silent for a moment as I fiddle with the silver ring on my middle finger and chew slightly on my lips. Now it's super awkward between us, and I don't know how to get the conversation back on track. Ethan does, however. Talk about conversationalist.

"What is that you got there?" he directs his attention to the notepad lying beside my cup. Should I tell him? The hell with it, it's not like I'll see him again in my life.

"I like to do interior design. I write down ideas and draw them out or whatever. It's nothing important," I brush it off, sticking the notebook back in my purse I came with. Ethan starts to stand as I do, and I look at him again.

"I think that's amazing," he breathes. He then turns awkward and uncomfortable before stuttering out something.

"I was wondering if you wanted to meet back up here tomorrow for breakfast? I kind of had fun talking to you," he says, rocking back and forth on his toes. Really dude? Might as well give him a chance.

"Sure," I sigh. He starts to smile as I give in. "Here's my number." We switch numbers into our phones, just in time I catch an older couple looking at us in disgust. Here we go again.

Ethan doesn't see it, thank God, because he seems like the type to be loud. He gives me a warm smile before insisting on walking me to my car in the freezing rain, taking his hoodie off and holding it over my head so I wouldn't get wet. It is in the middle of May. Such a gentleman.

"Thank you," I say gratefully to him while starting up my car.

"No problem, see you tomorrow." Ethan waves me goodbye as I drive away, standing there before getting into his own car.

A/N
Get ready for some intense cursing and language yikes
Second interracial book and I'm so happy the boys won Male Web Star for Teen Choice Awards!! Literally couldn't stop crying ok bye now :)
-m. xo
character change (picture above) ((: