Where We Started [Joetrick]

1. Cliches

Patrick Stump:
Let me tell you a little something funny about fate. It works in the most cliché of ways.

Like one day, you go into your usual coffee shop for your normal cup of tea, and you come out having met your soulmate.

I entered the small book store, the bells twinkled joyfully as the wooden door opened.

"Patrick!" Spencer called from behind the counter of the attached café. "I was almost worried you wouldn't show."

I looked down at my cracked phone screen -produced from the time Andy scared me. "It's only thirty minutes past five."

Spencer wiped the counter down with a clean rag. "Shop closes in 45."

I dropped my bag onto the round table by the window. "Then I'll just hang out here until then."

"Sometimes I think you just come for the free WiFi," he called as he headed into the back room.

I pulled my computer out of the bag. "The tea here is great too." I shrugged. "But you also know it's the only place I can study."

Spencer placed my usual tea, in the usual paper cup, on the table. "How's Andy's exploration of rock music."

"Noisy." I answered, digging into my pocket and producing several crumpled dollar bills.

Spencer grinned and took them. "Well, at least your roommate isn't an exhibitionist, who's experimenting with his sexuality."

"Is Brendon really that bad?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Worse." Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna continue closing; you can hang out here."

I opened my laptop. "Thanks Spence." I turned to my laptop and began working on my eight page government essay.

And by working, I mean staring at a half-done essay, as I wracked my brain for more information on boring Founding Fathers.

I don't honestly understand why I need to know so much about the Federalist party or Alexander Hamilton. He seemed like a problematic, pretentious, asshole, who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

"I'm not completely sure that last sentence is historically accurate." Spencer leaned over my shoulder.

I snapped out of my daze. "Huh?"

"'Alexander Hamilton, the leader of the Federalist party, was a problematic, pretentious, asshole, who couldn't keep his dick in his pants," Spencer read. "Well, I'm sure Thomas Jefferson would agree, as would Aaron Burr, I suppose."

I shook my head and deleted the last sentence. "I'm sure that would be acceptable if my government teacher was Thomas Jefferson."

Spencer chuckled. "There's a storm rolling in, you should head back before it starts."

I looked out the widow; sure enough, dark storm clouds loomed on the horizon.

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up." I stood and quickly gathered my things.

"No problem." Spencer said. "See you tomorrow, Patrick."

I shoved my things into the leather messenger bag and grabbed my mostly-finished cup of tea. "Bye Spence." I turned to wave at him.

I'd like to say fate kept me deaf to the sound of the bells above the door, and kept me from sensing the presence of the body behind me.

But, that's probably because I never pay attention to my surroundings.

Anyways, I turned around and ran straight into a hard, but fairly bony chest.

Oh, how cliché. I thought as I stumbled backwards.