Sweet Tooth

Chapter Three

Gumball's Pov:

"What can I get you, sir?" I asked the customer.

"A chocolate mint frappe." He said.

"Coming right up." I said cheerfully.

I only had an hour before my shift was over. Then I could read my poem. I loved working when we were having a poetry slam. Poetry is one of my favorite things.

"Eyes like a car crash,

I know I shouldn't look,

But I can't turn away.

Body like a whiplash,

Salt my wounds,

But I can't heal,

The way I feel about you." A guy read his poem.

The room erupted in snaps.

I started to clean out my coffee machine. I was getting off soon and I like to make sure my station was spotless.

"That was great, men. Next up we've got a familiar face for you all." Gary, the poetry host said.

"Can you imagine,

living a thousand different lives."

I recognized the voice to be Marshall's. Why was he here? I never knew he wrote poetry.

"a thousand different people,

a thousand different lands.

Sounds like a pretty cool life.

But what would you sacrifice,

what would you give up

to live this life.

Every one you learned to love,

they have to leave you,

alone in the end.

Fall in love,

just to watch them die.

So now,

I've learned to just go numb,

no one needs you,

they just use you.

You still want my life?"

Wow, I didn't know Marshall felt that way. I never knew he had such a painful life. He seemed so rugged, and hard. He never struck me as a sensitive person.

But maybe he actually is. Maybe he just acts tough to drown out the emotion. I wonder if he ever feels weak, or lonely.

That made him even more attractive to me. I don't know why but that thought kind of turned me on. I never thought of Marshall like that before. But it made me like him even more.

The room exploded in snaps. Marshall gave a cocky smile and winked in my direction. I knew that was meant for someone else. It always will be. I know, no matter how much I wish, Marshall Lee just won't be the guy for me.

He walked over to my counter. And he sat on one of the stools.

"Sup Bubba." His silky deep voice growled.

"U-Um... what can I get f-for you?" I stuttered.

"Just an apple." He motioned towards the bowl of apples behind the counter.

I handed him the apple and said, "50 cents."

He dug in his black leather wallet for some change. He set the two quarters on the counter, and one of them spun in a circle before falling flat.