Count to Ten

Chapter 1 - Scary Dwayne Johnson

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         The crisp, cold winter air brushed against my small nose. I walked quicker into the small yet famous café, desperate to get away from the wind.

      I opened the door, and the small bell ringed, alerting I was here. I scanned the room looking for Cal, my usual barista.

        In front of Cal was a typical long line, as it was the best café in town. As soon as I step in line, I stretch my neck in order to see how long the line truly was. Different numbers floated in and out of my head. Two, three, two, one, two, two.

           When the door bell rang, I averted my eyes to see the new customer. A huge, bulky, dangerous looking man stood in the doorway. Other people around him were politely avoiding him, as he could easily bodyslam any of them. He looked like a scarier version of Dwayne Johnson.

        As I got a better look at him, a single number popped into my brain. Six. Note to self: don't make him mad.

         Scary Dwayne Johnson walked in and cracked his knuckles. He slowly started to make his way towards Cal's line. The line I was in.

         You might think I'm judging people. What if Scary Dwayne Johnson is actually a humanitarian? I highly doubt it.

       I have an ability that most people don't have. I've remembered having it since I was a small girl. I am able to look at people and immediately know on a scale of one to ten how dangerous they are. A small child might be a one, while a trained soldier armed with a gun might be an eight. I guess it's my own secret superpower...

      Scary Dwayne Johnson is a six. He's pretty dangerous.

      He comes closer and closer until finally, he stops right behind me. Scary Dwayne Johnson was right behind me! I could sense his shadow hanging over me, just waiting to snap my neck.

      I pulled out my phone to distract myself in the long line.

     Time seemed to move slowly. The clock was ticking. School was starting. A possible dent in my perfect attendance record? No way!

      Finally, it was my turn to order. "Hello, Cal." I smile. A two pops up in my head, the same as the past month. He was wearing the usual café baseball cap and the apron.

        "Hey, Aspyn! Will it be your usual today?" He asks me with a smile.

       I nod. "Yes, please." I speak quicker, knowing school was starting soon and that scary Dwayne Johnson was right behind me.

       Cal taps the small, old cash register. A number popped up into the small screen above the register. "That will be three dollars." He smiled.

      I handed three one dollar bills to Cal, and he handed me my order number. "Thanks, have a nice day!" I say.

        "You too, Aspyn!" He beamed his cute bright smile.

       I walked away and plopped onto the run down café couch, in need of replacement. I waited for them to make my frappe, meanwhile watching scary Dwayne Johnson.

      I saw Cal's Adam's apple bob as he gulped. I would, too. I mean, he really looks like a scary Dwayne Johnson!

      "Fourty two!" Another café employee says into their microphone. I look onto my small slip of paper, reading '42'.

      I take my frappe and thank the man. I quickly leave, school started in fifteen minutes.

         I start up my old Volkswagen beetle and quickly drive off.

       Ring! Ring! The school bell rang, but it didn't matter. I was already in my seat for honor's English.

       The small room was nearly empty. Where was everybody?

        "Well then, class. Let's begin with a-" the elderly Mrs. Boug was interrupted by the classroom door being slamming open.

      "Sorry, Mrs. Boug." A familiar voice said. Kaelie Meadows with her short skirt and designer hand bag stood at the door. The number 'four' flashed through my head.

       Mrs. Boug pushed her glasses down to the bridge of her nose. "Can you take the time to explain why you are late, Ms. Kaelie?" She said in a typical old lady voice.

       Kaelie opened her handbag and pulled out a small photo. "My cat, um," she said with a fake expression of sadness. "Pickles, passed away." She started to do the worst display of fake sobbing I have ever seen in my life.

        That would be the third time this week 'Pickles' died.

        She showed Mrs. Boug the photo.

        "Oh, poor Pickles. You're excused." Mrs. Boug said, falling for Kaelie's trick.

      Kaelie scanned the room through her heavily makeuped eyes. Her platform heels clicked as she walked and sat in the seat right behind me. Of all the empty seats, right behind me.

      Of course she would. Kaelie Meadows hates me. She uses her popularity against me ever since the whole fifth grade fiasco where she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her. Cheating on her with me, of course. The girl who has never had a boyfriend.

         She settles in behind me and pulls out her sparkly pink binder.

      "Psst! Aspyn!" She whispered to me.

      I whip around. "Yes?" I asked with a hint of annoyance.

       "What the heck are you wearing?" She asked sassily.

      I look at my stripey sweatshirt and skinny jeans. "Clothes?" I say in a 'duh' tone.

       She narrows her eyes at me. "Well, they look like you got them at Wal-Mart." She said, a hint of evil in her mean eyes.

        I scoffed and turned around. "No, not Wal-Mart, I got them at Target."

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      Lunch time is probably my least favorite time of the day besides Physical Education.

      They charge us for the equivalent of dog food and then make us go sit next to people who don't like you.

     I held my tray of food and scanned the room for an empty spot. Thankfully, there was a spot at the table where the conspiracy theory kids sat. They don't mind me as long as I know what an illuminati is.

       I plopped down on the bench and picked up the dog food the school calls hamburgers.

    "What if George Bush is actually a plant?" One of them asked. A girl on the other side pulled out a piece of paper and started doing math. "According to the theory it could technically be possible, because of his.." I drowned the ridiculous theory out by staring at the big clock hanging above the teachers' table, waiting for lunch to be over.

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Yay! New story! I promise the next chapter won't be terribly boring. Or short. Love, Julesssss ❤