She's So Nice |Joji|

Chapter 3

It felt eternal as we sat here at this coffee shop. The ukelele-based songs, people conversing too loudly, the smell of coffee slowly mixing with the stench of sweat of each person that walked by our table... I've never wanted to leave a place so badly, yet she wouldn't stop talking about her life. As she babbles on about how she fell that one time when she was a child, laughing stupidly by herself, I look at lukewarm coffee being held in my hands. I started thinking... why the fuck did I even kiss her? She's a complete stranger; I barely know anything about her. Then again, if that's the way to win her trust I'll keep on doing it.

"Hey," she placed her hand softly on my forearm as she gazed at me, noticing I was not paying attention to anything she said, "you okay there? You've been spacing out a lot."

I sat back up, moving my forearm away from her touch. "I just remembered I have stuff to do." I got up, left a tip for the waitress and started walking away without saying another word.

"Wait!" She exclaimed, catching my attention as I turned around. "You're not gonna say bye to me?" She smiled bashfully, until it turned into a frown as she watched me coldly wave at her.

I opened the front door and walked out laughing. Man, her face was priceless when I did that. What did she expect? I wasn't going to be all romantic with a stranger. That shouldn't even be counted as a "first date" or a date at all. We were simply talking about our personal life and getting to know each other... completely different to a date.

When I got to my car, I received a text from an unknown number. I searched for it as I tried to open the car, failing miserably many times.

866-274-9358 (Unknown)
"You're a complete dick, George. Making me waste my time like that."

I chuckled and started to answer her pathetic message.

866-958-2731 (George)
"How pity."

___

"Another shot of vodka, please." Max asked politely while he watched the football game.

I really didn't like sports, believe it or not. I'm more into photography, and filming. I'm into making songs with melancholic beats and sad lyrics. I like to portray my feelings in the form of art. In the form of verses, of metaphors.

I spaced out, once again, thinking about that girl. About Isabelle and her smile. I still don't understand the ticklish feeling I get in my stomach every time I see her or hear her name.

"Oi, any girl for takeout?" Max turned over to me, already looking drunk.

I sighed and shook my head. "Not tonight, mate." He laughed but stop once he noticed I wasn't joking.

"Really, George? Why not? You always do." He slammed the shot glass on the counter, alerting the bartender for another drink.

"I just don't feel like it, man. I don't know."

"It's Isabelitis."  He snorted while he kept slamming the shot glass on the counter. "Mate, a drink!" He shouted at the bartender.

"Fuck off. I don't believe in falling in love." I answered him with a serious tone.

"Sure you don't..." he drank the shot of vodka and looked back at me, "and I'm cheating on Katt." He added sarcastically.

"Hi guys." Suddenly, Ian walked over and spoke to us as he fixed the position of his glasses.

I slammed some money for the waiter on the counter and got up from the tall stool. "I don't love her, Max. She's just a fucking toy to me. All I want is to fuck the living shit out of her and ignore her for the rest of my life. Catch a ride with Ian."

And with that, I got up and left. I was mad, angry at the world. I have never gotten so defensive like that over anything. What is wrong with me? Why was I suddenly obsessed with her? She means nothing to me, right?

Right?