Tension

Chapter 2

"Hannah, wake up. I made breakfast for us."

I can hear Claire's voice but I'm not in the mood for opening my eyes. I shift uncomfortably and place a pillow over my head so that I can't hear her. She says something that sounds like a threat and leaves the room.

She comes back a couple of minutes later and sits on my bed. What does she want? Before I can ask her, she rapidly places a cool ice cube under my shirt which glides down my back. I jerk up awake, furious.

"You know, Claire, I never wake up to a morning so angry."

"Chill. It's ten o'clock in the morning and you should be up. I made breakfast."

"What did you make?"

"Pancakes. Oh, and at ten-thirty I have to go to the library to pick up some books. Are you okay staying here alone?"

"I'm going to get some coffee at Starbucks so I don't think I'll be home. But if you come a little late, it's okay with me."

"Alright. Breakfast is on the table."

Claire leaves the room and I walk into my bathroom. My brunette hair is all over the place and my red lipstick is smeared across my cheek. I shrug and brush my teeth.

When I'm done, I grin widely into the mirror and my white teeth give a small sparkle. I wander into the kitchen bar and I see Claire about leave. She glances at me and gives me a look.

"I'm leaving", she murmurs.

"Bye girl", I yell.

She turns, opens the door and leaves. I walk over to the table and find my breakfast over there; soggy pancakes and milk. I eat it anyway, because of my ravenous appetite. I place the maple syrup on the pancake and eat quickly. I drink the milk in one gulp.

I walk back into the bathroom, splash some water on my face and apply some eyeliner, mascara, and my favorite red lipstick on. I take a comb, brush my hair, and wear a white, wool hat. I don't why, but I wear my new t-shirt from Pink and some skinny blue jeans.

I need coffee. Right now. It's hard to get out of the addiction of it. Quickly, I grab my keys, slip my white converse on, and run out the door and into the lobby. Walking through the revolving doors, I take my phone out of my pocket and look for the nearest Starbucks. I walk through Riverside Drive and pass Columbia University, still looking into my phone.

Suddenly, someone accidentally bumps into me, and the coffee that they were holding spills all over my new shirt. I find myself furious for the second time today. I look up, fuming, and see that it was a good-looking guy who looks as old as me. He has brown hair, green eyes, and creme skin. Unable to control my anger, I unleash my fury.

"What the hell?! This shirt costed fifty dollars! Can't you watch where you're going?!"

"Sorry", he mutters.

I can sense all the stares coming from the people around me, but I don't care. Not now.

"Is that all? Because right now I have to walk two more blocks to Starbucks and walk six blocks home like this." I point to my shirt and make a disgusting look at him.

"I can give you a ride, if that's okay with you?"

I was expecting him to pay for a cab ride, but I guess getting a ride from him is okay.

"Where's your car?"

He walks toward a white lamborghini, opens the door for me, and starts the car. I leap in, reluctant of sitting with a stranger in a car, but also surprised because he owns a wealthy car like this.

"So, what's your name? I mean, I wouldn't want to sit in a car with someone who I don't know."

"Hannah. I'm not going into the store because you ruined my fifty-dollar shirt", I say, still mad at him.

"I'm Mike. Do I have to order for you?"

"Yeah"

"Do I have to pay?"

"Yeah"

"But you wasted my coffee that spilled all over your shirt. You weren't watching where you were going, too. So you owe me something as well."

Shoot. That's true. I was looking into my phone. I didn't think about that.

"I WAS watching where I was going. YOU weren't."

"You're lying."

He smiles. I have to admit, his smile is REALLY hot.

"No, I'm not.", I say, with my excellent serious face.

He laughs. The look and sound of it enlightens me.

"So what do you want me to order?"

"Pumpkin Spice Latte"

"Okay."

He parks the car in front of Starbucks and removes his seat belt. For some reason, my eyes never leave his. Those green eyes are what make him attractive.

He catches me staring at him. Shoot! I blush at him as he leaves the car. I'm such an idiot. Part of me is still angry with him, and the other part isn't that mad because I'd rather buy his looks than coffee.

After a couple of minutes, he comes out with a cup. I look into the car mirror and quickly fix my hair before he sees. Mike unlocks the door and opens it, handing me the cup.

"Now I have to take you home?"

"Um, yeah. I live in the apartments next to the Hilton Hotel. Do you know where that is?"

"You live there? I've heard that all the millionaires live there."

"Yeah. That's true."

"I know where that is."

I drink all my coffee then and there. Thank god Claire's mom is rich. After a couple of minutes, Mike stops the car in front of the apartments and he looks like he wants me to stay.

Only in your dreams Hannah, only in your dreams.

"Um, thanks."

I really didn't want to say 'thank you', but I also didn't want to make this conversation too awkward.

"You still owe me. Whenever we meet again."

I smile bashfully at him and turn around, frowning. Is that all? He probably wasn't interested in me.

"Oh, and Hannah,"

I turn back around, my eyes wide and curious.

"I'm glad I spilled coffee on you."

I don't what to say to that--- I'm speechless; standing there like an idiot, watching him swiftly drive the car into the highway.

So that means he wanted my shirt spoiled. But why? Is it because he knew I was coming his way, and he wanted to talk to me? My thoughts drift away to my shirt. I'm still kind of mad at him because he spoiled my new fifty-dollar shirt.

The elevator doors open and I run into the apartment. No one is home, so Claire must be running late. I remove my shirt and I start to wear a sweater and sweatpants. As I'm wearing my pants, I hear a knock on the door. Assuming it's Claire, I just open the door for her to come in and I go to the kitchen to look for something to eat. But no one comes into the apartment.

Curiously, I walk back to the door and see no one. I look down to see a package and a note. How odd. I glance right and left to see who placed it here, but I see no one. Briskly, I take it, close the door and lock it. I open up the folded note, and in big, red letters it says:

You're going to need this.

What would I need? I already have everything I want. I gently open the package and see what's inside.

I drop it in shock.

A gun.