The Loud House // It's Too Much || Clincoln

[Two - Clyde]

I nervously checked my watch again.

Late.
Late.
Late.

He should've been here by now.

I handed an older looking business woman her coffee with a smile, which quickly turned into a concerned frown once she turned her back. Is he late again? I can't shake the thought of an accident happening on the way here, especially involving a specific motorcycle. I wiped my sweaty palms on my apron, looking nervously at the shop's clock.

'Oh god, what if he just thinks I'm too weird?' I thought, chewing on my lip. I wouldn't blame him, especially if he knew how I react when he's late.

I sighed, practically deflating onto the counter. I planted my head down on the counter as my arms hung over the opposite side. Why is this so hard? Is this just a stupid crush I keep falsely convincing myself of having? No matter how many times a day I ask myself this question, there never is an answer back.

I hate him, I really do. He's left me before, so what makes me think that I, the boy who nobody notices day after day, could have a relationship with the boy who has slept with every teenager in town? Let alone have him talk to me about something other than coffee.

Like that would ever fucking happen, he doesn't even know who I am. He doesn't even remember me, his best fucking friend all through Elementary school.

Bullshit.

I stood back up, knowing that if my boss caught me like that I would most likely get a warning. That guy would never fire me, I'm the only one who consistently shows up to work every day. Not to mention I'm one of the only people who are able to work the morning shift. 'One in the morning is a perfect time to work' my ass. If I wasn't grounded and actually had a life, I would quit in a heartbeat.

I rubbed the shaved sides on my head and fluffed the long hair on top. I've been awake since midnight, my as well look like it. I probably look like hell by now, but I know the worst part is that I still have to go to school for practically the rest of the day. I don't know how I particularly feel about school. I mean, I don't hate it, but I don't want to stay there longer than I have to. I'm sure High School would be a hell of a lot easier if I had - I dunno - friends. Or maybe just someone to notice me. I've never had someone I could call my friend since middle school. And he's the one running late to get his stupid freaking latte.

I rocked back in forth on my feet with my arms crossed behind my back, staring at the clock. I get to leave in ten minutes, and then do my annual daily race to school. Goody.

I didn't have the heart to tell my boss that I'm late for school every day, even if it didn't really matter anyways. I have Study Hall first hour and the teacher is barely awake enough to notice if the whole school wasn't there, let alone a specifically dark skinned background teen.

My ears perked up, hearing the familiar sound of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. For some reason I always wished I could ride that motorcycle. I wouldn't even care if my parents saw me. However, I would be more likely to be hit by his bike than actually get to ride it. And have my arms around him? The most contact I've had with the boy is accidentally brushing hands while taking his money and giving change. It's basically hopeless.

I stood on my toes as I watched him park his bike in his usual spot and take off his helmet. I was slightly disappointed that he was hearing his hat underneath his helmet, I always found his pale hair adorable. I couldn't help but frown at his lack of protection against the cold, but wouldn't anyone? I sighed; he's just as stupid as he was back then.

It didn't stop me from looking, though.

I watched as he opened the front doors before pausing in front of them. He closed his eyes and held his arms out, like he's about to embrace someone in a hug. I awkwardly shuffled my feet, not quite knowing if I should be looking. He snapped out of his weird daze and smiled towards me, almost like he knew I was staring.