Piece By Piece | ✓

6 | tristan

     Stalking someone was definitely not on the list of things Tristan Andrews usually did. In his defense, he wouldn't actually call it stalking per se, it was more like... research.

     Yep, surfing the internet and looking for clues that would lead him to a certain pale-skinned, dark-haired girl was definitely research, not stalking.

     But as minutes stretched on to hours, Tristan still couldn't find the person he was looking for. With her folders tucked safely under a small lamp on his desk, he'd typed Vanessa Dawson on his search engine and had gone through several pages on Google just to find her social media account, or anything at all that was related to her.

     Sure, there were loads of girls who had the same name, but none of them looked like her.

     For the first time in two hours, Tristan closed his laptop and sighed deeply as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was going to take him a while to find out about that mysterious classmate of his.

     Tristan stood up from his chair, left his desk, and got out of his room, stretching out his arms and groaning in satisfaction when he felt his muscles loosen up a bit.

    He went straight to the kitchen, inspecting the cupboards for the pack of Nescafe he had brought along with him from his previous apartment.

     It was nowhere to be seen.

     From what he remembered, it was still about a quarter and half full; he made sure not to drink too much of it since he had yet to find a job.

     He just finished writing a three-page essay on Business Law and he badly wanted to have his daily dose of caffeine to soothe his tired mind. Coffee was always his go-to drink after doing something that required him to burn lots of brain cells.

     Frustrated, Tristan went back to his room again and fished for his car keys inside the front pocket of his bag, slipped on a pair of pants and sneakers before going out of the apartment he and his cousin were supposedly sharing.

     Tristan smoothly backed out of the driveway and kept his eyes peeled for a nearby coffee shop and a certain dark-haired girl. He was still a bit unfamiliar with the various buildings and street signs surrounding him; it had only been a week since he first moved in to this neighborhood.

     About three meters away from where he was, he saw a quaint little coffee shop next to an ancient-looking bookstore. Almost immediately, he pulled over and got out of his car, a relieved smile spreading across his face as he jogged towards his destination.

     The smile on his face widened some more as he pictured an image of himself holding a hot cup of coffee, a flat white to be exact. Tristan was positive that the coffee shop was going to be his safe haven until he graduated college.

     When Tristan arrived in front of the brick-walled building, his eyes automatically read the coffee shop's name—Books and Brews—which was scribbled at the top of the building in simple yet elegant black letters, several potted plants aligning the stoned pathway that lead to the coffee shop itself.

     The interior of Books and Brews was even better. Several potraits of abstract art hung from its brick-paneled walls, chestnut-colored chairs and comfy gray couches scattered neatly across the vinyl floor, a soothing, acoustic version of Hey There Delilah played in the background, adding to the mellow atmosphere of the coffee shop.

     There were only a few people inside, which was another plus for Tristan. He was certain that he was going to stay and relax here for a while before continuing his research.