The World Will Never Be The Same

Intelligent Eyes

You never exactly know what will happen after your eighth cup of coffee. For me, it was meeting the love of my life. And also spilling my previously mentioned coffee all over him. I'm a law student at Princeton, and that comes with a lot of stress. I'm only twenty-one, but my mind is older. I worked my way into this college though my writing, and I'm not throwing away my shot at success.

All that aside, I should probably set the scene. It was a nice October day. Crisp air, blue sky, and fluffy clouds. I was walking to my favorite coffee shop, Schuyler, before my first class, which was 9:30, and it was currently 8:00. I had woken before my alarm, so I decided 'Heh, why not?' The answer to that question would be that I had already had five cups of coffee that morning, and I knew I wouldn't stop until ten. However, I didn't really listen to my common sense, so I came anyway.

I smiled at the friendly jingle of the bell as I stepped inside. The air smelled of apples, vanilla, and cinnamon. 'Eliza must be baking again.' Eliza was one of the pastry chefs here. She didn't really need the job here, she was an accomplished reporter, but her sister ran the shop so she worked here in her spare time.

I waited patiently in line at first, but I was soon sitting at a table with my laptop propped open and on my third Macciato. I had just recieved it, Eliza's sister, Angelica, giving me the third worried look that morning. Alas, she did have a point. I was addicted to caffiene. I looked at the clock on my MacBook. '9:07, I'd better hurry.'  I quickly got up and shoved my stuff into my backpack, I needed at least fifteen minutes to walk to class, and I only had twenty-three minutes to be there. I grabbed my coffee, and was about to leave, when I ran smack into someone.

There was a yelp, a crash, and an "I gotcha!" I said the last one. I looked at what had happened- a waiter, about early twenties in age, was dipped in my arms, my coffee all over his blue and yellow apron. The crash was a tray of dirty dishes, which had fallen to the ground. He looked up at me, and blushed, his freckled face turning a bright pink.

He whispered almost instantly, "beautiful eyes," and my cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. He realized what he said and blushed even harder.

I carefully helped him up. "Sorry I crashed into you, I'm running late." He smiled and brushed himself off. "It's alright, you'd be surprised how often this happens." I gave him a strange look but chose not to question it.

"I'm close friends with the owner, I'll give her a call and pay you back later for the mess I made, because I do really have to go." He shrugged, "I'll still be working here this afternoon if you want to help me out," he said calmly.

"Sounds great," I said, grabbing my things. "See ya then!" I dashed out the door, hoping that I wouldn't win Lamest Excuse Of The Year Award for being late. Again.