"I'd like for my identity to stay hidden. I don't want any interviews or about the author sections. Just the book.", I told my publisher. "Are you sure? This is predicted to be one of the most popular books of the year.", she replies.
"I've made my decision. If I decide to reveal my identity in the future, then I will.", with that I walked out of the building and to the curb to hail a taxi. I whistle and like magic, a taxi pulls up. "First time that's happened.", I mutter and get in, shutting the door after me. "Where to?", the cab driver shouts to me as if he's deaf. "Nearest coffee house, but nothing too shabby.", I tell him. His eyes rolling were the most obvious thing as he began to drive. About fifteen minutes later we pull up at a Starbucks next to a subway station. That's very convenient. "It'll be thirty bucks.", the driver says to me with a smirk playing on his lips. I groan at the overpriced charge and dig a twenty and a ten out of my wallet to hand to him. He snatches it out of my hands and commands me to get out. A few eye rolls later, I do and walk inside of the Starbucks. As usual, there's a long line so I wait until it's my turn to order.
"Caffe Misto, grande. To go, please.", I tell the barista. "Name?", she asks in reply. "Miles.", I respond. She nods as I walk to a corner to wait for my coffee. "MILES.", someone calls out. The voice. The voice. It's all too familiar. She suddenly approaches me, "Miles, babe. Where were you this morning?", she inquires. Natalie, my girlfriend of three months. "I went to see my publisher this morning, I told you that... Wait, did you follow me here?", I become scared and angry at the same time. "Of course not! I just came for coffee.", she says quickly. "On our first date you told me you don't drink Starbucks because it gives in to the stereotype of the typicality of young women.", I shoot back at her. She chews on her lower lip furiously, a nervous habit of hers. "I-I just. I didn't know where you were!" , her lower lip is swollen and quivering like she's about to cry. Shit, she's about to cry.
I grab her by the arm and drag her outside. "Natalie, you can't keep doing this. I've put up with your shit for the past three months and I'm sick of it. You can't just keep following me whenever you're lonely. If we're going to work, we have to be able to trust each other.", I pour out the feelings I've held in for three months now. "I do trust you! I'm sorry! Please, don't leave me.", she falls into my unsuspecting arms and begins to cry. People begin to stare.
"My drink is ready.", I say as I push her off me and walk back inside.
YOU ARE READING
Anonymous || c. soon
Teen Fictionanons aren't always bad people, and it's sad that most of them are categorized under that term.
