Graffiti Boy

Chapter 2 - The Coffee Incident

The only thing I hated more than Mondays was being late for school on Mondays.

I had stayed up late last night mainly because I had been procrastinating. I finally managed to finish the essay at two in the morning, it wasn't my best piece of work but it was finished and that's all that mattered. I immediately dozed off and had completely forgotten to set my alarm.

I don't think I would have woken up if the annoying birds outside my window weren't chirping as loud as they always were.

I woke up at eight and the bell rang at eight-ten. So I literally jumped out of bed and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet. I knew Dad was already gone, so I skipped out on breakfast and just ran out the door.

I ran into the building, praying that the bell hadn't rung already. I was so close to reaching the door to English, but of course, being the klutz I am, I tripped over air and crashed into someone's not-so awaiting arms.

"Ahh!"

I sprung away as quickly as I could and analyzed the damage I had constructed.

It was a boy. And I had spilled his probably scorching-hot coffee all over his shirt. He was wincing and appeared to be trying his best not to cuss me out.

"Geez, I'm so sorry!" Why was I such a klutz? "Here let me uh, help."

I unzipped my bag and found a couple of napkins and quickly dabbed at his shirt. It wasn't doing much.

"You know what, it's fine, it's fine." The boy said, putting his hands up and stepping back.

He was clearly annoyed and I felt horrible. What a lovely start to my day.

"I'm really sorry, I'll buy you a coffee the next time I see you."

The boy muttered under his breath, "I hope that I don't."

How rude, "I heard that."

He shook his head and smirked. Then his face fell as if he had realized something. He searched my face as if he was trying to memorize it. I felt a bit self-conscious.

Did I have something on my face?

I turned to leave to save myself from further embarrassment, "Uh, I'm gonna be late, I'll catch you— "

The boy grasped my arm gently, turning me back around to face him,"—Wait, aren't you that girl who was hiding behind those garbage bins last night?"

Then the realization hit me.

"You're the smells-pungent-like-paint boy?"

Great. He was in my school too?

"Um, I guess so...? Surprised to see you're still alive."

I took a moment to observe his appearance. He had dark brown hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. He was honestly very attractive. High cheekbones, jawline, the lot. How had I never seen him at school before?

The boy chuckled, taking me away from my thoughts, "You've got a little drool over there."

I scoffed. Cocky kid.

"What were you doing outside that late, anyway?" Cocky kid asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," I countered.

"I was out looking for inspiration for my latest art piece."

I looked at him and scoffed. Sure he was an artist, sure.

"What were you doing? You weren't digging in the garbage bins, were you? I wouldn't be surprised though, you do look like trash at the moment."

"Excuse me!"