My Coffee Girl

Chapter 2: That Girl

I woke up to the obnoxious blaring of my alarm.

I grunted and slammed my palm on the alarm clock to switch it off. I didn't want a furious Erica barging into my room with a bird-nest hair to scream just how cruel I was to wake her up at an ungodly hour. She was incredibly intimidating when she flew into a rage. Trust me. Hell broke loose whenever she raised her voice. Dragging my heavy limbs out of the bed, I drifted to the bathroom to get changed. 

Damn...Erica was right. I looked like hell. 

I took in my sunken eyes, the dimmed chocolate brown orbs staring dully back at me. My jet black hair was a mess. The spikes stood up in every direction, like an ugly sea urchin. I was by no means muscular. But my body was fairly toned from the amount of swimming and cycling I had done. 

I grimaced at my own reflection in the mirror. A voice in the back of my head whispered tauntingly, "No wonder Caroline left you. You look like a total loser." 

I pushed the voice away and stepped into the shower. That was just my insecurity speaking. Yet I couldn't help but wonder as a steady stream of warm water hit my skin. Was I perhaps not masculine enough to give her a sense of security? Or did I not give her enough attention to feel loved? 

Well. It had happened anyways. 

I put on a navy blue T-shirt and some white jeans, completed with a pair of black converse shoes before heading downstairs for breakfast. I sniffed the air...waffles. My stomach rumbled at the thought of a hearty good breakfast. Quickening my steps, I reached the dining room to find my family had already started breakfast without me. 

"Aha! There you are!" My mum exclaimed cheerfully as she stood up and hurried to the kitchen to serve my breakfast. "I was beginning to worry you might be late for school." 

"It's still pretty early though," I called out to her as I slipped into my seat next to Erica. Erica didn't look too happy. She was busy stabbing her waffles with a fork repeatedly. I wondered what had the waffles done to upset her. 

My dad seemed to be thinking the same thing as I did. A frown had etched its way onto his high forehead, just below his receding hairline as he took a glance at Erica. He seemed to be debating if he should ask his daughter she was sane or not. 

He cleared his throat and leaned a little closer to her. "Erica."

Erica startled. She looked up and asked, "Yes?"

My dad asked in all seriousness, "Why are you putting your waffles to grave?" 

Erica's expression was priceless. Disbelief crossed her face and she looked more than ready to murder Dad. I burst out laughing loudly, my laughter soon joined by my dad's booming one. Mum came rushing out of the kitchen with a plate of fresh waffles for me.

"Now, now. Don't you guys dare making fun of Erica," she chided us fussily. "Hurry up, Zane. Dad will be fetching you to school today while I'll have to go to work with Erica."