Stained

Chapter 3

Against tan skin, fierce blue eyes splattered with green contrast gorgeously with his sharp, defined jaw line and cheekbones, smattered with a faint morning shadow. A matt black metal ring loops through his left eyebrow and bottom lip. A mop of messy, coal black wavy curls lay atop his head.

He has a couple fresh scars on his face, as if he got into a fight recently. A small cut lays under his left eye and another sits atop his bottom lip. A bruise appears to be forming on his right cheekbone.

None of it stains his beauty, though. Not even a little.

I continue mindlessly exploring his face when suddenly, our eyes lock.

I quickly avert mine, embarrassed to have been caught shamelessly gawking at him. I tuck my bottom lip under the top one — a nervous gesture of mine I haven't been able to kick since... well, forever — and look out of the window.

The awkwardness lingering in the air must be more potent than I assumed because, a second later, I feel movement from the passenger seat, followed by the return of music, ten times louder than before.

How nice.

I look to Kenzie. She has finally stopped texting her boyfriend, and the fingers that were mercilessly beating her phone screen moments before are now massaging her temples, her eyes shut tight and face crumpled up as if she is in pain.

My eyes fall to the drink she's supporting, and remembering the last disgusting coffee my best friends made me try, I involuntarily scrunch my nose up in disgust at seeing a drop of dark liquid beside the small opening.

Im starting to feel left out amongst all the coffee lovers in my life. A tiny flicker of hope that Hannah and Sarah find a concoction I like, blooms in my chest.

As if detecting my gaze on her, she opens one eye and cocks a brow at my disgusted expression. "What?"

I school my expression with an apologetic look and tentatively point to her cup.

"You still hate coffee?"

I'm guessing she, like my best friends', held hope I would grow to like it by the time I became an adult.

To be honest, I had too. I thought I would grow to acquire the taste with the necessity to wake up and feel more energised for the day. 

In my defence, I haven't been an adult for very long. Seven and a half months to be exact.

"No," I say with a pout. "Not yet."

She perks up at that, all the pain and tiredness evaporating into the air along with the steam drifting  from her coffee. "Okay you need to try a vanilla mocha with almond milk. It's my all time fave. I only got something stronger today to stay awake."

"What time did you go to sleep?" I ask.

"I didn't. I did an all nighter binge watching on Netflix. The holidays always ruin my sleep schedule," her eyes zoom between me and the phone in her lap like she's trying to convey something.

It takes me a moment to put two and two together: She was on the phone all night to her boyfriend.

I nod my head in understanding.

I pull my phone out to check the time. It's twenty past eight. "Sugar," I sigh, and Kenzie gives me a confused look.  I show her the reason for my sudden alarm.

"We've got so much time."

Panic twists my stomach. "No, you do, I don't."

She scoots across the middle seat until our shoulders are plastered together and I don't even think a thread could fit between us if I tried.