The Unattainable (The Foreplay to Forgiveness)

CHAPTER ONE - LUCKYTHON

"Addie!" Amanda called outside our dorm room. "Hurry up, dude! I'm itching to run!"

I stumbled on a pile of laundry, tripping over a belt. Seriously, Amanda's clutter can be life-threatening sometimes. Biting off a curse, I let out a sigh instead. I hastily tied my long, black hair into a ponytail and put on my running shoes.

"Adelaine!"

I hurried to the door. "Jesus, Manda, what's the rush? We're not joining a marathon, are we?"

"The sun's getting high. You know I don't like it when it's already too hot." She said, making a face.

I locked our door and handed her the keys since my yoga pants didn't have any pockets. "If I didn't know you better I'd say you're being a whiny ass." We walked down the hallway, still bickering.

"Who's whining?"

"You."

"I don't whine, Addie," she said. "I'm just complaining."

I smirked and dropped it. Today's Friday, our usual day of working out. When I say working out I meant running, well at least for the both of us. When we were freshmen we applied membership to a gym near the university campus. It was Manda's idea---she was a bit chubby back then and was pretty much determined to slim down. Unfortunately, she would not do it without me so I tagged along. When we got to our third year, our schedules were pretty tight and we decided to find another way to stay fit. We ran every Friday morning because it was our only vacant time together.

We reached the lounge area and a bunch of young folks were chatting in groups. I didn't made eye contact with any of them as Amanda and I strode past the glass front doors. The weather outside seemed favorable.

"C'mon," Amanda urged eagerly. "Let's have Frappes afterwards."

We went down the front stairs and jogged outside the campus. We rounded a curb and took our usual street. We ran for a few miles and after less than an hour, we headed back to St. Andrew's street. We stopped over to have coffee at Starbucks, energized from our run. We had a good start that morning, and I was positive that the rest of the day would be great.

"Here you go," said Paul, the barista at the counter as he handed our large Frappuccinos. I wouldn't have known Paul if not for Manda. They shared a couple of classes, I think. Paul worked part-time at Starbucks.

Chatting over coffee at Starbucks became our routine after every run. It was our way of cooling down our bodies after a vigorous physical activity, an I wasn't sure if this habit was healthy at all. I wasn't exactly addicted to caffeine, but after getting in college I realized the necessity of stimulant drinks. The "yummy" part was an added bonus.

After tipping Paul generously, we waved goodbye at him and left. But before I could turn around completely, I saw the whole "winking" act of Manda to the guy. I giggled. If I didn't know her better I would have said she was interested in him, I mean, who wouldn't be? Paul was cute with almond-brown eyes that matched the color of his curly hair. As if those little dimples weren't enough to charm girls. But Paul wasn't my type, nor Manda's. Manda happened to be lesbian. Cute pixie hair, broad shoulders, porcelain skin (probably the reason why she's not so fond of the sun coz her skin tended to burn easily), and a pretty face completed the package. She was taller than me too, because I'm petite. We met for the first time at the University two years ago, we were roommates and we clicked right away. Her sexuality never bothered me in the slightest. In fact, I found it extremely interesting.

We sat in two of the outdoor seats and enjoyed our coffee. It was already nine o'clock in the morning, and yet the street wasn't busy. We talked about her hellacious classes (she's taking Forensics Science by the way), giggled over her obsession of her female professor and my lack of enthusiasm to the boys. She joked about me joining her club.

I laughed at that and I found myself contemplating her observations. It wasn't like I'm not fond of men---actually, I had a boyfriend back in high school. But the last boyfriend of mine was actually the reason why I stopped interacting with men. I had a bad experience with my ex, and he was my first love. We grew up together and attended the same High School. I was his muse, he said. We fell in love. He broke my heart. A typical love story. I still wondered if I'll ever get over him. He was boyish and adorable, but college had created a new lifestyle to him that he wasn't able to control. College had ruined him.

"Uh, earth to Addie?" Manda called softly, pulling me from my thoughts. She was telling me something and I realized I wasn't paying attention.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Throwing an exasperated look, she pointed at the maroon-colored cafe building across the street that had a wide parking space at the front. Its huge glass windows were tinted so you couldn't see the interior design of the room nor the customers inside. I scanned the place, trying hard to see she wa pointing at specifically. Heaven Cafe---the name of the place---was relatively known in the area for its vintage structure and old fashion-flavored coffee, pastries and wine. I could name some of my favorite pastries in the shop, but right now I was lost to what Manda is saying. I gave her a confused look.

"I said 'who do you think owns that car?'" she delivered the question again.

I looked back and spotted the car she was referring to. Right at the corner of the parking area was a glossy, sleek, black car that was strangely settled in between two Honda cars. Its sporty and powerful design lended it a striking appearance, thus making it stand out among the other parked vehicles. It looked like it didn't belong there---it DIDN'T belong there. A modern luxury car in a vintage cafe? Strange.

Manda nipped at her straw, absently chewing it while her eyes never left the car.

"I notice that car everyday. I mean everytime we come here, that car is also there." She bent over and whispered ridiculously, "Who did you say was the owner of that cafe again? You mentioned it to me the last time we grabbed some wine there."

I thought for a moment. I did know the owner of the cafe by name. Sheila---the girl who works there mentioned it when I asked her about their chef and she babbled about her ancient bosses.

"I'm sure Sheila hadn't mentioned a young fella. She was clear to point out that her bosses are oldies."

I recalled her saying that that is how they got the vintage idea. They hired young people only for the interior, baking, management and services.

"Could be the manager," I guessed.

"I bet it's Bugatti. Like those insane wheels in the movies Fast and Furious."

I hid my smirk. "I didn't know you like cars."

"Well, I am actually more interested to know the contents of the owner's pockets."

"I bet he has those problems where his legs go numb for sittin' on those thick wallets."

We laughed.

We stayed there for ten more minutes cracking up jokes on rich people. By the time we're done with our drinks we headed back to the dorm.

A/N: So, the setting is very light. But I intend this to be dark, we'll get to the dirty soon..