Coffee {Jaya AU}

Chapter 8

***So let's just add some fun romantic tropes into this story and see what happens.

Also, I didn't know what currency to use here, so I just didn't LOL Obscure phrases like "she told him the price" (gosh, I sound like a fifth grader) worked pretty well for this chapter.***

***(Jay's POV)***

Oh. Well, that just shows how distracted of a driver I am.

"I apologize, ma'am," I say quickly. "As you can probably see, I got into, uh, an argument with my girlfriend here."

Nya tenses, but she hides it with her fake sobs into my coat.

Yeah. Um, so maybe it's not the most attractive thing to tell a girl you're in love with her on the day you finally get the guts to speak with her. I'll remember that when I write my next book.

The officer nods. "I can see that. I don't intend to cite you, but would you move your vehicle?"

"Oh, um, yep." How the heck do I hide Nya if I'm moving a vehicle?!

I stand there awkwardly for a moment, but when the officer gives me a weird look, I realize I have no choice but to try and move my car. I hope Nya's good at hiding her face.

I attempt to take a step backward, but Nya doesn't let go. Instead, she sags against me, "crying" harder.

I pat her back. "Honey, you have to let me go." I try to gently pry her off of me, but it doesn't work. She hugs me even tighter.

"Is she okay?" the police officer frowns.

"Oh, yeah, she's fine. She just...um...is really...clingy." Something tells me Nya won't like me saying that, but what choice do I have here?

Nya digs her fingernails into the fabric of my coat, and that just confirms my suspicions that she doesn't take "clingy" as a compliment.

I take several steps toward the driver's side of the car, and Nya drags herself along with me the whole way, crooking her arms around my neck.

Well, this is unusual.

I cough. "Honey, I need to get in the car. Um, can you please let go of me?"

"I'll never let go!" she wails.

"This isn't Titanic, Nya. I just need to move my car so I don't get cited." I awkwardly turn so I can open my car door, flopping backwards into the seat.

Nya falls right on top of me.

"Quit acting so emotional," I hiss. "You act like your dog just got hit. Or like you're on something! The last thing we need is for her to give you a drug test!"

"Make some sort of good excuse, then," she whispers back. "I can't show her my face!"

I look sheepishly up at the skeptical police officer. "I apologize, ma'am. I promise she isn't usually like this. It's just, uh, that she hasn't been feeling well the past two weeks, so we went to the doctor today, and we...um..." I'm trying to figure out what to say without giving her some horrible disease. Kidney stones the size of the city? No, thank you. That's just gross.

I clear my throat. "We found out she's pregnant, and she's...um...upset because...well, you know how hormonal pregnant women can be. And we fought because, um, she...wanted to eat lunch out, but I figured that with a baby on the way, we needed to save as much money as possible."

I swear I hear Nya mutter a murderous threat under one of her sobs.

The officer raises an eyebrow. "So...why are you parked at the church, then?"