Broken Pencils

Chapter 1: Caramel Latte

Chapter 1: Caramel Latte
The warm summer afternoon light poured in from the bookshop window and I stretched out into the warmth. I was currently sitting in a very uncomfortable position with my favorite book titled, "Diversity" carefully positioned on the top of my knee. This the fifty-sixth time I've read it.

Yes, I've counted.

I slowly pushed myself out of the chair I was sitting in, and tentatively eased my weight onto my feet in case one of my sleeping limbs decided to give out on me. I stretched, yawned, and then decided it was time for a coffee break. With my book carefully tucked under my arm, I made my way to the little cafe nestled in the corner of the bookshop.

As I approached the counter, I noticed a very attractive young boy, about my age, working the register. He must be new, I thought to myself.

"Hi, can I get a caramel latte, please?" I asked the boy standing behind the register.

"Sure, can I get your na..." fading off in the middle of his sentence as he looked up at me. Then he seemed to forget what he was talking about. And I forgot what I was doing there.

His eyes were bright green, like a meadow that had just seen days of rain and was now blooming with life. He had long eyelashes, that brushed his cheekbone, and a well defined jawline that seemed sharp. I sucked in a breath, and he did too. His hair was a toffee brown that seemed artistically tousled without effort.

I then remembered what I came for.

"Oh, um, so what will my total be?" I asked, snapping out of my little daze.

"Oh, right," he muttered, his cheeks turning the slightest shade of pink. "It'll be $3.04."

I dug through my wallet and handed him the correct change.

"Can I just get your name to write on the cup?" he asked, still a little embarrassed.

"Oh, s-sure. It's Alana." I sputtered. Never have I ever been good with guys.

His eyes sparkled with the information.

"Would I possibly be able to get a number, too?" his eyes begged.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"M-my number?" I choked out.

"Yes, your number." he replied with a nervous voice.

I quickly grabbed a napkin from the counter, and rummaged around in my purse for a pen. My cheeks felt flushed as I began to write out my number onto the napkin. My penmanship was shaky, to say the least. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't call or text me because he couldn't read it.

I handed the napkin over to him, with a nervous laugh.

"Well, here you go," I said, trying to keep the nervousness out of my tone.

He looked at me through his long eyelashes, and gave me a shy smile.

"Thanks." He handed my drink over with a blush and said, "Next time, it's on me."

I choked out a thank you and scampered away before my heart could become a mess on the floor.

~~~

I sat very still, in the driver's seat of my car, listening to the rapid beat of my heart when, a sudden realization hit me.

I DIDN'T GET HIS NAME.

The little turd got my name and my number but I didn't even get his name. I banged my fist against the steering wheel and let out a frustrated sigh. I wasn't even smart enough to check his name tag. Still frustrated and slightly flustered, I started up my car and headed home.