A very long time ago, there was a prince and he loved his princess more than words could ever describe. They had stood side by side in battle, danced under the moonlight and married each other. She was his perfect match and he was hers. ‘The children we’ll raise’ she would think. ‘The adventures that we’ll have’ he thought. They were made for each –
“Mrs. Sting, this isn’t realistic!” I called out, we’re reading a princess love story, and it’s just so fake. How did we ever think these stories were real? I guess in our defense, we were kids and that’s us out but still. But that was no excuse for all the English teachers that are reading this to the students. I mean really, they were the perfect match, come on. They probably fought behind closed doors, like everyone does. I want to see a story about that, the after of all the “love” because I can’t believe this is even remotely real. True love, that doesn’t exist. True love is a facade, no one is really in love with someone else. They just found someone they can tolerate.
“Summer, it’s a story and it could have very well been real.” Yep, summer. Can it please be summer already? But this is what I mean, somehow all these teachers are convinced that is real, or could be real. How could this possibly be real? That’s the only way I can even think. I used to try and contemplate whether this could be real or not, but it’s not. And the fact that my boyfriend broke my heart last year, well it probably doesn’t help.
“This couldn’t possibly be real, where is the proof that it is? The divorce rate is higher now than ever before because people have realized that love isn’t real.” And thankfully this class would be over in about 30 seconds, but I’m sure this teacher isn’t going to let me get away with holding up the class, not that I don’t do this everyday anyways.
And there’s the bell. “Summer, let’s have a talk.” Yep, always the ‘talk’ about how I’m distributing the rest of the class, about how I’m not allowing my fellow students to learn, yep. I’ve heard this for the past 3 months because I can’t just shut my mouth and be quite, nope. I’m probably going to get detention again, wonder what I’ll have to do this time. Scrap gum? Write my name 50 times on the chalkboard? Yuk. Maybe she’ll come up with some good this time. I’m in too deep now, because I actually want detention.
“If you’re going to give me detention, just get it over with. I really don’t need or want a lecture today. You know how I feel about these stories Mrs. Sting.” Yes, I’m not really one for holding my tongue. Yes, I’ve pretty much made it to the friendship level with Mrs. Sting. “So what will it be today? See coach and run 10 laps? Organize books in the library?” Oh please say the library, that’s easy. Just hide my phone is the book and pretend to be interested in the book all the sudden, switch ever so often and then it’s time to go home.
“What? Oh, actually you aren’t in trouble. Well, you are but not really. How about you run off campus real quick and get us coffee? I’ll treat and when you get back I want to discuss the books with you, discuss the meanings, and explain the histories to you. Okay?” What. Just. Happened. She wants me to go get coffee? I’m sure she can tell my expression that I’m lost and my brains trying to wrap around what she said because she says, “I promise it’s not some sort of trick, I just don’t think you helping sort papers or clean locker doors, is really helping anything. But we need caffeine to get through this.”
“Um, okay, sure. I’ll run and get us coffee. What would you like?” This is day may never make sense.
“A small black coffee with vanilla and you get whatever you want.” Handing me a $20, she smiles politely, and I’m still trying to figure out is she is being serious or not. And I’m guessing she can still read it on my face. “I promise, not tricks, not schemes, just coffee.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in probably 30 minutes. We’ll, ah, discuss fiction. Princess stories. Whatever.” And with that, I basically bolted out the door. I figure that if I get out the door before she changes her mind, at least I’ll have coffee to help with the waxing of the bathroom floors I may be doing today. What’s the point in all this? I mean, I’ve made my feelings pretty clear on the subject of love. In my 17 years of life, almost 18 years, I’ve never seen true love. My parents are divorced and fight regularly. No one in my family is really married regarless, all divorced and bitter. But whatever teacher says, I’ll talk about it. I’ll really give her a piece of what I think about her stories.
Rounding the corner, the parking lot is finally in view. My baby is sitting in front row parking today, not that many cars are really around now, but it was defiantly nice this morning. Walking out here I realize that I really don’t want to have to come back. I mean, great I’m leaving campus, getting free coffee and I’m not reorganizing the basketballs, but do I really need to come back? I could always just go get my coffee and go home. Give the change to Mrs. Sting tomorrow in class. It’s not like I’m going to be anywhere butting sitting in class again tomorrow. No, I thought, you need to just do what the teacher asked you and come back to ‘discuss’ the stories. Why can’t I be a real badass? That’s what I want, bad asser-y, but I’m just not.
Let’s see, where is the closest coffee shop? Oh, that’s right, there is only one in this town. Thankfully, it’s a not a chain store, it’s a mom and pop type place. I’m actually now quite sure who owns it because no one has every actually seen the owners, not even the workers. At least that’s what Kate said when she worked here last summer. She told me that when it was paydays, she tried to come in early just catch them but it seemed that no matter how early she got there, the check was always there before her. She said it was almost like magic, and I said it was probably just luck.
“The Beans.” So. Freaking. Orginal. This place is actually pretty cool, despite I crazy name. When you walk in, your nose is hit with a strong smell of coffee being made and cookies being baked. Looking to the left you see the stairs that go up to the second floor where the books are. The amazing thing about this place is the masterpiece of a book story above us. It makes you feel as if you are in a book, where the characters are just checking out books. On the first floor, it’s your basic coffee shop. You’ve got the set-up, espresso machine, coffee makers, pastries, and thankfully not shelves full of merchandise on sale. The tables are nice, they have a few sofa’s and a few over-sized chairs, but what I love the most out of it all. Even the bookstore.
There are no TV’s and that’s what keeps this place from being overrun with teenagers. It’s mostly college kids from the town over or the straggler that just grabs a cup of coffee to go. But there aren’t kids sitting at every table, talking too loudly, getting up and down. It’s peaceful and relaxing. It’s a place I defiantly call a safe haven for when my parents used to fight at home. I’ve come her for the past 4 years, ever since I was a lonely little 12-year-old. My parents had been fighting for a month, and even though I had grown used to it, it still bothered me. For the most part, I just locked myself in my room and tried to shut them out. But one day I could stand it anymore, they were yelling for what seemed like hours. I got out of bed, grabbed my phone and backpack, the five dollars I had lunch and went out my window. I walked to the town center, not really knowing where I was going, but knowing I needed to find a place to hide out for a few hours. That’s when I came across, the coffee shop, the place my life really changed. That day I met my two best friends, Landon and Lynn, twins of course.
They were sitting at a table, fusing over a book and I sat down at a table a few places down. “I want to read this book, Lan!” I remember her yelling at him, and him shaking his head at her like she may not see his over-exaggerated motion. Lan? What an odd name, I remember thinking.
“Lynn, come on. I’m not done yet. I’ll let you read it once I’m finished with the next chapter.” So, Lynn and Lan. Huh, weird names. At this point, they were playing tug a war with the book, and all the sudden I had a giant Harry Potter book, sitting in my coffee cup, and the coffee sitting all over the table. Before I could react, the twins were standing in front of me, apologizing profoundly, helping to clean the mess they’d made. It was basically history after that, they apologized over and over, they offered to buy me another cup (which they did), and then they sat down at the table and we talked for hours. They were always so easy going, and I always felt so comfortable to tell them my problems. Now, four years later and we’re all best friends.
Do you know what the hardest part about ordering coffee is? Having to look at a menu and try and remember what you order, even though you’ve ordered the same thing for the past a year. “Can I have a small coffee and a medium vanilla latte?” The same thing, nothing ever new, because new is scary.
“Yes ma’am, that’ll be $5.87” Handing him the cash, I notice that there is a new guy working behind the counter. His back is currently turned towards me, so I honestly can’t tell is he’s new. He looks different than most body around here. Most guys have wide leg stance, a think Texan draw, light hair, tanned skin, just for starters. This guy, he’s standing pretty tall, and his skin is the perfect tan, while is hair is dark brown.
“Ma’am?” Only then do I realize that I’ve just been caught staring at this mysterious man. “Here’s your change, the drinks will be at the end.” And that’s when it hits me, I’m going to be standing next to the mystery man, he’ll probably my coffee, oh man, maybe I need a deflator. He still hasn’t looked up since I walked in the store. Finally, I see two coffees being pushed my direction.
“Sarah?” And my dreams are crushed because those aren’t mine and now I get to stand and wait and watch him. Great. My phone buzzes in my pocket, a text message from Lynn,
‘Are you still coming to Jessica’s party tonight?’ Shit, I totally forget about it. I really don’t want to go but I know I need to socialize more than anything right now. ‘Of course babe, I’ll meet you at your house, 9?’ I’ll be done by then I hope. I can’t imagine it taking that long to “discuss”. ‘Okie dokie!’ Oh, I love her.
Realizing I still haven’t gotten my coffee, I start to try and get someone attention when I realize both mine and Mrs. Sting’s coffee are sitting on the bar, okay that’s dude for calling my name. Grabbing the coffee cups, I walk over to the bar and grab a few sugar and some half and half for Mrs. Sting.
As I’m walking toward the door, I realize that my name isn’t written on this cup. One the part where my name would have been, ‘You’re beautiful.” My heart swells at this and turning around I look eyes with the main who wrote these words. The mysterious man, the dark haired man, thought I was beautiful. We locked eyes, and help them there for a few moments. Taking it all in, but really noticing his eyes. Dark brown, laced with blue streaks, eyes that I could get lost in forever. My breath defiantly caught and when he gave a curt nod, and I almost passed out.
As if reading my mind, he was there instantly, and I realized how strong his body was. Under his bigger shirts, is a man of huge size and odd school living. “Are you okay?” He asked, again losing my mind on top of the rubble.
“Y-yea-yeah.” I stumbled out and laughed a little bit. “I’m fine, thank you.” But even with the polite goodbye, he didn’t seem to be letting me go. He just started into my eyes, The spell lasted 30 seconds before he started apologizing.
“Oh my, I’m so awfully sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” The magic was still there but gone, hidden behind the boy.
“It’s okay, I’m just running back to school. I’ll see you around?” I asked, probably sounding more hopeful then I should.
“Of course summer, I’ll be here, waiting.” He winked at me, and I almost needed him to come hold me again. But he didn’t, and as I was walking out the door, I looked back one time and I saw him watching me. Before I could get through the door, I had to have one last look. What suprised me the most, was how close he was when I turned around, staring in my eyes, or my soul at this point. “Summer?”
“You are very beautiful.” And with that, I kept walking to my car and back to school. Mind racing, try to decipher what had just happened. Where did he even come from anyways? I’d been in the shop just last week and hadn’t seen him. Maybe he was working a different shift, yeah okay maybe. But there was one thing that I knew for sure, I was going to be spending a lot of time at The Beans.
I hope that y’all enjoyed this! I defiantly want to keep writing this story and see where it takes them! Also, if you can think of a name, leave it in the comments? I’d love some help with that!
Love, Megan Anne