Page 21 of Escaping Our Reality

CRUTCH

Kill me now.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

The next thing you know, I’ll be getting a nose ring, wearing a cardigan, and asking someone to go to the art museum with me.

I stare up at the neon sign of the pretentious coffeehouse, silently cursing my life. And silently cursing the girl who made me rethink my decision to come here. It’s not like I hadn’t thought about it before, but I guess it took Lulu calling me out to finally make me dive outside of my comfort zone and come here. Hoisting the computer bag on my shoulder, I begrudgingly open the door.

Even at night, the line snakes around the front of the store, and the back is filled with tables and people. People reading, people working on computers, people softly chatting. At least it seems like everyone is minding their own business. I make note that several people have empty cups in front of them. So, I guess they don’t kick you out once you’re finished downing their fancy drinks. Good. That’s what I was hoping for.

The girl behind the counter is pretty. Brunette. Knit cap on her head. When she finally focuses on me, her body language changes and she leans forward against the counter.

Of course, she does.

I can never decide if being good-looking is a blessing or a curse.

“What can I get you?”

“Large coffee. Regular.” I grab the wallet from my back pocket.

“Our house brew today is the Hazelnut Smokehouse. Is that okay?”

Are you serious? “Uhhh, sure.”

Licking her lips, she rings me up. “That’ll be $4.71.”

“What! For plain coffee? Are you serving gold dust in the damn thing?” I’m not joking. This is fucking absurd.

Of course, she thinks I’m joking and laughs hysterically while making change for my $5 bill. My hard earned $5 bill.

“I know, right? I had to cut back to only one a day. Why don’t you find a seat? I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.”

I grunt, pocketing the coins and mumbling thanks.

One day, I’ll spend $5 on a cup of coffee and not even think twice about it. One day.

My eyes flicker around the tables, trying to find the best place to work. Every table has someone at it. These people make me nervous. I feel like they’re judging me while they’re not even looking at me.

And that’s when it happens.

The dream and nightmare that I fought all night long after driving Lulu to her car last night collide in a tsunami. Engulfing me. Drowning me.

“So, youdohave some common sense. Decided a coffee shop is a better place to work than a pill party, huh?”

Slowly, I spin around to face her.

I meant it when I said I hope we never see each other again. But for some reason, an exhale of relief pours from my lungs when I see her standing there, straight back, stiff shoulders, little chin pointed in the air. She has her hair pulled back tonight, halfway up and halfway down. Her designer jeans and sweater form fit to every curve and long line. But what looks even better is the little smirk cutting across her face.

“Someone pointed out the free Wi-Fi. Thought I’d give it a try.”

Her eyes travel the length of my body. “Well, all the tables are full. You can sit with me, if you’d like.” She points to a small table in the back corner.

She doesn’t wait for my response. She simply turns on her heels and walks away.

And me, being the idiot that I am, I follow her.

I pull out my computer and notes, and she pretends to read in a book, flicking her ink pen against her notebook. I quickly glance at the cover.Jane Eyre.I read that book. Years ago.

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