Categories > Original > Drama0 Reviews
Two opposite girls end up as roommates. Can they live together?
I grumbled and none too softly. I’ve had the morning from Hell. I barely scraped enough sleep together to catch a few hours before my ungodly alarm clock screeched like a harpy, waking the dead and me. Until I swiftly hit the snooze button with practiced ease. And hit the snooze button again. And again. Finally, I turned the damned thing off, ready to get up. Until I fell back asleep. Of course, I woke up late. With a start, I jerked awake, gasped at the time, sprung out of bed, sent everything to eternal damnation including myself and my job and my toothbrush. I threw myself together quickly, looking like Hel herself, and I stumbled into the corner coffee house, Espresso Bean, to get my daily necessity – Java juice, the nectar of the gods.
I grumbled again, digging into the far crevices of my purse, searching desperately for some change that might have drifted in there like lost souls. No such luck. I dished out my wallet. It was pay day soon, so my wallet only had singles and receipts to feed it. It sagged in my hand like someone who had lost too much weight too fast and the skin was still used to its former bulk. I unzipped it and had enough change to get a small plain coffee, the cheapest item on the menu.
But that’s not the only reason why I grumbled. Despite my awful morning (although getting up early is always Hell), despite my penny-scrounging, I despised her most of all. I shot her with imaginary but deadly laser beams into the back of her head as we waited in line. This nameless girl about my age was the source of my petty hatred for no other reason except for her beauty and feminine charm, which I had neither. I felt like a complete ogre compared to her.
She was beautiful, but not in that phony, dolled-up, manicured, I-get-a-Brazilian-wax way. She didn’t need all that to be the prettiest girl in the room. It was a natural beauty that you could only be blessed with. I could swear on a Bible that she was the daughter of Aphrodite.
I watched with mild interest and distaste as she received her order. The boy behind the counter reached over the metal coffee-makers to hand the drink to her. He flashed her a winning smile, but I don’t know if she saw since he was barely taller the coffee-makers.
“A grande Chai Tea Latte,” he announced like he said something important.
“Thanks,” she said in genuine truth and smiled. But she did more than that. She made all those small movements like the tilt of the head, the corners of the mouth turned up just enough, and the gleam of the light in her eyes. She had all the grace of nymph and the feminine charms of a siren. Now can you see why I hate her?
I jerked myself back to where I was. The guy at the cashier waited impatiently with a scowl on his face. Apparently, I didn’t have the same impression on the opposite sex.
“A tall, plain coffee,” I said rather dejectedly. I was embarrassed that I couldn’t afford anything else and now he knew because no one ordered the cheapest thing on the menu unless that’s all that they can buy.
“Will that be all?” he asked automatically as he rang up the order.
After giving him my handful of change, I moved over to the other side of the counter to receive my coffee. Finally, I got my coffee with not even a glance from the short boy behind the counter. Not that I really wanted him to look at me. I mean, I would have to be a pedophile to think he was cute. Sigh, I have always narrowly avoided eating sour grapes on many occasions.
I now headed to the counter with the creamers and sugars while grumbling at my very pathetic little coffee. As I added some cream so that I could cool down my coffee, Aphrodite’s daughter flaunted over to get more Sweet & Low. I watched her in my peripheral vision, hating her even more up close. Well, the next thing I know, her elbow flies in my direction and my pathetic coffee becomes my precious coffee that spilled all over me. I gaped in astonishment, feeling the hot coffee burn then quickly cool down so I felt damp and clammy.
Aphrodite’s daughter, who turned out to be cursed with clumsiness, covered her mouth at what she just did.
“I am so sorry,” she breathed. “I’ll help you clean that up.” She grabbed a fistful of napkins to sop up the excess coffee on the counter all the while apologizing over and over. I secretly rolled my eyes while I dabbed at my ruined clothes.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said offhandedly. I wanted to yell at her, but I didn’t want to make a bigger scene then this already was.
“Oh, I am so sorry (this was probably the fifteenth time she said this), let me buy you another coffee.”
“You don’t need to do me any more favors.” I said bitterly and decisively threw my soggy napkin in the trash and sped away.