Sorry to flood the boards with my stuff, but I had to finish cal's contest because the deadline is TODAY.
Song: Dream, Roy Orbison
Word: pathos
“Hi, Becky. This is Janet… Um, yeah. So, uh, I was just calling to talk. Heh-heh. Yeah, Beck, you’re not going to believe this but Darren called me. No, I’m not joshing you, Beck, so call me pronto, babe, okay? Honestly… I have no idea what to do. I mean, it’s been, what? Nearly a year? Gosh, I can’t believe that! Ugh! Heh-heh, clearly, I need you, Beck, so call me! ‘Kay? Love ya girl. Bye… No wait, I… well, well no, never mind. See ya. Bye.”
Becky sighed and slipped her phone into her raincoat pocket. Impulsively, she ducked into the coffee shop on the corner. It was one of those kitschy places where they hung black and white photographs that looked like emo teenagers had shot them. The daily specials were written on chalkboards and the chairs had ripped orange vinyl seats.
Becky sat down at the bar. A college-aged guy in an apron came up to her.
“Howdy, ma’am,” he said.
“Hi,” she answered shortly. She couldn’t come into one of these places without having some scruffy youth say something strange to her. Where were all the men in Seattle who had real jobs and actually respected themselves?
“What would you like?” he asked, smiling stupidly.
“Black coffee. That’s it.”
Becky rooted around in her bag while the boy got it.
“How ‘bout a scone?” he asked as he poured the coffee into an oversized mug. “You look like you could use a scone.”
Becky’s eyes shot up. He was giving her an appraising, half-intimate look from under his eyelashes.
“I’m fine,” she said firmly. He shrugged and went to wait on two greasy teenagers who had just walked in. This is no place for a self-respecting twenty-eight-year-old woman who actually makes money and grooms herself, she thought.
Becky picked up her bag to leave, but the coffee boy had returned and was saying, “Are you sure? It’s on the house.”
He placed a scone in front of her. It looked delicious. And Becky had an awful hunger-stress-Janet headache. It was probably 3000 Weight Watchers points, but she grabbed it and took a huge bite.
The boy smiled. “I thought so.” Oh no. She had probably done that weird thing where her eyes rolled back in her head when she ate something delicious. Blushing, Becky put down the scone and made a grab for her bag.
The guy came rushing over from the teenagers. “Hey, just wait, wait, wait. Don’t go! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, instead?”
Becky slapped the counter and some of her coffee sloshed out of the mug. “Because I don’t know who you are! What’s with you indie coffee house types, anyway? You want us all to sit around singing Kum-Ba-Yah, smoking pot together and having a grand old time?”
“Hey, I just thought you looked upset…”
“Upset? Of course I’m upset! Everything at work is crazy and it’s not my fault we lost the Peterman account, but everyone’s saying it is. And my dog is shedding all over the house and my parents want to come visit and I haven’t seen them in three years and Janet! Janet the drama queen! Janet calls me today to tell me that Darren called her after a year! I don’t know what to do about that! I don’t know how to help her! And, and I’m out of milk and it won’t stop raining!”
The coffee boy was leaning on the counter, leaning toward her.
“Um… did you know this is Seattle?”
Becky guffawed. “Why did I move here?”
Kit, his nametag said. He smiled at her and took a bite out of her scone. She hid a giggle behind her coffee mug.
“I knew you wanted to tell me.”
He has only just given her the scone after all. If he did move back over to the two teens then you should make it a bit clearer.