coffee shop attraction - a short story

I

Chris and I met at a coffee house one fall day in late September. I was ordering a chai latte when he approached me.
"They make the best chai in town here," he whispered.
Startled, I looked up at him. "Yeah, I know," I said with a sheepish grin.
He was beautiful. Soft, curly, brown hair fell gently over his hard, chiseled face.
He wore a torn, tie-dyed shirt that looked as if it hadn't been washed in years and he stood with unreserved confidence. I was wildly attracted to him.
Before I knew it, I was back at his apartment, naked, drenched in sweat, and overwhelmed with guilt. He slept while I laid on his cold, hard mattress feeling sick to my stomach. I could feel the vomit rising up in my throat; it was the latte I drank a few hours earlier. I had to get out of there. Slowly getting out of his bed, I threw on my clothes and snuck out of his bedroom.
"Kirsten? Where are you going?"
"Shit," I thought to myself. I didn't want to look at him. I was ashamed and felt like a whore.
"Umm, I have to go," I responded quickly.
He stood in the doorway of his room, naked, free, fearless.
"Well, can I call you," he asked.
I stood in the hallway examining his face. "Was he serious," I questioned silently, "did he actually want to see me again?" His magnetic blue eyes pierced through me like daggers, which made me slightly uneasy.
"Uh, ok yea sure," I muttered.
He motioned towards me. Grabbing a pen and paper of the computer desk that sat in the corner of the hall, he handed it to me.
"Here, write your number down."
II
"So, when do you guys see each other again," Karen asked.
It had been three weeks since Chris and I met and we had been talking daily ever since.
"I'm not sure," I replied. "I guess we're supposed to get together sometime this weekend. Catch a movie or something."
Karen and I sat across from each other in the dimly lit bar room talking quietly. She was my best friend, my confidant, the sister I never had.
"So, how was the sex? You never told me."
"Karen," I squealed, practically spitting my beer all of the table.
"What? It's not like it's anything new," she said as she lit a cigarette.
She was right, it wasn't anything new. I always told her about the guys I slept with. Except this time, it was a little different. Maybe it was because Chris and I did it the first time we met, or maybe it was because I actually like him. Either way, I didn't want to discuss it.
"Never mind about that," I said trying to avoid the subject at all costs. "Can we talk about something else please?"
"Whatever."
III
I couldn't believe what was happening. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe it was because I had been under a lot of stress lately and that's why I'm late. Regardless, I was scared and had to talk to someone. I picked up my cell phone and called Karen right away.
"Hey, what's up Hun?"
"Hey you gotta minute?"
"Yea, why what's going on?"
I hesitated. I didn't want to tell her, but I had to tell someone. "I'm, I'm late, if you know what I mean," I stammered.
"What? What do you mean your late," she snapped.
"Well, it's been five days now. I don't know."
"Oh my god Kirsten! I thought you used protection."
My faced burned with shame. I lied to her. We didn't. It was bad enough I slept with someone I barely knew the first day we met let alone not use any sort of protection, how could I admit to her I was such a whore? I lied once more.
"W-we did. I don't know for sure. Anything can happen you know!"
"Alright, well, I'll come over as soon as I can. We'll go get you a test, okay?"
IV
I sat on the cold edge of my bathtub staring at the instructions of the pregnancy test. I didn't want to take it but I knew I had to. One line not pregnant, two lines pregnant. I took the test.
"Well, what does it say," Karen shouted through the locked door.
"It's not ready yet," I called.
It probably was but I didn't want to look. I felt sick to my stomach. Slowly, I picked up the thin stick that held my destiny in its hand. I paused. Opening the door, Karen looked at me with sympathy. She already knew. I handed the stick to her and began to cry.
V
"Well, I-I have money," he mumbled. "I mean, ya know, for whatever you decide to do."
"W-what," I stammered.
My mind raced. Did he really just say that? Chris and I had only slept together once. We had only knew each other a few weeks and I'm pregnant with his child. All he had to say was that he had money. What did he mean by that? Did he want me to abort the baby? Was he willing to pay for it if I decided to keep it? What could I say to that?
"W-what do you mean, you have money? We need to discuss this, Chris."
"Yea, yea I know. Well, I mean I-," he paused for awhile. "Listen Kirsten, you gotta understand I can't have a kid right now. I just started this new job, I'm trying to buy a house, I'm 23 years old for Christ's sake. I-I just…"
Was he serious? Did he really think I was prepared for this as well? I could feel my face turning red with fury. Although every curse word flowed through my head, I didn't want to start an argument. We agreed to meet at my apartment the next day to discuss further action on what to do about out newly found problem.
VI
Chris arrived at my apartment the next morning bearing a frown and a cup of coffee. He slinked through my doorway looking around for another person.
"Is there someone here," he snapped cockily.
"No!"
Irritated, I slammed the door behind him. The sound of his voice made me sick. Suddenly, the beauty I saw in him that day at the coffee shop and the amazing conversations we held on the phone with one another, all slipped my mind and transformed into a ball of hatred.
"So, what's up," he asked as he slumped on my plush couch. "Are we agreeing on this?"
"Agreeing on what? We haven't eve talked about anything yet," I screamed.
"Alright, alright. Calm down," he barked back. "So, lets discuss this."
Chris and I talked for what seemed like hours. We couldn't agree on anything. He wanted to terminate the baby, I didn't know what I wanted. We weighed every possibility until finally, we agreed on what to do.
"Alright, so I'll see you tomorrow?"
Opening the door to let Chris out, I stared at him. His eyes were warm and flashed me the 'I really do care about you' look.
"Yea, I'll see you tomorrow." he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried out the door.
VII
I stared out the window watching the flashes of the farms and pastures fly by me. My mind was racing. Can this really be happening? I couldn't do it.
"Wait," I screamed.
"Jesus Kirsten! What," Chris snapped.
"I-I don't think I can do this. I can't We have to turn around."
"Look, we talked about this yesterday, it's the best thing for us. I'll be right there with you. It's okay," he grabbed my hand and squeezed tight. Deep down I knew he was right but something told me otherwise.
VIII
Pulling into the parking lot of the clinic there were protestors everywhere. Men and women holding picket signs and shouting obscenities at the windows of the center. I couldn't move.
"What-what's going on," I stammered.
"I dunno. Religious fanatics I assume. Don't worry about it. Just ignore them."
I got out of the car. I had decided earlier on the long drive that I wasn't going to go through with the abortion. I was going to trick Chris and tell him I did it and then never speak to him again. I'd have the baby on my own. I could do it. Women do it all the time. After all, it was my fault. Walking up to the doors of the hospital, people ran up to me shouting.
"You whore!"
"Your going to hell for this!"
"God will punish you!"
Suddenly, out of no where, I heard a gun shot and I fell to the ground. At that moment, the problem was solved.

the secret

She found him by the rusty swingset. A cute, little boy with brown curls and big, bright blue eyes. She found him crying the next day at the same spot, and still she didn't talk to him. Mommy told me not to talk to any strangers, she told herself, unaware that someone was watching her. But, her mind replied, he's on a little boy. And so, she made a promise to herself that tomorrow is when she'll talk to him, to the cute, little boy with brown curls. Tomorrow, I'll say hello.

But, tomorrow never came, and the cute, little boy wondered where the girl with the straight black hair went. He looked everywhere for her .. the first time he spotted her, she by the sandbox playing with several other children. The second time, he thought that she was staring at him while he was by the swingset, crying because his pet Charlie th rat died. His cat Frederick ate him.And today is the third day he was at the playground. And the girl with the straight black hair was nowhere to be found. His sister picked him up an hour later.

She asked him about the girl. His sister seemed to think that he had a crush. And he didn't even know what or who a crush is! He was, after all, only five years old. All he knew is that he liked the girl with the straight black hair. She didn't come today, he replied. His sister nodded, and he didn't see the tears forming in her eyes. He wasn't paying any attention. He looked straight out of the window like he always did, wondering why his sister is weird, and why his brother was tall. Maybe I'll be tall like him, too, he thought.

Together, they went home.

When they got home, he quickly unbuckled himself from the booster seat, and came running into the kitchen. Today, his mother didn't even notice! At dinner, he found out that his mom cooked him his favorite dinner, macaroni and cheese. And let him have a soda for a drink! I wonder why she's letting me, but his thoughts wandered away as he noticed that the television was on. He then thought, but we never have the tv on during dinner. Then, he heard his mom say he can't go to the playground anymore, not by himself and that his mom or his sister will be with him from now on. And he asked why, mad that he had to have either his mom or sister be there. Why can't my brother come with me? Because was all his mom said. Fine he yelled.

He didn't finish his mac-and-cheese.

He also didn't get to go to the playground the next several days, either. It was either raining or his mom wanted him to come with her to go grocery shopping or some other stuff. His mom never asked him before to go, and he wondered why now. He never did ask her, though, because at dinner, she informed everyone at dinner that they were all going to go and see Grandma. Really, he said. Then he asked, but the day we get back from seeing Grandma, can we go to the playground. His mom nodded her head.

A couple days later, his mom finally took him to the playground, and he noticed that they weren't a lot of kids around. He also noticed that there was some yellow ribbon or something around the sandbox. And his mom told him that he can't play there for a long time. Why he asked. His mom said that it was a crime scene. A what he asked. But, his mom didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, she told him to never talk to strangers.

Xanga...

I found my Xanga username and had to reset password, but I found Xanga and logged in. According to the site, the last time I logged in was back in 2011 ----- four years ago!

And I read through some entries.
Wow.

I wrote a lot. From 2003-2011(the entries from 2003-2009 doesn't show up, though; probably bc of the update that Xanga did OR I put them all in PRIVATE ...hmm) .... I basically chronicled my college life and some of my graduate/law school, too. Wrote about Hawaii and W. Wrote about DrFastAndFurious... Wrote about B. I'm having serious nostalgia from reading my Xanga journal.

I can't believe it hasn't been purged from their site!

this is OUR story or the beginning of one ...

My Mr. J and I started talking/sending each other messages back and forth from the online site where we met. Mutually liked and he sent me a nice message ... and the rest is kind of writing itself now.

Our first date was a month and a day ago. It surprises me that we've only known each other a month; it feels like I've known him longer. We finish each other's sentences. We think on a similar brainwave... and we're both scared for what this could mean.

But we are both giving this - us - a try.

I find it interesting that even though we have so many similarities, our unique differences make us who we are .... and it amazes me so much that my jaw hurts from all the smiling I've been doing as of late.

Whatever the ending may be, I think I'm going to write it as much as I can. Because the moments we spend and the memories we create while we're together ...I want to remember everything I do with My Mr. J :smiles: I want to remember how we poke fun at each other, and the laughs we have, and the times we hold hands... I want it all.

My Mr. J makes me think it's possible for that elusive happily ever after. And that within itself is scary. But I want to know so I'm staying because as I keep reminding Mr. J --- I'm in it for the long haul. Challenge accepted.

My Mr. J, I already told you: and I will keep telling you in person: I'm falling for you.  

Write about falling. (Remember to go with your "first flash," and write for 10 minutes without stopping or thinking.)

Falling in love was not something I expected. Especially with my track record... my past relationships only lasted three years. Never went any further.

And now? Falling for him - for my Mr. J - well, I'm at a loss as to what to do. Feelings I thought I buried deep within are resurfacing, and I'm once again questioning ---- but Mr. J makes me feel safe. Mr. J makes me all sorts of things/feelings/whatever you want to call them.

Mr. J quite undoubtedly makes me happy. And I hope I make him happy. Mr. J deserves happiness, too., and no, I am not putting him on a pedestal. He is great. Awesome. We haven't known each other long, but it feels as though I've known him far longer than I have. We finish each other's sentences. We are in sync. Similar interests, similar background --- and through all of that, we still maintain our differences, our individuality.

My Mr. J is ... he makes me smile just by thinking of him. My Mr. J is the first and last thought I have every day it seems since we first met.


Mr. J, I know you know this, but I'm your girl. I'm not going anywhere any time soon; I told you that I think I'm falling for you. Well, let me amend that: I know I am falling for you. My feelings are quite loud in that aspect.

---
The prompt asked for falling and that's what I thought of -- falling in love. Not falling down the stairs. Or whatever else that may be more appropriate. I could write more, but I'll just be gushing. :blushes: