So here it is, Blake's story. I fought with myself for a long time about the title of this story. Cheesy or not cheesy? I guess cheesy and cliche won. Here we get to learn more about Blake. Oh happy happy joy joy. And yes, Blake has an interesting hatred for chocolate. I have no idea why. Why Blake? Why? That's all I have to say. Oh, and Thai's kind of awesome.
Please enjoy this new addition to my collection.
Life Is A Highway
Blake let out a soft groan and leaned back, massaging his temples. Driving for nine hours straight with nothing to eat and no coffee wasn't doing anything to help his headache. Then again, neither was the light filtering into the cutesy breakfast shop where he was. He blamed Matilda and Delilah for the incessant pain that was now coursing through his head. They had thought it would be hilarious to seat him at a table full of Kiara's single girl cousins and friends. He'd heard the two masterminds giggling the whole reception.
"More coffee?" a feminine voice startled him out of the doze he'd fallen into. He glanced at the source of the voice. A girl, maybe a couple years younger than his twenty-five years stood in front of him, coffee pot in hand poised over his empty cup. Her straw blonde hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail, leaving a couple of pink tipped strands falling into her face. She had a tattoo of a humming bird on her wrist and a slight scowl on her face.
The way it was so different from the welcoming design of the restaurant was almost laughable. He nodded and pushed the cup towards her. He could feel her blue eyes studying him as she poured. He scratched at the day old growth on his face and looked away. He thanked her and pulled the cup closer when it was full. He patiently waited for her to leave so he could go back to dozing.
"So, what's your story?" she asked. He cursed silently; he never got any alone time. He tapped his fingers against the cup in annoyance and just looked at her.
"What was that?" he asked. She set her coffee pot down on the table. Great, now she really wasn't leaving anytime soon.
"Your story," she repeated. "This place is brimming with them. And usually I get to hear them. But you, you haven't told me anything yet."
"Is that right?" Blake asked raising one dark eyebrow questioningly. "And why is that a problem?"
"You're a good looking guy," the girl said. "Who's in a coffee shop all alone. You're about to fall asleep even though you've had about three cups of coffee. You're mysterious, quiet, intriguing. You're basically dragging attention to yourself right now. Now will you please tell me your story?"
Blake studied the girl before jerking his head in the direction of the counter. "You see that piece of apple pie?" he asked. She nodded. "If you bring me a piece of that, I'll answer three of your questions." She disappeared, tending on other customers and getting the pie before returning to his table. She topped the pie with whipped cream before sliding it toward him.
"I believe I get my questions answered now," she said sliding into the booth across from him. He picked up a fork and started to eat the pie. Damn, this was good. Screw chocolate, pie was where it was at.
" That you do," he said staring down at the now half empty plate. "What would you like to ask?"
"What's your name?" she asked. He glanced up and raised his eyebrow at her.
"Is that seriously your first question?" he asked. She smiled and shook her head.
"Hell no," she said. "I just thought I'd ask. I can't just keep referring to you as 'guy in booth number three'. That's just rude. So, guy number three, what's your name?"
"It's Blake," he said laughing. "And what's your name?"
"It's Thai," she said leaning back and pulling her hair out of the ponytail. It cascaded down her shoulders in a way that reminded him of Rumpelstiltskin and the weaving of straw into gold. Except this straw was pink tipped. She shook it out and then glanced – almost glared – down at her nametag. "Well, Tharisa, actually." She cocked her head at him and smiled.
"Well, Thai," Blake said. "What's your first question?" She sighed and pulled her hair back into a ponytail that was just as messy as before.
"My first question is," she paused and tapped her finger on her chin in thought. "What's your favorite kind of pie?"
"Definitely pumpkin," Blake replied. Man, even the idea of pumpkin pie made his mouth water. But it was early, much to early for that type of pie. "And yours?"
"Chocolate," Thai said. "With that really crumbly, yummy crust." Blake wrinkled his nose. "What?" she demanded. "You don't like chocolate? What's wrong with you?"
"Was that one of your questions?" Blake asked. She quickly shook her head.
"No, definitely not," she said. "My second question, hmm. Why are you here?"
"I like coffee," Blake said. "You guys serve coffee. And really good apple pie. Why are you here?"
"I needed a job," Thai said. "Why here? There's a Starbucks just down the street. I'm not sure if they serve pie but they definitely have coffee."
"You certainly ask a lot of questions for only being able to ask three," Blake commented. "Honestly? Maybe I wanted to talk to someone. I lot has happened in my life. Maybe I just needed to tell someone."
"You can tell me," Thai straightened up and smiled at him. "Go ahead, I'm all ears."
"You don't want to hear it," Blake said. "Besides, it'll take a very, very long time. Way longer than you're up for."
"My shift ends at seven, if you can wait until then," Thai said. "Then we can talk." Blake shook his head and drained his cup. He tossed a ten-dollar bill on the table, got up and stretched.
"I gotta get going," he said. "But hey, thanks for listening."
"Oh, yeah?" Thai narrowed her eyes at him. "Where are you going?" He flashed her a grin and picked up the duffle that he'd carried inside with him.
"Disneyland," he said and started for the door.