Coffee and Clichés

"Coffee should be black as hell, strong as death, and as sweet as love."

- Turkish proverb

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Casey's dream date had always been a secluded café with witty repartee and dark coffee. This wasn't it – hell, this barely qualified as a date. Ten minutes in, and she was already checking her watch.

Why? The reason was walking towards them on stilettos.

"Anything else I can get you?" The waitress had returned with two fizzing sodas and a flirtatious smile. The beach-blonde bent closer to Trevor, so that her slight accent made the words softer and more intimate; her tone left no doubt she was offering more than the restaurant's cheap Italian fare.

The curvy waitress was a master at work, but Casey was not impressed. Not in the least.

"I'll have the House Pasta, no butter." Screw acceptable date foods, Casey hoped the red sauce dripping down her chin would transform her into a vampire. Maybe then she could scare off the unwanted intruder, or at least keep Trevor's eyes. But the blonde wonder only looked slightly disappointed at Casey's continued existence, and reluctantly jotted it down.

"And you?" The girl leaned in closer to Casey's date, and it was clear that the bronze tan went all the way down. Trevor didn't even have the grace to look like he wasn't enjoying the view. He used two long fingers to stroke his chin, and smiled slowly.

Casey wanted to pull his dark hair out by the roots.

"Hmm. I don't know. What should I get?" He drawled slightly and began an elaborate charade of perusing the menu while making eyes with the waitress. Casey hated him for it.

"A brain." She muttered, but they were ignoring her.

"A large pizza, please." He was smirking, darn him. His eyes followed the extra swing in the waitress' hips as she turned.

"So this is – nice." Casey tried, forcing a smile.

"Uh huh." He nodded his head vaguely, as if she was interrupting him from something important.

Two whole syllables, wasn't she special? She should just proceed with the cartwheels. Whoopee.

Awkward silence descended over the checkered tablecloth. Casey tapped her worn sneakers against the polished floor.

"It was really nice of you to take me here." She tried again.

"Yeah." The dark eyes she had thought so attractive were glazed.

"I love Italian."

"Yep."

Tap, tap, and tap . . .

"I'm going to the bathroom." She announced, forcing a smile, and stopping her teeth from grinding together.

"Whatever."

The bathroom door was hard oak, and made a satisfying thump when she beat it with her fist. God, she wanted to scream.

"Tough date?" Crimson crept into her face, and burned bright spots in her cheeks. Someone was watching her? She turned, so slowly and deliberately as to make the very movement an insult.

"No, I just wanted to make sure this door was really oak." Casey drew out each word slowly, emphasizing the pronunciation.

The boy didn't have the manners to hide his grin. He pushed black strands from muddy hazel eyes.

"Mine too. She was telling me how many calories are in a pepperoni." He raised his eyebrows as if he was sharing some private joke.

"That's lovely, tell your sob story someplace else." Casey didn't want him here. She didn't want anyone to see her so humiliated.

"The last book my charming date read was the cliff notes for Harry Potter. Because it's like so popular." The last line he drew out in fake falsetto, and reluctantly Casey's lips turned upwards.

"Sounds like a thrilling personality."

"Yeah, but she walked out when I told her I didn't play football."

"What a keeper."

"I saw yours checking out the waitress; I'm sorry."

"They'd make the perfect Hollywood couple, tall, dark, and handsome meets the blonde wonder."

"The blonde wonder?" She hadn't meant to let that slip out, but his smile had grown wider. "He's an idiot for leaving you."

"I don't want your fake flattery."

"Fake means it's not true."

"If I am such a catch, my boyfriend wouldn't be ogling another girl's butt."

"Ouch. That's almost enough venom to poison a cat." He was still smiling.

"Shame, I was hoping to murder an annoying ass."

"Hee haw." There was a second of strained silence, and then they both broke into grins.

"I'm Luke."

"Casey."

"Do you want to get a coffee?" He asked, hazel eyes laughing. "Stick your date with the bill?"

"I'm sure our waitress can wipe away his tears."

They walked out hand in hand.

Maybe she would get her coffee after all.