3I continued reading my book after looking around once again barely wondering what time it was. I had finished the homework I had planned on getting done half an hour ago, about an hour before I was meeting my friend for coffee. I was on my fourth cup, getting ready for a new batch. A few minutes later I heard a scraping sound, the sound of a coffee cup being pushed across a table, my table. Looking up, above my book, I saw a boy with sandy blonde hair and green eyes sitting at my two man table. He had his own coffee and was looking at me expectantly. I raised my eyebrow looking between him and the full coffee in front of me.
"Thought you might need a refill. What is this, your fifth?" He asked with a cocky smirk. I had to fight off a small grin.
"What, are you stalking me?" I returned innocently, not even bothering with the coffee and not putting my book down.
"Stalking? Now that's a harsh word. I much prefer noticing a cute girl with unique hair engrossed in a book after two hours of studying and four cups of coffee." I wondered just how he knew this. My only answer was that he was a stalker.
"Okay, by passing the obvious creepiness of your statement, what made you come over here with even more caffine?" I realized as I spoke that I probably should have asked how he knew that but to be honest I didn't care much. I had far more important things to bother my brain with than some idiots stalking tendencies. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow looking at me curiously, clearly not expecting my question. Obviously I'm still doing my job of confusing idiots that I don't care about. Yippee…yeah, even I had to laugh silently at that pathetic display of sarcasm. Thankfully it was in my head so no one has a chance to revel in my patheticness. And with that I almost reluctantly tune back in. Hmm, I wish it wasn't almost. Damn green eyes.
"Well besides the cute pink striped porcupine," He reached over and flicked my pink streaked bangs. "your book had me curious." I looked down at the obviously well worn book still open in my hands. "Not something I'd expect you to read, let alone in a hole in the wall coffee shop." He slid the book from my hands, keeping my page. I reflexively looked at the page number despite knowing the book by heart and the fact that he wasn't letting my page disappear within the binding.
"Stetson by S.L. Rottman. Similar to The Outsiders. If you liked that than you would most likely enjoy this." I unconsciously reach for the coffee in front of me and take a swig before realizing what I was doing. A smile lit up his face making his green eyes sparkle. I inwardly groan, this is so not what I wanted today. "And porcupine? Really? Can't come up with anything better?" My eyes widen slightly when I figure out that I'm actually flirting a little bit. In the back of my mind I knew I really should care how he knew what coffee I had been drinking, Java Chip Frappe with extra frappe roast and no whip cream, though I just assumed it was because he had been stalking me. I didn't understand why I wasn't freaked out. He skimmed the back and nodded as if confirming what he already thought.
"What? You don't like porcupine? Well I wouldn't have to use nicknames if I knew your name." He told me leaning in, resting his weight on his folded arms that were on the table. His bangs fell in front of his eyes and I almost swooned. Why was he bothering with me?
"Oh, so I have my own personal stalker but he doesn't even know my name? How does that happen?" I look at him with a smirk, clearly amused however he doesn't falter.
"It happens when my cute pink striped porcupine plays hard to get. I think I'm just gonna have to give you a name until I can pry it out of you. Either that or keep calling you Porcupine." I raise my eyebrow.
"Hard to get? What about you? What's your name?" I was curious if his name matched his personality. If it name was something like John than I'd be severely disappointed.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." He offered. We heard a few honks and both looked toward the window. Outside were a few guys acting like idiots trying to get someone's attention, I turn my head and see that they were trying to get my idiots attention. I freeze in shock. Since when was he my idiot? I just met him. I don't even know his name. He is not mine and he never will be. I take a few inconspicuous breaths and calm myself down. After today we'll probably never see each other again. He turns back to me after gesturing to his friends that he'll be another minute. "So? Name or Porcupine?"
"You really think I'm going to tell my stalker my name; how about you come up with something a little more original than Porcupine instead. More than likely if you did get a name out of me than it wouldn't be my real one." I tell him rolling my eyes. He chuckles and nodded, seeing the sense of my words no doubt.
"I bet you've never been called Porcupine before." He says getting up and walking backwards towards the door. I notice that my friend Kara was standing by the door asking me who he was with her eyes.
"Sorry doll, you might want to try again." I pretend to be sad, like I am upset that he sucks at nicknames. He shakes his head grinning madly.
"Alright then, next time. Later Toots." He bursts out the door heading toward his friends. Kara comes over and sits in the previously occupied seat.
"What was that about?" She asks me taking in my appearance and trying to pinpoint the different emotions on my face. I sit there for a few moments and just laugh. I can't not. It was probably the most random thing that had ever happened to me. A cute guy with eyes I cannot resist, hair that is not the color I go for but has a style I enjoy, stalks me and buys me my fifth coffee since sitting down, and I don't even know his name. Extremely random. I explain to her my encounter play by play and half way through I realize something.
"Damn Chipmunk stole my book."
Hey guys, this scene literally ambushed me. I have no clue what it is going to be yet but I knew I had to get this written down. I don't even know my characters names yet. I guess that my story will tell me what to write when it wants to be written. I give no promises but I hope you enjoyed.