Never Knew I Needed
CHAPTER ONE
As she idly typed away at her luminescent keyboard, I felt a scream of frustration rise in my throat. However, when I finally opened my mouth, all that escaped was an exasperated sigh.
"You could write in this order!" I said through clenched teeth.
She looked at me with a blank stare and simply replied, "I need help."
Help... after the last few hours, that word was as dark and vile as a cup of murderer's poison to me. She begged and begged for my help, which I gave, albeit reluctantly. Every. Single. Weekend. And she wondered why I had stopped calling her to hang out during the week...?
"Belle... Belle!!" she screeched at me, in her annoying, smug, and much too familiar voice.
"Huh... what? Sorry, I was zoning out. We've been here for six hours... You can't blame me," I said, as I stretched my tired limbs. I ran my hands through my short dirty blonde hair, trying to keep my cool. I was on the verge of telling her off, once and for all. But I bit my tongue.
"Belle, I can't do this anymore! I need a drink. Want anything from Starbucks?" Aubrey reluctantly asked me.
"No thanks Aubrey. I'm fine." Finally, I would be granted a few minutes of peace. As she left the comfort of the warm and poorly lit booth, I breathed a sigh of intense relief. Not five minutes had passed when my phone lit up and sent up a cacophony of noise. A text from Aubrey, saying she wouldn't be back for a while. Her boyfriend had magically appeared outside the library and, lo and behold, she was going off somewhere with him.
"Watch my computer. I'll be back in a bit." I read her last two lines, and my head drooped a little. I was stuck here until she returned. Some would say leave. But no, I just had to be, as my friends commonly put it, "too nice." As I rested my tired head on my hand and waited for my computer to start up, I glanced around the cozy area surrounding the campus Starbucks. There was an interesting variety of people; a heavily tattooed young man with a beat up skate board helping a homely young woman with her English paper, a football player staring blankly into his computer screen as he loudly munched on a chips from the crinkly bag in his hand. I decided to stand and move my poor, tired legs. I rose from my seat, arched my back, threw my hands behind me... and hit the steaming cup of coffee that the person behind me had been innocently holding right onto the floor.
"You could write in this order!" I said through clenched teeth.
She looked at me with a blank stare and simply replied, "I need help."
Help... after the last few hours, that word was as dark and vile as a cup of murderer's poison to me. She begged and begged for my help, which I gave, albeit reluctantly. Every. Single. Weekend. And she wondered why I had stopped calling her to hang out during the week...?
"Belle... Belle!!" she screeched at me, in her annoying, smug, and much too familiar voice.
"Huh... what? Sorry, I was zoning out. We've been here for six hours... You can't blame me," I said, as I stretched my tired limbs. I ran my hands through my short dirty blonde hair, trying to keep my cool. I was on the verge of telling her off, once and for all. But I bit my tongue.
"Belle, I can't do this anymore! I need a drink. Want anything from Starbucks?" Aubrey reluctantly asked me.
"No thanks Aubrey. I'm fine." Finally, I would be granted a few minutes of peace. As she left the comfort of the warm and poorly lit booth, I breathed a sigh of intense relief. Not five minutes had passed when my phone lit up and sent up a cacophony of noise. A text from Aubrey, saying she wouldn't be back for a while. Her boyfriend had magically appeared outside the library and, lo and behold, she was going off somewhere with him.
"Watch my computer. I'll be back in a bit." I read her last two lines, and my head drooped a little. I was stuck here until she returned. Some would say leave. But no, I just had to be, as my friends commonly put it, "too nice." As I rested my tired head on my hand and waited for my computer to start up, I glanced around the cozy area surrounding the campus Starbucks. There was an interesting variety of people; a heavily tattooed young man with a beat up skate board helping a homely young woman with her English paper, a football player staring blankly into his computer screen as he loudly munched on a chips from the crinkly bag in his hand. I decided to stand and move my poor, tired legs. I rose from my seat, arched my back, threw my hands behind me... and hit the steaming cup of coffee that the person behind me had been innocently holding right onto the floor.