Motel 69

"Forgive me, I haven't properly introduced myself. Name's Cooper," a hand waved itself in front of her face. Eyes coated in thick liner stared up at him.

She ignored the hand. "Are you stalking me now?"

He sat in the vacant seat across from her. Marilyn dully noted that his front tooth had a slight chip in it. "Stalking, surprise following, whatever. Is it such a crime to keep a pretty girl company in one of town's finest cafes?"

Marilyn didn't respond. Instead, she took a sip of coffee she had just bought. Despite it's moniker, Motel 69 was nothing close to a motel. It was the only coffee shop in a town too remote for a Starbucks. Its twenty four hour availability worked in favor of insomniacs looking for caffeine in the early hours of the morning.

As if he knew what she was thinking, the boy leaned closer. He cupped his palms around his mouth, about to share a secret. "You wanna know how it got its name?" He didn't wait for an answer. "This used to be a whore house. But after a few years, the whores got too old. They retired. Think about it: where you're sitting, some dude probably got fucked for the price of a pack of cigarettes. Multiple guys, actually. Maybe even some women."

She sat there. Gray eyes met hazel ones. Neither moved.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" Cooper was getting under her skin. He could feel it.

"An unquam claudere? Deum," she rolled her eyes. Now it was Marilyn's turn to feel smug. She had a lot of free time on her hands. In said time, she taught herself how to speak Latin, Portuguese, and Gaelic. Not fluently, of course, but pretty decently.

"Excuse me?" dark eyebrows knitted together.

Marilyn smirked. "If I go home now, are you going to follow me there too?"

"You know, maybe you're the one following me. I've been here hundreds of times before you, babe."

"Don't call me 'babe.' And I've been here for a week already, why are you trying to talk to me now?" The two baristas looked exhausted, and the dim lights didn't do much to help. Aside from an elderly man reading a newspaper, the teenagers were in their own world.

Cooper offered a sweet smile. "I'm just trying to get to know a fellow student, but I get the feeling you don't entirely like me."

She lightly snorted. "What was your first clue, genius?"

He was on the verge of saying something next, but she stopped him. "And what's with those stupid love letters you kept throwing at me?"

"Letters for my love, of course."

"I'm sure. And how many other girls have had the honor of being the apple of your eye?"

"Just you. But you're the only girl for me, sweet cheeks."

Marilyn delicately scrunched her nose and stood up. "As lovely as this has been, I'm going home. For your sake, don't talk to me. I've got a reputation to maintain."

Cooper followed her out. She declined his adamant offer to walk her home and became apart of the darkness. Pale skin glowed under a streetlight as he asked what kind of reputation she had.

"Nothing of consequence, sweet cheeks."