I've Got the Guts to Say Anything

The coffee shop was practically empty as I walked to the counter to order my drink apart from a few regulars. I took the mug that had the drink made for me and turned to go and sit in the seat I usually took to find that someone was already sat there. A young boy who wouldn’t have been much older than me, if he was older at all. I stood still for a few moments and debated going to sit across from him, which I did in the end.

I set my coffee on the small table that was in between the two chairs and sat down across from him. He smiled at me and took a drink out of his mug, turning back to look out of the window like he’d been doing when I first saw him. I kept my coat on and set my bag on my lap, rooting through it to find my phone. I sighed when I realised that it wasn’t in my bag, and I could picture it sat on the side by the kettle where I’d left it when I’d gone home for lunch.

I sighed again and threw my handbag down on the floor, a little more forcefully that I should have. I took my coffee from the table and took it in my hands, warming both my hands and the part of my thigh that I had it resting on. I sat back and took a sip, feeling the warm liquid slide all the way down my stomach, warming me from the cold October weather.

I looked over at the boy who was sat in my normal seat, and for the first time, I took a proper good look at him and noticed that he was rather beautiful. He had pale skin, but not so pale as to make him look sick, it went well with his icy blue eyes that seemed almost vacant from where he was as he stared out of the window, often bringing his lips to his mugs to drink what was left of his coffee. His hair was brown from what I could see of it from under a grey beanie and was obviously messy from the random strands that were poking out from the front of his hate.

I turned myself away from him as he went to move from his seat so he wouldn’t catch me staring at him, although I’m sure he could tell, which was probably why he got up and left so fast as though his house was on fire. I sighed to myself and drank some more of my coffee, wondering where he could be going in such a rush. I started to imagine his whole life for him. I imagined him having a beautiful blonde haired girlfriend who he treated like a princess whenever it was needed. I thought he might have still lived with his parents, while he worked strange hours at a fast food restaurant or something of the like to try and scoop together enough money to go to University or travel around to see the world with said beautiful girlfriend.

I finished my coffee and set the mug down next to the one that the mysterious boy had finished not ten minutes before me. I picked up my bag and smiled at the barista who had made my drink before I left, with the strange, beautiful boy on my mind.



“How was therapy today?” Joseph asked me as we ate dinner that evening.

“It was alright, pretty much like it always is.” I told him, smiling the most fake smile I could muster before spooning some pasta into my mouth.

“Don’t lie to me Paige; you know I don’t like it.” He warned, looking at me over his glass of water, “I saw you in town today.”

“So, I didn’t stay for the whole session, shoot me.” I said, letting my spoon fall from my hand, letting it hit my bowl.

“Why did you leave?” He asked sternly, almost like a father would when he was reprimanding his teenage daughter for staying out after her curfew.

“Because she was being patronising and making me out to be a bad person.” I told him, pushing my bowl away from me, suddenly losing my appetite.

“She’s there to help you Paige!” Joseph shouted, slamming his hand down on the dining table, making me jump, “She’s there to help you and all you do is call her patronising!”

“That’s because she is.” I mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t hear me, but to my luck, he did.

“You need help Paige!” He shouted once more, standing up from his seat, walking over to mine, putting his hands on the back of my chair, moving his face close to mine, “You need help because there’s something wrong with you, no?” He asked, I nodded my head, trying to move my face away from his, “Then start acting like you want help, stupid girl.”

I pushed him away from me and got up from my seat, running up the stairs to the bathroom, where I slammed the door and locked it, making sure he wasn’t able to follow me in. In all of two minutes, I’d run a bath, stripped from my clothes and settled myself into the water, that was scalding hot and likely to make me feel ill when I got out. I let my blonde hair down from the messy bun that I’d put it up in while I was cooking dinner, and let myself slide under the water to get it wet.

I leant back against the back of the bath, trying not to think about what had just happened to me at the dinner table, failing miserably as my eyes welled up. I rubbed at them, trying to tell myself that I was stronger than that, that I was strong enough to take what I deserved, because whatever I’d done to him to get him so angry, I obviously deserved a close encounter as punishment.