Jetset Sugar
Of Coffee & Cheerios
I woke up to a loud knocking on the door. I opened my eyes and closed them back to get away from the sunlight pouring through the room. I turned over to the other side but the knock on the door would not stop.
“Alright, alright!” I called out to who ever it was trying to break my door down. I staggered out of bed and into the living room. The storm seemed to have stop and everything was calm outside.
“Finally! I have been knocking for the past ten minutes.”
Ashley, my neighbor, invited herself into my tiny apartment. She had Sammi in her arms and placed her in the middle of the living room. Upon touching the floor, Sammi quickly made her way to the corner of the room, her favorite spot. She curled herself up and put her head down.
“Good morning to you too, Ashley,” I said to her lazily and closed the door. I gave myself a few seconds to indulge in a loud yawn and a good stretch before turning to look at Ashley who was already on the couch flipping through the channels to see what was showing on the tube.
Seventeen-year-old Ashley was a high school drop out who earns extra cash by running errands for me. Like cat-sitting Sammi when my schedule calls for me to do double shifts. She initially wanted to clean my house, but I was never comfortable with the idea. I like my privacy.
Having found something interesting to watch, Ashley glued her eyes to the TV screen, while I head to the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee. I filled the coffee maker with my favorite coffee powder and some water. The kitchen was soon filled with the aromatic smell of Java beans. As the coffee was brewing, I slowly remove the bandage on my hand to study the cut. It was nasty. The bleeding had stopped, and there was an angry line down my palm. I stroked it gently with my other thumb, thinking of what happened. Did I really see her or was it just my imagination? I was then reminded of the day she died, how she was brought in and how she desperate her eyes looked. Those eyes, those icy blue eyes.
“Gerard, get me one too!” Ashley’s voice forced its way into my head to drag me back to reality. She must have smelt the coffee. “And Cheerios!”
I placed the bandage back around my palm and returned to the living room with two mugs filled with steaming hot coffee. I placed one on the coffee table in front of Ashley and slowly sipped on mine.
“Where’s the Cheerios?”
“We’re out,” I replied. I took another sip of my coffee and noticed Ashley looking at me, frowning. “What?”
“I just bought you a new one last week.”
“Yes, and you took it back to your apartment two days after that ‘cuz you’ve ran out.”
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot.” She smiled sheepishly and picked up her coffee. “Did you add sugar to mine?”
“Yes.”
“Two cubes?”
“Two teaspoons, yes.”
Satisfied with my answers, she smiled thankfully. She then blew on her coffee gently before taking a sip. She let the warm liquid flow down her throat and sighed in bliss.
“You know, Gee, you make the best coffee. Better than Starbucks.”
“It’s not me, it’s the beans,” I replied monotonously. My brain was yet to wake up, and I was still bothered about what happened last night.
“But you bought the beans,” she replied in a sing-song manner, sounding a little too cheerful. But then again, she has always been cheerful, despite being dressed in black all the time. Today was no different, except for her red and black stripped socks that goes all the way up to her knees. She had that damn mini skirt on again, which showed off her legs that seemed to go on forever. That fact alone was enough to have lecherous looks thrown at her, like what happened the last time she wore that skirt. Good thing I wasn’t around when that happened. I would have dug out all the eyes that had landed upon her. Even though I’ve only known Ashley for a year, I can’t help but be protective over her. Although I would never admit it, not to her face.
(Okay, I know this chapter is a little boring, but just bare with me. I just lost a whole chunk of good writing. Now, I have to re-write. *sigh* Anyways, enjoy and don't forget to comment.)
“Alright, alright!” I called out to who ever it was trying to break my door down. I staggered out of bed and into the living room. The storm seemed to have stop and everything was calm outside.
“Finally! I have been knocking for the past ten minutes.”
Ashley, my neighbor, invited herself into my tiny apartment. She had Sammi in her arms and placed her in the middle of the living room. Upon touching the floor, Sammi quickly made her way to the corner of the room, her favorite spot. She curled herself up and put her head down.
“Good morning to you too, Ashley,” I said to her lazily and closed the door. I gave myself a few seconds to indulge in a loud yawn and a good stretch before turning to look at Ashley who was already on the couch flipping through the channels to see what was showing on the tube.
Seventeen-year-old Ashley was a high school drop out who earns extra cash by running errands for me. Like cat-sitting Sammi when my schedule calls for me to do double shifts. She initially wanted to clean my house, but I was never comfortable with the idea. I like my privacy.
Having found something interesting to watch, Ashley glued her eyes to the TV screen, while I head to the kitchen to get myself a cup of coffee. I filled the coffee maker with my favorite coffee powder and some water. The kitchen was soon filled with the aromatic smell of Java beans. As the coffee was brewing, I slowly remove the bandage on my hand to study the cut. It was nasty. The bleeding had stopped, and there was an angry line down my palm. I stroked it gently with my other thumb, thinking of what happened. Did I really see her or was it just my imagination? I was then reminded of the day she died, how she was brought in and how she desperate her eyes looked. Those eyes, those icy blue eyes.
“Gerard, get me one too!” Ashley’s voice forced its way into my head to drag me back to reality. She must have smelt the coffee. “And Cheerios!”
I placed the bandage back around my palm and returned to the living room with two mugs filled with steaming hot coffee. I placed one on the coffee table in front of Ashley and slowly sipped on mine.
“Where’s the Cheerios?”
“We’re out,” I replied. I took another sip of my coffee and noticed Ashley looking at me, frowning. “What?”
“I just bought you a new one last week.”
“Yes, and you took it back to your apartment two days after that ‘cuz you’ve ran out.”
“Oh. Yeah. I forgot.” She smiled sheepishly and picked up her coffee. “Did you add sugar to mine?”
“Yes.”
“Two cubes?”
“Two teaspoons, yes.”
Satisfied with my answers, she smiled thankfully. She then blew on her coffee gently before taking a sip. She let the warm liquid flow down her throat and sighed in bliss.
“You know, Gee, you make the best coffee. Better than Starbucks.”
“It’s not me, it’s the beans,” I replied monotonously. My brain was yet to wake up, and I was still bothered about what happened last night.
“But you bought the beans,” she replied in a sing-song manner, sounding a little too cheerful. But then again, she has always been cheerful, despite being dressed in black all the time. Today was no different, except for her red and black stripped socks that goes all the way up to her knees. She had that damn mini skirt on again, which showed off her legs that seemed to go on forever. That fact alone was enough to have lecherous looks thrown at her, like what happened the last time she wore that skirt. Good thing I wasn’t around when that happened. I would have dug out all the eyes that had landed upon her. Even though I’ve only known Ashley for a year, I can’t help but be protective over her. Although I would never admit it, not to her face.
(Okay, I know this chapter is a little boring, but just bare with me. I just lost a whole chunk of good writing. Now, I have to re-write. *sigh* Anyways, enjoy and don't forget to comment.)