Chapter 1

This was the project mentioned in the previous post. Although only the first chapter, input is appreciated.

Gold and pink glow from beyond the rooftops as I shuffle down the sandpaper-like surface of my roof. Carefully, I climb down the drainpipe, and jump off three feet from the ground, my feet leaving a dark imprint in the dew soaked grass. I can feel tiny flecks of tile material embedded into my feet and the palms of my hands while I retrieve my socks and shoes from the front step of the house. Facing towards the sunrise, I begin walking, softly whistling myself a tune in rhythm with my hasty footsteps.

Ten minutes later, I arrive at my place of employment. A small blue building in the downtown, with large windows and a bland looking sign hanging parallel with the horizon that simply reads "Coffee", and as a joke, is now unofficially the name of the establishment. I push the door open with one hand and step inside. I survey the place, and let a weak smile creep over my face. The red and white tiles run unevenly across the floor, not lining up perfectly with either the walls or the front counter. Black marks from the chairs being repeatedly scootched about the floor, moved from one table to another to accommodate uneven party numbers. Seven steps later I'm behind the counter, and am flicking on the various hot beverage machines, putting money for change inside the register, and turning on the stereo, as soft, romantic jazz floods Coffee.

Feeling an uneasy sensation fire down my spine, I look up, and simultaneously, the bell loosely tied to the door rings. To my excitement and relief, my co-worker, Marcy walks in. At the threshold she stops, her shoulder-length red hair unpredictably buffeted around her face, and our eyes lock.

The doorbell rings, and I can see her standing at the threshold again, Marcy's warm eyes shimmering with moisture while she sniffles out a timid request to come inside

I look back and I realize I shouldn't have.

Her hand grabbing mine firmly, I can feel her tongue probing inside my mouth, experimenting with the taste, the sensation. I can taste coffee on her breath. It's soothing.

I regret my rash choice. No good will come of what I have done.

On the table next to us, my phone is angrily buzzing, as if trying to dissuade our current course of actions. She cries out my name as I slowly enter her for the first time, and I can feel her hands sliding down my back and through my hair. A second time my phone vibrates, but this time, there is a certain desperation to it's cry. Just for a moment my eyes shift over.

Cloe.

For a moment, we stand, seven paces between us, and I utter a feeble greeting toward her. The gaze we share, wavers, and then in silence nods toward me. This is not the same girl that stood crying on my doorstep last night. In an act of guilt, I look down toward the staff book we have below the counter, and start penciling in dates for people to work, my thoughts underwhelmed by the mundane nature of this task. I can hear Marcy humming along with some sensual bassline over the cheap speakers as she sweeps, her stare locked with the floor, as if fixated by dust.

Years of quiet conversation later, a customer finally walks in. A young college student with white running shoes and a green t-shirt, emblazoned with a sports logo. I forget what he asked for as I make it in the disposable cup. He quickly thanks me as he drops a nickle in the tip jar and spins on his heels to walk out the door. He nods at Marcy and reflexively, she smiles at him.

She begins sobbing on the sofa when I tell her I'll be there for her. She's heard that from me before, uttered in the exact same way. This is different.

"D... Does Chloe know yet?" I hear a timid voice come from the corner. Her hands are folded in front of her in a gesture of genuine fear.
"No. She doesn't... and Marcy, I've been mulling it over. I... we made a mistake. I think it would be for the best if we could recognize that, and do what we can to forget." I suddenly become overly conscious of every motion. I swallow as the hollow words come from my lips, and blink, trying to make myself appear resolve in front of my friend.
"I was hoping you'd say that. About it all though, I'm sorry." She takes a single step towards me.