I think about this for a second then answer, “You're right, I would have.” Feeling better, I sip my coffee and look away.
“Challenge accepted!” He exclaims getting up from his seat next to mine.
“What do you mean challenge accepted?” This can’t be good.
He starts to pull me toward the down escalator as I turn around to yell for help from Kristin. But as per usual, she can’t read my mind. Therefore, she just waves at me as if I’m getting ready to go on a ride at Disneyland and bumps Brad as if to say, “Oh, look how cute they are going down the escalator.” The last thing she sees is me making a cut it out motion with my hand as my head ducks below to the first level.
“Look, a dude.” Preston points toward a nerdy-looking barista whose reading Theology Today with an interest I can only describe as a little too intense.
“Piece of cake.” Smoke is about to pour from my ears like a cartoon. To make myself feel better, I make the bet sweeter, for me. “I get a free coffee and you don’t talk to me the entire trip on the airplane.” I challenge.
“Deal.” He shrugs.
Pulling out my lip gloss, I put some on and approach the counter wearing my most flirtatious smile. “Hi.” I wave. Oh my word, I’m going to lose. Why did I just wave at someone right in front of me? My stomach churns as I think of the plane ride that’s at stake.
The barista lifts his eyes for just a second before dropping the magazine in front of him and taking a cup in hand. “What would you like, miss?” His voice squeaks on the miss making me pity him all the more. This is all Preston’s fault.
Clearing my throat, I try to engage him in conversation so I can flirt, or try to. “So...” I look at his name tag “John, that magazine looks pretty interesting. Are you studying to be a pastor?” He nods his head yes and blushes as I mentally high five myself for such clever flirting.
His expression turns serious again as he asks, “Did you want coffee or not?”
Laughing, I twist my dark hair around my finger playfully flirting with the poor guy.“Of course silly, that’s why I’m here.” I make a pretend pushing motion with my hand as if to say “you are so funny!” But he’s not having any of it, and he looks bored. How can I be more boring than Theology Today?
No offense.
“Umm,” I stutter. “Just a small black coffee.” Taking out the money, I begin to think of ways to ignore Preston. The Barista accepts my money and gives me some change. This time, I do not tip. I should have, but Preston would have seen it.
Walking back toward Preston, I keep my head down waiting for the jokes to hit, but instead Preston just looks at me with prideful eyes and shrugs. “It’s not because you weren’t pretty enough, you just made him too nervous.” He and I walk side by side to the elevators before he says, “He was probably afraid of being rejected.”
“Nope.” Why am I defending the coffee guy? “He was just more interested in his stupid magazine. Did you see me wave at him?”
He turns toward me and winks. “My favorite part.”
“Fine! You win, I lose. I hope you’re happy.” I down the entire contents of my cup and throw it in the trash.
“Oh no, you don’t get away that easy. There’s one other coffee shop upstairs. I say we give it a try. That is, unless you’ve faced enough rejection for the day?”
“Challenge accepted.” I mutter as we, yet again, pass Kristin and Brad. this time, however, they’re both looking in our direction smiling and tilting their heads as if to say, “Oh, look now they’re going for a walk. How cute.” We’ll have words later, you can bet on it.
We approach the dreaded destination to find two male baristas behind the counter. This should be fun.
“You don’t’ have to do this, you know,” Preston teased. “I promise I won’t tell anyone that theology boy rejected you.”
I hit him in his muscular shoulder, probably hurting my hand more than his body, and turn to face the music.
“Just be yourself!” Preston shouts after me as my face heats with sudden embarrassment.
Both baristas look up as I approach. By now you must have guessed that I’m extremely keyed up on caffeine. I’ve had one full cup of coffee along with two shots of espresso. The wise choice would be to order a snack or bread to soak up the sugar or I’ll be totally out of control in about ten minutes. There’s a valid reason for not drinking too much caffeine and pop. I have trouble shutting up when it’s in my system. You’re thinking, “Wow, Amanda, you already have that problem. How could it get worse?” To which I’m guessing you’ll soon find out that it can, indeed, get worse.
“What would you like, miss?” The first one asks. He’s quite good looking for a sixteen year old. There’s no way I should have ever thought that. I inwardly groan. I am so glad nobody can hear my thoughts. It reminds me of the time I went to the mall and saw a sign for Abercrombie and went “ooo he’s cute!” Not realizing that the sign was for the little kid Abercrombie, for kids under the age of eighteen. I was mortified, and of course, Grandma Ned was with me.
You can only imagine her response. If I remember correctly, my mouth got washed out with soap while I read the Old Testament section about sexual immorality. If you ever doubted it before, I got to know my Bible around Grandma Ned.
The cute underage barista is patiently waiting for my order. Clearing my throat, I order a bagel and decaf coffee, with cream. The first one types in my order while the other goes to work.
“Oh no!” The second barista yells. I quickly look in his direction, fully anticipating a scarring coffee burn.
“What’s wrong?” I ask trying to keep my voice even.
“Oh, I just used regular rather than decaf and already put it together, guess I’ll have to redo it.” He shrugs.
“No!” I yell using my outside voice. “It's fine. I’ll take it.”
The baristas look between each other as if I just ask them if they could spit in my drink, and then tell me nicely, “You don’t have to pay for the Americano then, it’s our fault.”
Walking away, I feel a confident grin begin on my face just as the first barista yells after me. “Miss! Miss! Sorry, but you still have to pay for your bagel!” My face tightens as Preston tries to unsuccessfully hide his laughter from me with his coffee.
Turning around, I walk back to the counter and slam two dollars onto the surface top telling them to keep the change. Then I strut past Preston with my head held high and bagel full in my mouth. He better not ask me to share. Trying not to focus on the fact that I’ve lost a bet to Preston, I sit down next to Kristin in a huff.
“So how was your walk or whatever or wait a second…” Her eyes lock onto my coffee then back at me, “How many of those have you had?”
Preston plops down next to me and laughs. “Three. Actually she’s had four shots of espresso and one cup of coffee, to be exact.” Amused he flips open the newspaper and smiles as Kristin stares at me with ice in her eyes.
“You know what caffeine does to you.” She hits Brad to involve him in the conversation sealing my fate.
“You did what?” He yells jumping out of his seat. “You know what caffeine does to you!”
“Preston dared me!” I protest in true teenage fashion while Preston looks innocently at both of our friends as if to say, “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
“Just out of curiosity, what does Amanda do when she has too much caffeine?” Preston has now put down his newspaper. He’s staring at Kristin and Brad in anticipation of the story he knows they’ll probably blab.
“At least let me tell it so I know there are no exaggerations or falsifications.” I look Brad’s way causing him to look down in shame. He has a tendency to exaggerate everything.
“So it’s not that big of a deal. It only happened one time, and I’ve since learned my lesson.” Preston needs to understand that it isn’t a regular occurrence for me.
“You know what?” I say with heavy sarcasm. “I’m not going to tell and neither are you!” Pointing at both of my friends, I dare them with a silent glare. “True friends keep secrets; just know that you have nothing to worry about.”
Kristin eyes me as she turns back to Brad. “Okay, blue pants.”
“Shhhh,” I say patting her on the knee.
“Did you just call her blue pants?” Preston wants to know.
“Yeah, on account of the blue pants she rocked during her last caffeine surge. Those poor kids didn’t even see her coming.” Brad takes off his baseball cap and holds it to his chest as if the children died or something, and I feel my resolve weaken as I look again toward Preston.
“Fine, I drank a lot of caffeine then wanted to go play laser tag, wore blue pants to blend in to the blue walls in the laser tag place and stayed for three hours while I attacked small children with my laser gun.” I tried to let the words flow as fast as possible, hoping he wouldn’t’ catch all of it.
“She wouldn’t let us leave until she won.” Brad admits, re-living the event.
“We were so hungry.” Kristin holds Brads hand as they both lean in to touch heads.
“It was dark. Cold, so very cold.” Brad continues as he closes his eyes as if he’s traumatized.
“Ok. We’re done.” I say as I leave all of them and sit by myself to pout.
They’re laughing, and I try to keep the smile off my face.
It’s hard to stay mad at people who are so funny. With reluctance, I have to admit it has been the most fun vacation I have had in awhile, even if it’s been with Preston. But as I think this, I have a sickening feeling that I have a lot more “fun” to look forward to. I groan a little as I realize the caffeine is now hitting my stomach full force. I need the bathroom. Now.
As quick as possible, in efforts to not bring attention to myself, I get up then sprint toward the bathroom. See? Being a runner is useful and applicable in many situations. While in there, I decide to put on some more lip gloss then strut out finally feeling comfortable and able to carry on a descent conversation. It looks like the plane is already boarding. To be honest, I was a bit excited to be riding in first class, but you aren’t going to hear me say that to Preston. No, it would go straight to his head, and that’s the last thing this world needs.
Chapter Seven
We shuffle to the front of the plane, each of us buzzing with excitement. I nearly choke when I see that all of the seats have personal TVs as well as blankets and pillows. Wow, this could be my heaven, complete with a glass full of water with lime. Inhaling, I look at my seat number only to trip over my bag and face plant into the seat next to me.
“Straight lines, Amanda, straight lines.” Preston whispers behind me as he sidesteps and takes his seat in front of mine. I mutter something unintelligent as I crawl to my seat. At this time I’m unaware as to why I thought it would be a good idea for me to sit by the window. I’m terrified of heights. What am I thinking? Turning to ask Kristin to switch me places, I see her face and go pale. She’s going to ask me to move. That’s her pouty face. I know it’s her pouty face. Oh no, don’t do it, Kristin. Do not do it!