Writing Prompt Stories, Mini Stories That My Mind Cooked Up – Part 8

"We've been friends for so long, I can't remember which one of us is the bad influence."

"Considering you're the one suggesting we skip out on class, I'd say it's you." I raised my eyebrows in his direction, and he shrugged.

"So? I don't care. We doing this, or not?" Mark asked, and I hesitated, readjusting my book bag on my shoulder. I could feel the weight of my human psychology book, and I could practically see the scathing glare of my lecturer (who's name I still could not remember) when I walked into the next class. He would definitely know. He would single me out, glare at me, and then announce some sort of quiz on the material covered in the last lecture.

"Fine, what are we doing?" I asked, throwing all caution to the wind. I could catch up, I had the right books, I could just teach it to myself.

"I was thinking we could go and get something to drink..." Mark started, and I turned to glare at him.

"Seriously? You're making me leave campus, while I have classes to go to, because you want to go and flirt with that cute girl at the cafe?"

Mark shrugged.

"Whatever," I sighed. "As long as you're not expecting me to help you catch up on the classes you're missing."

"But, June..." he whinged, giving me a puppy dog eyed stare that I tried desperately to ignore. I pouted, purposefully not looking at him, and I could tell he was grinning. If only he knew how that stare makes me melt. And that dragging me along to be his female wingman as he chats up other girls makes me want to throw up with how jealous it makes me.

"I'm not taking English, and yet, I seem to know more about your course than you do."

"That's because you're awesome. So? Help me catch up later?" he asked and I looked away again, not wanting to see his messy hair fall over his eyes as he waited for me answer.

"Fine." I sighed my defeat, and Mark celebrated by attempting to do that jump where you kick your own foot to the side, but he failed miserably and it just looked like he was trying to trip himself in the air.

The cafe I often found myself in, due to Mark and the girl who worked there, wasn't all that big, although with the amount of students who used it as their gateway to caffeine, I sometimes wondered how the workers deal with so many people in such a small area. When it was quiet, though, it was a heavenly place.

The smell of coffee and chocolate hits you as soon as you open the door, and, with all the wooden decor, it looks like you've just stepped into a cosy cabin. Apart from the counter and all the tables, that is.

I watch as Mark makes a beeline to the counter, leaning against it on one elbow, and smiling at the girl who smiled at the attention, but pretended to ignore it. I turned away, and looked for a table.

What did she have that I didn't? Sure, her hair was a beautiful red, which was was clearly her natural hair colour, and mine was a dull brown colour that looked, at the best of times, like mud. And sure, she was tall and slender, and my thunder thighs couldn't hold a candle to her thigh gap. But, I had witnessed firsthand her inability to calculate the smallest of sums, and I was managing to learn everything on my course, while simultaneously teaching myself Mark's course, so I could help him with it. Surely that stood for something?

Mark briefly returned to me, putting a cup of hot chocolate down on the table for me, topped with more whipped cream than I had ever seen this place serve, and a large blueberry muffin, my favourite.

"Thank you," I reached for my bag. "How much was it?"

"It's on me. Enjoy," he said, sending me a lob-sided smile as he turned and walked back to the counter, glancing over his shoulder at me. I picked up the hot chocolate, careful not to spill any, and held it up to cheers him before sipping it and giving myself a whipped cream moustache while simultaneously burning the tip of my tongue.

I pulled my human psychology book out of my bag, and lay it on the table, opening it to the page I had got to. The class today was supposed to be on chapter ten, so I pulled out my highlighter, and started reading. 

Every so often, I glanced up at Mark, who had obviously intentionally brought me here just in time for the girl to go on her break. They were sat at a table together, and Mark seemed to be listening intensely to everything she said. She didn't seem to be flirting with him, but I was sat across the room. Maybe I wasn't seeing her correctly. I narrowed my eyes slightly, staring at her. She seemed to be... explaining something to him? Was she letting him down gently? But he was hanging onto her every word.

I shook my head, looking back down at my book. It was none of my business what they were talking about. That didn't stop me glancing back up every now and again.

My hot chocolate was gone, and I was just finishing my muffin when Mark walked back over.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, looking down at the table and not meeting my eye.

"Yep." I put the last bit of blueberry in my mouth, and closed my textbook, shoving it back into my bag.

"Can we go for a walk?" Mark asked, and I looked up at him, waiting for him to properly look at me, frowning when he didn't. I glanced over at the girl, now behind the counter again, and she quickly looked away, before looking back over and sending me a thumbs up.

What?

"Sure..." I slung my bag over my shoulder, and followed Mark to the door, which he held open for me. Weird, usually I had to slip out quickly before it closed on me.

"So... I have something to say, and I want you to be deathly silent until I'm finished." Mark announced after we had been walking aimlessly for five minutes.

"By deathly silent, you mean..."

"Don't open your mouth until I'm done."

"Okay." I watched as he took a deep breath, looking down at the floor, and started speaking.

"So, first off, you're amazing. Like, literally, I don't know how you're so smart, but you're the smartest person I know. I don't think I would be passing any of my classes right now without you, and I have no idea how you're passing, because you're learning my stuff as well as your own," he rambled, and I listened, waiting for him to get to the point. Did he want me to stop tutoring him? Was cafe girl going to start helping him instead?

"And you're also, like, insanely pretty." What? "You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen, and I hope you haven't noticed me staring at you ever, because I will die of mortification if you have. And even though we've been friends forever and you know everything about me that is gross and disgusting, I also know everything gross about you and I don't feel any different, so I'm hoping that, maybe, you might pity me enough after this terrible speech, to perhaps go out on a date with me?"

My mouth hung open, my eyebrows slightly creased as I stared at him. He looked me in the eye, waiting for my answer, but I couldn't make my brain connect to my mouth.

"The confused silence isn't really what I was after..." Mark said, awkwardly chuckling, before falling silent again.

"What about cafe girl?" I finally asked, and Mark frowned.

"Poppy? She's my second cousin. She's been trying to get me to ask you out for weeks, and she's been helping me figure out what to say and do. The rambling speech wasn't part of the plan, but still."

"You want to take me on a date?" I asked and he nodded, looking down at the floor and moving a stone along the path with the toe of his shoe. I don't think I've ever seen him looking so bashful.

"Okay."

"Yes?" Mark's gaze shot up, and grin pulled at his mouth.

"I'm just curious at how you haven't seen me looking at you... I'm not exactly subtle about it." I said, smiling.

"How do you know I haven't?" Mark asked, and I reached up and pushed him playfully.

"You're so annoying." I told him and he nodded.

"I know. Does this mean now we can walk and hold hands?" he asked, and I pretended to think about it before holding out my hand to him.

"I suppose." His hand closed around him, his fingers entwining with mine. It felt comfortable, safe, right. "So where are we going on this date?"

"I was thinking the cafe?" he said seriously, but I could understand the sarcasm behind his words.

"No way, if the place doesn't have burgers, I'm not going."

"Great, I'll pick you up at six. And by that, I mean I'll knock on your door at six, and then we'll walk."

"Sounds perfect."

And done!

I must be in some sort of mood, because recently, all I've been writing is sappy romance stuff. I just want to hold hands with someone and cuddle while watching movies, is that too much to ask?!

Okay, that's all for now...

Bye!