A/N: Hola, amigos! I am actually starting another fanfic! My second one! Which is why my first SSB fanfic is getting some slow updates. And this is why!
This will be a LoZ one, obviously, and I am trying something new. I'm writing in present tense, and the point of views jump between two people. You can tell by the title who's talkin.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Legend of Zelda, nor I ever will. Nintendo owns LoZ.
Enjoy!
Zelda
Sunday, 5:30 PM
I knew this day would come, though I still prayed it was a dream. And what was that?
High school.
Filthy, high school.
Where we were once the boss, the top of the tier of middle school, to the lowly, pathetic rank in high school as freshman. Where we no longer have lots of known friends and familiar hallways. Where everything is new.
I hate changes.
But on the bright side, I had suffered from this when I went from elementary to middle school. I can survive this too, right?
Sitting on my messy bed mourning for the death of summer vacation, I do not look the most appealing right now. Not wanting to allow anyone access to my unflattering state, my door is locked, and remained locked for the past hour.
"Dinner, honey!" Impa calls for possibly for the seventeenth time. Impa is my awesome, pimp mom.
"I'm not hungry," I repeat for the seventeenth occurrence as well. The angry, grumbling hole in my stomach told me otherwise.
For some irrelevant reason, the sense of change has always made me think back to tragic times like my father's sudden disappearance or the time when my bra fell loose during gym class (stupid weak hooks). Or when I accidentally slapped my geometry teacher because he was drilling me with annoying criticisms when I was at "that time of month." Maybe it's just the sadness.
Or I'm just being paranoid.
Yeah, I must be.
Only once I hear the front door snapping open then closed, and the familiar revving of the car announcing that my mother was leaving to pick up some groceries do I unlock my door and slink out. Pulling on an old sweatshirt and slacks and scraping my hair into a half-hearted braid, I pick at Mom's concoction of (ordered) pizza and step outside into the crisp, chilly air.
I'm opting for some sharp coffee right now. Even if it's 6 PM.
Maybe that can help me focus for the first day of high school tomorrow and drive away the howling in my stomach.
It is a shame that none of my friends can make it tonight. So I'll have to go by myself risking my own butt; something about my mom informing me about creepy guys roaming the streets at night going by myself. But I really want to try the new coffee shop in town. The "pumpkin spice dream mocha" sounds promising.
I walk, because it's only about three blocks away. Besides, I can use some fresh air. It takes about fifteen minutes to walk there, and it takes me a while to locate the small body of the cafe.
My first impression of the coffee shop when I walk in is to appreciate the warm gust of air that followed my arrival. Then I take in the appearance of the inside and the overall atmosphere.
It is very quaint and cozy, but I can't help but notice I am the only customer in this , it is 6 PM after all so I actually might be the weird one here.
I choose a window seat and sit gratefully in the cushiony seat-my feet ache from walking a mile. I peer out at the red and gold raining leaves. Autumn never fails to impress me.
I am wondering, how would my day play out tomorrow? Would I be horribly lost in the daunting hallways of high school? Be picked on? Shoved in a locker? Have crabby teachers?
...Get a boyfriend?
I will have to have a deep and meaningful girl session with my girlies Malon and Ruto. We can discuss how to plan accordingly tomorrow to avoid public humiliation (that's the worst) and possibly make some new friends. Maybe.
Nobody can beat Malon and Ruto in my circle of friends.
I must've been pretty lost in thought because I am suddenly knocked out of my thoughts when I hear a throat clearing. Quickly composing myself, I turn my head nonchalantly to acknowledge whoever wants my attention.
He is a waiter.
My waiter.
"What would you like to sip on today?"
He is wearing a dark green plaid shirt with black slacks and had messy blond hair. His eyes are a gorgeous blue.
And he is undeniably cute.
It takes me a (long) second to realize he is waiting for an answer to a question I don't remember him asking.
I can't take that handsome look he's giving me. So I whip my head the other way and dive into the contents of my purse muttering an excuse along the lines of "I need to get my wallet."
Good job. Zelda, I scold myself.
When I know I can't have my head in my purse any longer for it to be awfully weird, I reluctantly pull my head out and stare back at that smirk he has slapped on his face. I hope my blush isn't too obvious.
"What would you like?" he repeated his question patiently.
A hot waiter in front of me before the first day of high school. Go figure. "I'd like to try the Pumpkin Spice Dream Mocha please. It sounds nice."
To my surprise, the blond waiter laughs a charming laugh. I feel as if I've melted a little.
"I'm sorry," he says after calming down. "It's just that this Pumpkin Spice Dream Mocha you're speaking of already has a bad reputation since this store opened."
"Oh?" I am genuinely curious.
"Who knows? Any drink is labeled a reputation from the first person who tries it out. And this one's first taster thought it tasted horrible." There was that stupid irresistable smirk again.
"Oh, I see," I say.
"But the funny thing is," he piped up, "it's one of my favorites."
I nod. "Alright. I'll give that a try." I toss him a small smile, which is hard considering it takes all my strength to not let that huge, gigantic grin to come out.
He leaves and doesn't notice that my eyes linger a bit too long on his back.
0-0-0
It doesn't take long for my drink to come since I am the only customer in the whole cafe.
I spot that same waiter before he sees me, and when he does, I have to look away from the sudden contact with those dazzling blue eyes. I continue dumbly looking at my lap, wishing I had brought my phone or a book or anything that makes me look as if I'm not suddenly interested in my thighs.
I notice him standing next to me with my peripheral vision, and I am forced to look up, and I am greeted with his hand placing a large cup of a bright orange liquid topped with a mountain of whip on the small marble table in front of me. I admire it, mentally cooing, "Oohs" and "Aaahs."
"Thank you," I start to say, but am thoroughly astonished when he sets an identical drink across from me and places himself in the seat opposite from mine. In that seat.
He's sitting across from me.
He must've noticed my confused expression (way to go, me) because he flashes that killer smile once again and explained, "It gets slow around here. Especially in the evening. And I can't refuse to have my favorite drink when I am forced to make it when it never gets ordered!"
I nod stupidly. Say something, I scold myself. "It looks delicious."
"Trust me, it is." The handsome guy takes a long drawl from his cup, whip smearing his upper lip. That just makes him even more frustrating to ignore.
"What's in it?" I say. "Does it have nuts? Because I'm allergic to nuts and I can't have them, or else I'll break into these nasty rashes and-" I shove the glass in my mouth and gulp down the warm drink to shut myself up. Mmm, this drink really is good. Whoever said this tastes horrible is a knucklehead.
But he just chuckles again and assures me, "There aren't any nuts in here. Just coffee beans, milk, pumpkin, and cinnamon." He picks up his napkin and dabs it on his lips to remove the cream, which is too bad because I was enjoying that look.
It's hard not to stare at him and his gorgeous features. His dirty blond tresses look so soft and fluffy, I want to run my fingers through them. His amazing blue eyes can't compare to my boring, dull shade of blue. His lips look so soft and luscious and-
OMG, Zelda, what the hell are you thinking? I blink my eyes to shake myself back to reality. I stare at his nose, because there's no way I can keep a stable stare at his eyes. Hm, even his nose looks perfect.
"So, may I ask why you are at this coffee shop at six?" he asks.
For all I know, he may be one of those creepy guys Mom warned me about, I think suddenly, still staring at his nose. And it's even more true when I'm by myself! I should've brought my friends for backup or at least had my phone on me. Oh my gosh, I'm so stupid and why-
"Something on my nose?" I instinctively peer up to meet his whole face which has creased with confusion...and was that embarrassment?
No way, I'm the more embarrassed one.
"No, sorry!" I stutter, placing my cheeks in my hands to hopefully cool it off. But he was lifting his empty (when did he finish all that?) glass and peering at his reflection to see if there really is something on that perfect nose.
After an awkward moment of me feeling pathetic on saying that and him checking his nose in his glass, he finally puts it down on the table and his distinguishable smile reemerges.
"If I may ask again, why are you taking time out of your schedule to come to this lowly coffee shop?" He flashes a half smile.
"Oh uh," I stammer, "...just wanting to try something new before I start my first day as a freshman tomorrow." Kill me now, that sounded pathetic.
But instead, his eyebrows shoots up and a full smile comes out.
"Really?" he exclaims. "Because I'm going to start the first day of high school tomorrow, too!"
I smile a genuine smile. It's so cool that I have something in common with this cute guy, much more the same age. Maybe I do have a chance...no, bad girl, Zelda, you're probably only going to see him this one time.
"I'm kinda nervous, you know, from being the top of the tier in middle school to lowly, pathetic freshman in high school," he says wistfully, and my mouth mentally drops open. Can he read minds…?
But I nod and agree sincerely, "I totally agree with that" and tack on, "My mom would want me to excel in all my years of school because I'm her only child." Insert awkward smile.
He grins back at me and comments, "That's cool."
"You have any siblings?"
He looks downcast all of a sudden, and I mentally punch myself for saying something that must be a very sensitive topic for him.
"No," he says sullenly. "...I'm adopted."
"Oh, I'm sorry for asking that!" I blubber, heat jumping to my cheeks once again.
"No, it's okay," he says just as quickly. "It only makes sense to ask that after what you said." He discreetly fans himself with his hand.
I bet I'm making such a great first impression.
"So, why did you get a job here?" I ask as casually as I can.
"My parents want me to get a part-time job to help raise some money."
"Do you like it here?"
"Yea, I guess. Boss is really nice. I am his first worker to be employed."
"Sounds great," I lamely comment.
He checks his watch, and with a startled expression, he says, "Oh, I didn't notice how much time has passed. Sorry to steal some of your needed sleep for school tomorrow."
"Same for you; you must have to get some sleep as well for your classes tomorrow," I reply. I finish the last gulp of the delicious coffee. "Besides, this coffee's probably going to keep me awake for a few more hours yet."
"Me too," he says as he peers at his empty cup.
He gets up from his seat across from me and scoops up both our empty cups. "Thanks for stopping by at 'Outlook Cafe'!" He flashes me a cheery grin.
I smile back and reply, "Thank you. It was a pleasure chatting with you."
Then I remember something.
"Oh! May I ask how much was that drink?" I pull out my wallet, crossing my fingers that I have enough loose cash to pay for the delicious coffee.
But I nearly jump out of my skin by his warm touch on my wrist, effectively stopping me from pulling anything out of my wallet.
"Free," he jumps in. "Free for the person who entertained me during the boring hours of the evening."
Then he notices his hand on my wrist.
He immediately pulls back and apologizes, "Oh sorry!" He turns his back to me and hastily walks to the door where I assume coffee is prepared. He throws a backwards wave and says, "Nice meeting you! Good night, and good luck tomorrow!"
Then he disappears.
...What just happened?
But still, I slowly tug out a five-dollar bill and place it on the table he and I were sitting at. "Good night, and good luck to you too," I whisper at the closed door and allow a small smile to creep out.
I leisurely walk out the glass double doors knowing full well I might not be able to see him again, considering I can't sneak out here every day.
And then I realize, before he had so suddenly turned away, I had caught his name tag pinned on his shirt.
I whisper it slowly, testing it out, and smile at the sound of his name.
Link.
