Intro
Real life Cupid’s can be real life idiots, and one of them thought it fitting to screw my life up even more than it already is. That’s what I’d like to say, but there’s no such thing as a Cupid. I used to think that love is always good, and if you love someone you wouldn’t hurt them. Emit proved that to be just another childhood delusion, and teenage delusion. Being completely alone for so long lured me into a false sense of security, and kept me thinking that a relationship would make me feel better instead of worse. I yearned for love and now I despise it. Love doesn’t act the same for everyone, and for Emit it’s a violent, obsessive emotion. I’ve tried to escape him, but I guess love always finds a way, he always finds a way. I was friends with him for a while before we got together, and he seemed like a wholesome guy. It was like a flip switched when he confessed, he was so set on being in a relationship that I couldn’t think about it long enough before he pushed for an answer. When I say that I mean he didn’t give me five seconds before demanding an answer. I was so desperate that I couldn’t say no, and I don’t think he would’ve taken it for an answer. One moment he was a friendly overall nice guy, the next he was an obsessive stalker. Hence my Cupid theory.
I mean, when we were just friends I didn’t see it going anywhere else. He’s attractive and successful, and I’m a struggling artist with bad people skills who has zero confidence in my own appearance. It seemed like he was on the same page, so I couldn’t fathom what our relationship would turn into. Here I am, sitting in an almost empty studio apartment, miles and miles away from Emit. The worst thing is, I know that won’t last long. He always comes after me. I did love him, not anymore. But Emit doesn’t care. He’ll do anything he can to get to me, it’s almost like he can’t stay away. I hear the door open and my head instinctively snaps towards it. One of the movers walks in holding a stack of cardboard boxes, he smiles at me as he sets them down.
“You okay? Usually moving towns is exciting, so what’s that depressing face for?” His voice is coarse, you can tell that he’s an avid smoker with every inconsistency in his tonality. I hate smokers, especially nosy ones.
I don’t look his way. “I’m alright. I won’t be here long before I have to move again. It gets less exciting every time you move.” And more expensive, and more tedious, and more of a goddamn pain in my ass.
“Running from something?” I was about to say ‘None of your Business’ before another mover swung the door open and walked in. God. I’m such a grump today. I think by the time I get out of this I’ll be fresh out of pleasantness.
Mover number two plunks down his stack of boxes next to me. “Theo, we’re bringing up furniture so we need you downstairs.” He orders, pulling the smoker out of the room.
With my small lineup of furniture placed inside the apartment, I’m faced with two options: Unpack the rest of my stuff and make this house a home, or leave everything in the boxes and go out like I always do. It’s gonna be the latter, of course. Unpacking would be a fruitless effort, I’d only have to pack up and move again. I sigh, picking myself up off of my ass, grabbing my purse and walking out the door. Maybe I’ll find something new in this town, someone new, someone good, somebody who’s not Emit.
There’s a cool breeze blowing through my hair, causing some of the dirty blonde strands to fall out of the half-assed braid I did this morning. It’s late afternoon and the streets aren’t exactly bustling, just the occasional passerby. I picked a fairly small town this time, but I know Emit will have no trouble tracking me down. I’m just hoping I’ll have a longer vacation from the hell that is my life, even if it’s just a couple extra days. A small coffee shop on one of the street corners catches my eye. The sign on the brick building reads Amielle’s Coffee Corner, the lettering is a cursive red font. I’m a sucker for locally owned food places, even the not so good ones. I don’t know why, but they make me feel safe. As I push open the door a bell jingles, and I crack a smile. The shop has dark wood tables and counters, with cranberry red accents throughout the room. There are fairy lights strung up above the windows, a table and chairs placed up against each one. The tables by the windows are all taken, and most of the comfy red sofas and loveseats as well. It’s not completely packed so I focus instead on getting myself some coffee. I introduce myself to the talkative barista, a middle aged woman named Lisa. She seems fairly stuck on talking about my move, which I’d rather avoid in friendly conversation. After she pushes me a little too much I decide to sit and wait for my drink, staring at the wooden table as I’m lost in thought. Hopefully she won’t hold it against me, not that I’ll be staying for more than two weeks. I should start planning my next move anyways in case Emit gets crafty. I sigh dramatically.
I’m startled when I hear the screech of a chair pulling out from across me. “Are you okay?” A male voice delivers, the sound like velvet, a voice that could make any girls panties drop with a single word. But not me, and especially not today.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that today?” I finally look up from the as I practically scream the question. My breath hitches as our eyes meet, I’m completely unsure of how to react. I’ve never seen a man that looks like that, not even in magazines. Eyes like amber, hair a rusty red that’s not too long, not too short. A nose that’s perfectly prominent, with a sculpted face that’s somehow not frightening, lips... Holy shit. I probably look like a drooling idiot right about now. I snap out of it and shoot up out of my seat.
“Coffee...” I whisper to myself “I have to get my coffee.” I announce, finding an out and taking full advantage of it. I practically run over to retrieve my coffee, a simple white mocha, and stand there holding it for a minute. I debate leaving the coffee shop and ditching this stranger before I get myself in more trouble, but can’t calm the curious side of me.
I curse under my breath before striding back over to the circular table, where the handsome stranger still waits. I set my coffee down and take my seat, smiling apologetically at him.
“You were going to leave, did I scare you off?” His lips quirk into a smile, I feel a pang of guilt and bite my inner lip. He seems like a nice guy, but I can’t let my guard down. It may make me look like a jerk, but it’s a precaution I have to take.
“It’s nothing personal, really.” I take a sip of my coffee and make that really embarrassing sigh of content, it’s just that good. I hear a rumble of laughter from across the table, which the stranger covers up by clearing his throat after a dirty look from me. I don’t like it when people laugh at me, but I wouldn’t mind hearing a musical laugh like that again.
“So, are you new around here?” The stranger asks as his eyes follow my hands lifting the coffee cup to my mouth.
I take a sip and set it back down on the table. “Sort of.”
“Well I could show you around, if you’d like.” The kind stranger offers with a smile.
I avoid staring at him for too long, trying to convince myself talking to him is a bad idea. “There’s no need. I won’t be staying here long, anyways.” I wet my lips as my eyes start stinging, threatening to let a tear roll down.
He goes silent for a minute, a pained look on his face. “It doesn’t seem like that’s what you really want.” My eyes shoot to his, they’re full of love and understanding, a thousand stories and secrets he would never tell. How can a complete stranger read me like that?
I sniffle and swallow my tears. “I don’t really have a choice.” I don’t make eye contact anymore, nursing my coffee a little bit faster.
“I won’t pry, but I don’t want to leave you alone. I’ll give you my contact information, and you’ll call me if you’re in danger, alright?” He pulls out a notepad and a pen and begins writing it down. “By the way, I’m Porter.”
Porter hands me the paper, it has his email, number and home address written down. Why would I need his address? “I’m Juno.” I offer. “Can you tell me why you’re helping me? We don’t know each other.” I say, still putting the paper in my purse for safe keeping.
“Who knows, maybe we did in another life.” I cock a brow. “I’m only joking. I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do.” I don’t buy those words, no matter who they come from. People always have a motive of some sort.
“Thank you for the gesture, but I don’t think anything would stop hi- um... this from happening.” Ooh. Bad save. Hopefully he didn’t catch that. Porter eyes me warily, but doesn’t say anything. He begins scanning the room and I start to get worried. Emit can’t be here, can he? I’m getting paranoid, there’s no way. And Porter doesn’t even know about Emit so that can’t be it. What is he looking for?
“I have to go, call me.” He says and abruptly gets up and leaves.
I sit there, utterly confused. “O-Okay...” I meekly reply in agreement. The jingle sounds as he speeds out, signaling that he had left the building. What the heck just happened? I stare down at my nearly empty coffee, replaying what just happened in my head. It really did seem like he was just a nice guy checking up on someone, but there was something different about it. I don’t remember seeing him when I walked in, and he hadn’t bought a drink or pastry. It was almost as if he was only there long enough to talk to me. I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into it, but that was just weird. I absently drink the last of my coffee, outright stumped by the entire interaction. Deciding to worry about it later, I shrug my purse over my shoulder and get up to throw away the empty coffee cup. As I reach a counter with a built in trash can, I hear the jingle of the shop door again. My head snaps towards it, and I can only glimpse a blur of white blonde hair and light eyes before the strange man disappears behind the door again. He was looking for Porter. There’s something strange about this town, and I don’t know if I should be scared or curious. I shake my head and toss the cup into one of the holes. I said I’m not going to worry about it now, so I’ll keep to that. It’s time I saw some more of the town before my inevitable move, and when you have limited time, you have to make every second count. I exit the shop and a ray of sun hits me, making me squint. I fumble around my purse searching for my sunglasses, also pulling out my phone to check the time. “3:52 PM.” I say to myself. I have some time to spare before I have to think about getting dinner. The question is, what do I do with it?
