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Chapter 5- Busted

Chapter 5

Florence Walker

I sighed, massaging my head. I couldn’t walk home because it was unbearably cold, and my phone just had to drain out of battery. So I had to use the coffee shop’s phone.

“HELLO?” Mom yelled from the other end.

I flinched.

“Er- Mom, it’s me.. Flo?” I whispered.

There was a heavy silence, and I heard Mom breathing heavily.


The cashier woman stared at me, alarmed at Mom's voice through the phone. l sighed.

"Susan and I went for coffee.. can you pick me up?”

Another silence.

"Stay tight. Move a muscle, you won’t have any muscles.” She said in a scary whisper.

She hung up.

I looked around to make sure the college boys didn't reappear. I shook my head in confusion. Susan dating a college boy was one thing, but him beating me was another. I made a mental note to yell at her later.

Once the coast was clear, I plopped in a vacant booth.

The coffee shop wasn’t one of the newer cafes. In the farthest part of the shop, the floor was checkered black and white, with old jukeboxes. It never bothered me that this cafe was the only old one in town. Here in California, we have a reputation for gleaming new things... and plastic surgery.

Someone shuffled over to the jukebox. And they turned on my favorite song, Billy Joel, Uptown girl. Sure, it was old, but I liked it.

Everyone automatically got up, paired up with someone and started dancing.

"The best couple dance wins a sandwich and a drink, on the house!" The Cashier said merrily from behind the counter.

The dancing intensified from the couples. My stomach growled-- sandwiches and a drink sure sounds good right about now.

"Care to dance?" An all too-familiar voice said behind me.

I turned around and sure enough, Blake was standing behind me, an workers- apron around his waist. I felt like I got punched in the face again.

"What the hell are you doing here? When did you get here?" I yelped in alarm.

Blake pointed at his apron, rolling his eyes.

"Um. Isn't it obvious I work here? I just clocked in." Blake said. "Care to dance?"

"I don't dance. Plus, the food here sucks. I'd rather die than eat a sandwich from here." I lied.

That wasn't true. I'd die for the food here.

Blake feigned shocked.

"Oh. My uncle owns this Cafe-- he created the whole menu. Well, I better go tell him a customer thinks his food is dreadful..." Blake said, walking to the kitchens.

I grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Wait, no, I was lying! I love the food here! Don't tell him, please!" I begged.

Blake gave one of his signature evil smirks.

"One condition. Dance with me. I saw your face when she mentioned food. You're cold and you're hungry so consider me doing you a favor. Blake said.

I sighed exaggeratedly. On any other occasion, my pride would've not let me go through with this. But I was hungry and freezing.

I sprung up and put my hand out. "Let's dance."

His face registered pure shock, but he smoothly covered it an indifferent expression. I smirked-- he didn't think I'd actually do it.

He awkwardly put his hands around my waist my hands were around his neck, and we did this little circle dance.

“So...” I trailed off.

“Yeah.” He said. It was funny to see him speechless.

We did more awkward turns. He did a tango trust fall, and I freaked out.

“You jerk, don’t you know how to dance?” I muttered at him.

He chuckled.

“I’m a better dancer than you.” He responded calmly.

I huffed.

The coffee shop door suddenly opened, and cold air swept the shop. I turned towards the door and gasped.

Mom was standing there, in her neon pink tank top, grey shorts that had ‘HIPPIE LIFE’ over her butt. I hadn't anticipated she'd come this quickly.

“FLOOOOO!” She yelled.

I could’ve sworn right then and there, she caused an earthquake. Everyone was staring at me.

“I’M ASLEEP FOR 5 MINUTES, AND YOU SNEAK OUT?” She yelled, advancing on me.

The soft music in the background was hastily turned off by Blake, who then decided it would be genius to put his arms around my waist. Which of course, Mom noticed.


Blake made a small cough in the back of his throat. Mom turned to him.

“Problem?” Mom asked him harshly.

Blake looked affronted, but quickly looked cool again.

“Well... ‘bad boy’.. really...?” He asked quietly.

Mom stared at him.

“Would you rather me call you a ′bitch dick face, go fuck off’?” She screeched.

The cashier woman tentatively came over to Mom.

“Excuse me ma’am, but we don’t allow that sort of talk... with the kids here and all.” She said.

Mom huffed.

“Alright, we’re leaving.” Mom said.

She held onto my arm so tightly, I could already feel the purple bruises blossoming on my arm.

“You're not going anywhere anymore. You hear me?” Mom yelled at me once I was trapped in the car.

She started slapping my face, yelling at me. I didn’t cry because there were worse to come.

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