Breaking Faith… 3 more pages for 400 likes.

Posted: April 25, 2015 in Uncategorized

The first three pages of Breaking Faith were such a hit, I was asked to post more. I promised when I my author page hit 400 I would post more.

If you have’t want to like my Facebook page

and if you didn’t get to read the first three pages.

Keeping busy with my school work, I avoided the pity-filled stares from my peers. I owned my pariah status with pride, never letting them know how self-conscious they made me.

My scholarship was awarded before graduation, mocking my life of teenage solitude. When I received the acceptance letter, panic sliced through me and I flat out refused to leave. After much coaxing and bribing, of the Mustang variety, I reluctantly agreed to go.

I found myself without the foundation of my dad, in a new state, trying to find my way.

My freshman year was uneventful. Throughout the year I could be found in my dorm room studying. I wanted to make sure the university knew they weren’t wasting their time and money on me.

During summer break, I got a job at the local coffee shop, Cool Beans. The extra money assisted in my one non-school related obsession, shoes.

I was paranoid to use my savings. The money started accruing as soon as my mom, the flake, produced a positive pregnancy test. Worried that if I spent it on something frivolous, the universe would enact punishment. Guilt was not an emotion I wanted to surface when purchasing a new pair of heels; that would be tragic.

During my first shift at Cool Beans, I met Jason.

He had dark brown eyes that sparkled when he laughed, and sandy blonde hair chopped close to his head, reminiscent of the newly sworn in police cadets.

I couldn’t ogle the fine specimen in front of me, being there was an irate middle-aged customer, with a raging case of short man syndrome screaming at me. By accident, I put one shot of espresso in his coffee instead of the two he had ordered.

I figured I had unknowingly done him a favor.

Gazing at the bulging veins popping out of the angry customer’s neck, I remained patient, waiting for them to explode from the extreme strain they were under.

His hair had successfully emulated a cul-de-sac, and the buttons around his enlarged middle strained to stay together.

I apologized and remade his order when Jason came to my rescue. Jason spun Mr. One-Shot-Down around as if he weighed nothing.

The guy spewed an anger-filled rant until he saw the size of Jason and restrained the rest of his words. His cowardliness caused me to stare at the floor to hide a smirk.

“Apologize to her,” Jason commanded through clenched teeth.

The man turned bright red, refusing to do as Jason demanded.

Using the most convincing smile I could muster, I sputtered, “No, no it’s ok. I messed up his order.”

“No,” Jason declared, giving me a stern look, before turning his gaze back to the man he still had by the shoulders. “A missing shot is no reason to yell at a beautiful girl. Hell, she did your poor heart a favor.”

The firm look he gave his prisoner made him turn an even brighter shade of red. Jason’s hostage then noticed he held the attention of everyone in the coffee shop and struggled to get away. Jason just gripped him tighter.

I blushed after hearing this perfect specimen call me, of all people, beautiful. The captured customer muttered his apology, and only then did Jason release him.

As soon as the apology left his mouth, my first angry customer turned around and fled, not bothering to take the cup containing his now correct order.

“Thank you,” I said to my hero, trying to stand up straight and exude fake confidence.

He smiled and I swear I heard angels sing, or orgasm, whatever fit.

“You are welcome, but I don’t think your ‘thank you’ will be enough for what I just did.”

“Of course, your drink is on the house.”

I moved to make his drink, the one he hadn’t ordered yet. This made him throw back his head and laugh. The muscles in his neck bulged from his amusement, resembling the man he just released.

I gave him a puzzled look, confused by his laughter. He then asked me a question that threw my whole axis off balance. “What time do you get off?” He looked at my name tag and added, “Faith.”

“Uhmm, in four hours,” I replied, looking at the clock behind the espresso machine, still puzzled at what type of apology he thought he was entitled to receive.

He nodded and walked away. Right before he stepped out of the shop, he glanced at me with a wicked grin. “I will pick you up in four hours. My name is Jason, by the way.” He then winked and vanished.

My boss, Ginger, who had been watching with the rest of the customers, patted my shoulder, reaching around to close my open mouth with her index finger.

“Did that just happen?” I whispered, ignoring everyone else, still looking at the empty doorway.

“Yep,” Ginger responded, laughing and telling me to take a break.

In the bathroom I splashed cold water on my face, obsessing over every detail of our encounter.

Why me? I studied my face, yearning to find something, anything to validate Jason’s interest. I shook my head, assured the answer would continue to elude me.

My dark brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail giving me an unobstructed view of my face. Thanks to Portland’s fantastic weather, my skin had a pale hue to it, making my green eyes stand out large and uncertain. The smattering of freckles on my nose prominent under the fluorescent lighting.

I shook my head in disgust. Hell, if my own mother couldn’t stand to be near me, there was no reason for someone like Jason to spend any time with me.

I left the bathroom frustrated. As the minutes ticked away, I found myself getting more and more anxious. When my shift ended, I glanced around the coffee shop to check if he was there. I knew he wasn’t because I had scanned the room every time someone entered.

Of course he wouldn’t show up, someone that gorgeous had no reason to go on a date with me, I scolded myself, reiterating the dark thoughts I had in the bathroom. He probably was trying to get me to stop staring at him like some slack-jawed lackey.

I left the coffee shop feeling dejected and stupid for believing he meant what he said. As I headed to my car, I heard his deep voice behind me.

“Hey, you aren’t ditching me, are you?”

Stunned, I turned around to my knight in coffee justice leaning on the wall of the back entrance of the shop, his muscles doing that delicious bulgy thing.

  1. […] Breaking Faith… 3 more pages for 400 likes. […]


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