Truth:Chapter 4

Truth:Chapter 4
They were at Coffee Blues again. Christina insisted that I come. She seemed nervous on the phone.
Now, I knew why. She was dressed in a blue dress…was she wearing makeup? I couldn’t tell, but she looked different.
It was a poetry slam, to be honest, most of the people were wanna-be artists and their poetry sucked. When it was finally Christina turned, I had two cups of coffee, it was that tedious.
“I’m Christina Watson, and this is called Parchments.” I saw her take a shaky breath and started .
“ Tear stains spilled on the ink, it prevented me from disbelief, things I wanted to see but were make-believe. I wrote you a letter- a love one you can say. To try to woo you back, to get you on my way. Sleepless nights, and coffee rings on the table, trying to form the perfect sentence to say how I feel. Then one day,I saw you with another. I tried to break my memory of you like a bad habit. Coffee and books cannot replace you, because now I got you like a disease. How can I ever be pleased with nothing else but a memory of you and me?” She paused and then”Thank you. I’m Christina Watson.”
There was more applause for her than anyone else.
I was going to go over there to congratulate her, but Colin got there first. For some insane reason, I was angry at this. I shouldn’t be. They were friends first- but we have been friends for over six months now. I knew her birthday, how she’s terrified of squirrels (which I find adorable), she can consume a cup of coffee in three minutes flat, her favorite movie is Casablanca (which she forced me to watch), she hates animals, and kids remind her of retarded midgets. ..and what does that asshole Colin know? Her “usual”
I clenched my fists.
Great, now they were hugging.
I threw a tip on the table and left.
*
“Tom!” she called out my name
“Yeah?” I turned back.
“We’re all having cake, and Miss.Patty is asking you to join. And by asking, I mean forcing you.”she laughed.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
We walked back into the noisy coffee shop, and I watched as the patrons walked out.
“You did really good out there, Christina. I liked it. Who is it about? Its my turn, by the way.” I smirked. Gotcha.
“It was about a girl in my story I’m writing.” She waved me off.
“Oh?”
“Yes. And no more questions!” she laughed and grabbed my hand so we could get cake.
*
“That cake was gross.” She stated, popping a mint in her mouth.
“Agreed.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Hanging with Greg, why?”
“Nevermind.”
“Why?”
“I just wanted to see if you wanted to help rearrange my furniture, but I could ask Colin.”
Ah, Colin. That punk.
“I’ll help.”
“I thought you are hanging with Greg?”
“You’re better.” Shit. Didn’t mean to let that slip out. “I mean, its better to rearrange furniture than get wasted and have sluts all over you.”
“Oh, I thought that was your type?”
“Ha. I have standards.”
“Hmn.”
Oh, god. Here she goes with the ‘hmn’
“It’s my stop. See you, Tom.”
She got out of the car, and I followed her to walk her to her door.
“See you. “ I said.
We stared.
Her eyes are like honey, I thought.
“Bye.” I hope its never forever, I thought