Chapter 8

I had many strange experiences. There was the time that Casper was mistaken as a fugitive in another country, not because he was deceptively well spoken, opinionated, nor was it due to the wallet he was carrying that had a suspicious amount of money in it. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. For the sake of argument, maybe it was my fault that lead the authorities to think that way. Maybe I wanted to see how they'd react if I used reverse psychology on them. My parents weren't happy that they had to make some calls to clear things out. Casper in particular was fuming mad.

Who could forget that instance when I seduced the Sultan's son with promises of a good night even though he was engaged? There were threats of beheading after he was found leaving his chamber straight for the guest room. My room. Yada, yada, yada. All's well that ends well, I say. We weren't banned from the country after things were sorted. He still pursued his wedding. They were overreacting.

I could read what's on your mind. The one whose eyes were on this story. How come so many things have happened to me? It was to my belief that adventure should be pursued, not wished for. In time, when adventure has become a friend, an ally, the wheels would turn. You would no longer need to chase after adventure. It would come for you. Maybe that was what happened to me, which brings us back to the story.

Among the many different strange experiences I had, this was probably the least unannounced. Me waking up on the floor, head leaning on a door frame, legs crossed. I was woken by someone tapping my shoulders saying, "Excuse me. Can you let me pass through?" I looked around in a state of confusion till she said again, "I'd really want to go home. You're in the way." I realized that I was beyond a doorway, blocking her exit.

"Sorry," I said, moving away. The woman didn't look behind as she left in a hurry. I sat there for a minute or two, wondering where I was, recounting the events that happened prior. Did I hit my head?

What was a girl to do in this situation except glance southwards to see if her clothes had been disturbed. Mine wasn't. My jeans was positioned correctly, zipper up, buttoned into place. I exhaled. Losing my virginity while passed out wasn't good. No siree. Even if Lulu would classify me as the biggest tease, everything about me was intact. Mayer would be proud. Who was Mayer again?

After the assessment, I pushed myself up with a grunt and looked behind me, to the place I have taken refuge from. There were people, lots of them. Maybe someone from inside could tell me any information.

Soft, catchy jazz music reached my ears soon as I opened the door. I inhaled, appreciating the smell of roasted beans and cream in the air. It was a full house for the cafe, though I recognized none of the customers.

"Hi," I said, once reaching the counter. The barista, a stooped old lady wearing a yellow apron and a flower crown, smiled at me. Everyone was wearing flower crowns. Did I somehow stumble into a party of some sort? "This may seem weird coming from a stranger," I continued, turning back to her. "Did you see anyone, uhh, suspicious in the vicinity? I woke up next to your door a while ago. I was wondering who brought me here."

The old woman fixed her gaze on me, crow's feet appearing on the side of her eyes. I stared right back. She shook her head. "Didn't see anyone, miss, except for the usual customers. You must be new to the neighborhood. Haven't come across your face before." Her concern grew when I nodded. She gestured to the only free chair on the corner. "I usually reserve that spot for Lynx, but since she's not here, you might as well take it. I'll bring you coffee in a few. On the house. You look like you need it."

"Thank you." I went to the unoccupied spot. Who this Lynx was, I didn't know. Where I was, I didn't know either. I did a quick scan of the coffee shop. It had yellow lights hanging above the tables, customary with cafe's. The furniture's were matching colors of brown, beige, with a pop of blue and orange here and there. On the walls were framed quotes, cliché ones relating to coffee like, 'I only need coffee in days ending with Y.' And there was a chalkboard near the counter announcing the drink for the day. Tonight it was peppermint mocha.

All of this might seem normal at first glance, yet I couldn't shake off a strange feeling. There was something about this place that wasn't like any I've visited before. I couldn't put my finger on it.

A group of girls from the next table startled me when they all gave a cry of frustration as their game of Jenga toppled to its bitter end. At the same time, the strong scent of caffeine wafted in my nose as the old lady from the counter put a cup in front of me. "They're a lively bunch," she commented.

"Is it always this full?" I asked, sipping on the coffee. I did a double take on the liquid I just drank. Creamy and rich without being overpowering. It was actually good.

"I'm afraid this is always the case, but you'll find your place if you stick around. Most of them are friends. We have a tight-knit community here," the old lady explained.

"I can imagine." My attention was drawn to two girls sitting side by side, sharing a deep look. I continued drinking my coffee. Hmmm. Peachy. The next time I blinked, they had their lips locked together, tongue darting out of their mouths, arms wrapped possessively around each other. My jaw dropped.

"Don't mind them," the old lady said. "Those two lovebirds are always fighting in the morning and making up at night. We're all used to it."

A fast sweep on the place made me realize something. All women. No guys. Most of them were in groups, but the girls that weren't were accompanied by another woman who was focused on them, as if they were on a date.

The corner of my lips pulled into a mischievous smile. Ideas were on my head, the bolts and nuts sealing into place. I jumped up, putting a hand on the old woman's shoulder. "Please tell this Lynx person that I'm grateful she opened a spot for me tonight," I said.

The old woman knew that I was about to leave. I had that look on me. "Are you coming back?"

“Definitely."