Two decaf coffees and two extra-large chocolate doughnuts

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  • Published: 8 Aug 2012
  • Updated: 17 Aug 2012
  • Status: Complete
*Winner of the Beatgirl fan fiction competition!*
Everyone loves coffee and extra-large chocolate doughnuts and Amy is no exception to this. From money problems to bonding over decaf coffees, this is one unique story to show how determination and love can change everything. How will Amy cope with the pressure?

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6. Mr Jennings

 I stared down at the guitar in my hands. Why had I agreed to this? Was I purposely trying to humiliate myself? What even was the point? I hadn’t tried to play one of these since year 5 and for a good reason too. I have not a single musical bone in my body.

 My life has been centred around fashion since I was about eight and I have never found the need to carry on with the guitar lessons my mum had forced me to go to with Mr Jennings from down the road when I was 9. She’d yell at me for not practising and on Tuesday afternoons when my guitar lesson was due I’d play truant and walk down to the nearby park instead. I wasn’t an amazing musical genius like Heather. I was just plain old me and when Heather was practising for grade 6 piano, I was colouring in a Cinderella dot to dot picture in an boring old kid’s magazine. Not that I was brilliant at colouring in either.

 I ran my fingers delicately over the dark glossy surface while holding the neck of the guitar with my left hand. I bit my lip and pretended I was greeting an old friend, wrapping my arms around it and stroking the strings with my fingertips. It was no good though. You can’t trick yourself into believing that you like something that you really don’t. The truth will was come back to you and bite you in the butt. Not literally.

“This is so not what I imagined when you said you’d take me out on a date.” I confessed looking directly into Leo’s bright eyes. They’d changed colour again; a dark emerald green this time. Mysterious and expensive looking.

Leo pulled his chair slightly closer to mine, decreasing the amount of distance between us. “What? So you thought I’d take you to some ultra-posh snazzy restaurant with some kind of five star rating and there’d be lots of little waiters and waitresses serving us wearing black tuxedos.” The corner of his mouth curled upwards mocking me. He ran his broad fingers through his messy hair. “Maybe I would order a spring pea and mint soup and you’d spend forever debilitating over their big selection of cultural dishes until finally deciding and ordering a wild salmon and spinach fish cake. You’d laugh at all my jokes even when they weren’t even that funny and I’d tell you how beautiful you looked in your outfit in exchange. Then after we’d eaten we’d go out onto beach and take a stroll in the moonlight with the waves lapping at our feet and then finally I’d walk you back to your flat and give you a light peck on the cheek and wish you goodnight.” He half smiled finding it somehow amusing.

 “No! That’s not what I meant…” I said frowning and tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

“Yeah right. Instead you’re stuck in the same lousy café you come to every day, learning how to play the guitar with a guy you consider irritating, obnoxious and completely inferior to someone like yourself.” Did he really think I thought that badly of him? Because I don’t. I don’t mean to say he doesn’t ever get on my nerves because he most definitely does.

“No wait listen…” I said placing the guitar on the ground by our feet.

“Why should I listen? I can’t afford to take every girl I like to places like that or I’d go bankrupted.”

I blinked. Did he just say what I think he’d just said? “Wait… did you just say you liked me?” I felt my cheek getting hotter and I looked down at the floor avoiding his piercing eyes. Why did it matter so much to me that he liked me? I was in love with someone else and had been for a while now. I barely knew this guy and he was forever making fun of me and yet I still cared about what he had just said. “You know it’s rude to interrupt someone while they’re talking.” I stated, raising my eyebrows and crossing my arms tightly in front of me.

 He blinked his sarcasm turning into confusion. “What?”

“What I’ve been trying to say is that the only thing that is slightly wrong with our ‘date’ is the fact that we’re in this café after closing time and you kind of stole your boss’s key to get in here. Which unless I’m mistaken is illegal.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You’re too righteous. Live a little on the wild side." I frowned at him tying to make him feel guilty. "Come on its not like we broke in, we did have a key.” He answered my frown.

“Leo…” I said sternly narrowing my eyes at him.

He sighed and leant back on his chair. “Don’t worry its fine, my dad’s the owner and he won’t mind.” Wow. So that’s why he was working in this café. “I just thought we should have our date in the place we met and you’d find it all romantic and all that crap.” He blushed. Well he would have blushed if he hadn’t been so annoyed.

“Well it might have been romantic if you hadn’t just said it like that.” I bit my lip again. If I kept this up I was going to have a bust lip at the end of this. “There’s just one other problem. I can’t play the guitar.”

 “I know that’s why I’m teaching you.” He grinned.

“Yeah but I really can’t play the guitar.” I said putting emphasis on the ‘really’ part of my sentence.

He stood up and held out his hand to me, which I took cautiously not quite sure what he was up to. He bent down and picked up his guitar, the muscles in his arms stretching and extending as he did so. Not that I was looking at his muscles. Because I most certainly wasn’t. Not really. I narrowed my eyes at him watching him suspiciously as he at lightning speed moved so he was behind me and pulled the guitar strap over my head before I had time to complain. I groaned in protest but he ignored me grabbing my hands and placing them on the butt and neck of the guitar forcing me to hold the wretched thing.

Holding the neck of the guitar from behind me he guided my fingers into position. “…and that my friend is the cord A minor.” He whispered in my ear, all the tiny hairs on my neck standing on end. I felt my heart beating heavily in my chest as he loosened my fingers from A minor and rearranged them again into a different position. “Then this is what I like to call A major…”

I twisted my head away from his ever so close lips, “Could you please give me my personal space back please?” I grinded my teeth together and tried to pull away from him.

 He slid his arms around my waist and pulled me even closer to him. “How am I supposed to teach you if I don’t show you the chords?” He whispered in my ear slyly, teasing me.

“Have you ever tried teaching someone by showing them the guitar chords on the guitar yourself then swopping around and letting them have a go on the guitar themselves? That way you wouldn’t have to invade their personal space.” I snapped.

“Yeah but that way wouldn’t be any fun.” He grinned slowly tipping my head back and pressing his lips on the bare skin of my neck. My neck felt like it was on fire and I so badly wanted to just lean back and let him carry on moving his lips up and down my neck like that but I just couldn’t. I’d promised Heather I wouldn’t fall for him. Which I wasn’t. I most definitely wasn’t.

“Cut it out!” I twisted my neck away from him. “You're supposed to be giving me a music lesson and nothing else.”

“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked me pulling at the coils of my crazy frizzy hair with one of his hands.

“Urrrrr…it’s red. Why are you asking me this?” I said letting go of the butt of the guitar, freeing up one of my hands and swotting his hand away from my hair with the free hand.

“Favourite animal?” He asked letting go of my hair and waist and gently pulling my hands back into position on the guitar. He rearranged my fingers again on the guitar. “C major.” He stated.

“Arctic foxes.” I mumbled. What was he up to? Why was he so interested in me?

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a fashion designer.” I don’t even know why I was telling him all this. “On Dunnington road.” I added quickly.

“You know you shouldn’t have to dye your hair. You should be proud of being a frizzy haired brunette.”

“My hair is not frizzy! It’s just a bit on the crazy side, and most of the time I straighten it anyway.” I frowned.

“I like crazy. Crazy suits you.” He grinned kissing my neck again.

“Get off. You’re so annoying.” I mumbled my neck feeling all warm and tingly again.

“Favourite food?” He inquired altering the position again that our fingers were in on the guitar neck. I didn’t know there were so many chords on a guitar; it’s surprising how he remembers them all.

I frowned. “Chicken kieves.” Gotta love chicken kieves. You can quickly pop them in the oven and BAAM their done. Quick, easy and efficient. Not to mention tasty.  

“Favourite drink?”

“Duh decaf coffee.” I found my lips curl up at the edges into a smile.

“I guess that was a bit of a stupid question.” He grinned back.

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