Cold Cups of Coffee | Teen Ink

Cold Cups of Coffee

April 10, 2014
By dyolings BRONZE, Canton, Michigan
dyolings BRONZE, Canton, Michigan
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Music has no language." by CL


Kiyoko sat and stared out the window, the cars driving past in what seemed like slow motion. She carefully sipped the cup of coffee in her hands; the rings on her right hand clinked against the cheap plastic of the coffee cup. Cold and stale, the flavor was long gone from the coffee. Bland, brown liquid rippled in the cup as Kiyoko gently set it down once more. She blinked her dull brown eyes watching the people walk by.
“Is this seat taken?” a voice asked, but she didn’t hear. The person sighed, and tried again. “Hello? I asked if this seat was taken.”
She didn’t even blink.
“Fine. Next time just say it is.” The person sighed, rolling their eyes and moved on.
Kiyoko continued to stare out the window. A woman dressed in business clothes hurried past, a man with his wife and family stopped to take pictures of everything, a huddle of teenage girls spoke excitedly on their cell phones.
“Excuse me?” said a woman, coming up and tapping her on the shoulder.
Kiyoko looked up. Her eyes wavered away from the woman’s fierce gaze.
“If you’re done, please leave. You’re taking up space that other customers can use.” She said, placing a hand on her hip.
Kiyoko watched the waitress’s lips move, but no sound came out. She just stared at her, unable to speak.
“I asked you to leave.” The woman said again, pointing to the door. There was a lipstick smudge on her front left tooth. It was light pink.
Kiyoko blinked a few times, staring at the exit.
The woman rapped her knuckles on the table impatiently and pointed to the door once more.
The vibration shook the grimy table; Kiyoko practically jumped up. Frightened by the waitress’s actions she pulled her coat on and stumbled out of the restaurant—leaving the coffee behind.
“Geez...” the woman muttered to herself, “it’s like trying to communicate with a baby.”
Kiyoko strolled outside, pulling her thick coat close against the brisk wind. She ambled down the street, oblivious to the world around her. The streets were beginning to slow down, people disappearing from the sidewalks. Dinnertime was evidently approaching.
Suddenly, a man accidentally slammed into her shoulder while talking on the phone. Kiyoko, pushed to the side, struggled for a moment to regain her balance from the impact. By the time she looked up, the man was long gone. Her expression fell. Not a word. Shaking the experience off, Kiyoko kept going, holding her head up high.
She studied the sky as she walked, having memorized the way. Clouds moved across the gray sky; the sun peeked through the gaps in clouds. To others, the day was gloomy and dull. To her, it was beautiful.
Kiyoko continued to walk until she came to a park. A wooden bench facing the sidewalk, empty just for her. The worn seat felt soft under her palm.
“Hey pretty girl!” a boys voice called out, his words slurring into each other.
Kiyoko couldn’t hear him, and it was getting too dark to see. She set down her bag beside her and stared up, mesmerized.
“Yeah you, pretty girl, on the bench~” The same boy hollered again, his friends urging him on. He stumbled up, woozy from drinking. “Won’t you come give these boys here a little kiss? We’re awfully lonely down here.” He crept up behind her.
Kiyoko sat there, her head tilted to once side, looking at something in the darkness. She looked deep in thought, her back facing the park. A few loners still walked by, headed home after a long day of work, passing her by.
“Like a pretty porcelain doll.” The boy muttered under his breath, studying her figure like an item for sale; he was judging whether or not it was worth the effort.
Kiyoko felt the boy’s presence behind her and quickly stood up, backing away.
“Hey,” the he said, stepped forward and stumbling. “How’s it going…?”
Kiyoko took a small step forward and reached for her bag on the bench. Just as her hand made contact with the fabric, another hand locked around her wrist and yanked her forward.
“Got you.” The boy stated simply, a smirk playing on the corners of his mouth.
Kiyoko stepped back and yanked her arm, trying to pull out of his iron grip. Her bag swung against her side.
“What, cat got your tongue?” he asked again in a sing-song voice.
Kiyoko bit her lip, trying not to quiver in fear. Before, her sister had been there to protect her, but now it was just her. If only she could just scream for help. If only she could break that stupid habit of hers and open her mouth. She took a deep breath and parted her lips, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Leave her alone.” A gruff voice said, “She wasn’t bothering you, was she?” A rough hand pried hers out of the boys grip.
“S-sorry mister…” the boy said, and bowed his head.
Kiyoko opened one eye to see the boy practically trembling. She then opened both, curious to see her savior.
“Go home. Before I call the cops.” The stranger repeated.
The boy nodded, and he stumbled backwards.
The stranger then looked down at Kiyoko, his eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked kindly.
Kiyoko just looked at him, unable to understand what was happening.
“Next time scream, okay? Don’t let them creep up on you like that.” He continued, but then noticed Kiyoko’s blank stare. “Are you okay?” he asked again.
Kiyoko bowed her head in emabarassment and motioned to her ears.
He looked at her, confused.
She bit her lip, flustered, mentally scolding herself. Kiyoko then dug through her bag and pulled out a notebook and a pencil.
‘I can’t hear you.’ She scribbled onto the paper.
“Are you okay?!” He said, taking care to enunciate each word.
Kiyoko watched his lips, and then shook her head. ‘I can’t hear anything.’ She wrote shakily.
“Oh.” He said, nodding his head in understanding.
Kiyoko patiently waited for the sympathetic look that usually followed, already feeling downgraded enough, but there was none.
Instead, he pointed to the pen and paper.
Kiyoko nodded, passing it to him, curious to see what he was going to write.
‘Are you okay?’ He wrote neatly and slowly.
Kiyoko nodded, hating herself for her inability to be independent.
‘Then do you need a ride home? I was just about to call a taxi.’ He added.
Kiyoko shook her head, and pointed to her wrist, where a watch should be.
“Oh-the time.” He said, and pulled out his phone, tilting the display towards her.
Kiyoko frowned, noticing she was running late. Her worried expression said everything.
“A-are you running late? Can I at least walk you home?” he asked, “It’s not safe.”
Kiyoko just repeatedly shook her head. His kind eyes met hers and she was immediately engulfed in warmth, despite the cold evening. She searched and searched for something in his eyes, but all she saw was her own reflection.
Kiyoko paused-she had to do something. She couldn’t just leave him hanging.
“Thank you.” She spoke out in a soft voice, so timid he could barely hear.
But he did hear. A grin slowly spread across his face; he looked blissfully happy.
There was a beat. His mouth opened to say something more. Her toes turned the other direction. His voice began, but she had already ended.
“At least let me take you out for coffee.”


The author's comments:
Developed in hopes that people will see that sometimes it's others that bring out the best in themselves.

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