The Coffee Shop Ch 07 - Teaser

Hola, amigos!
I know it's been awhile since I've posted anything (on Twitter or otherwise), but I promise you, I'm still working hard on TCS and WLand, as well as a few other stories in the works. But mainly I've been focused with school and job-hunting, and unsurprisingly, not many hours of my day are left after pursuing both! Also, I'm kind of a victim of Sloth, so, I kept procrastinating editing and fixing up TCS Ch7 until, well, I ran out of excuses *not* to edit it.
Anyway, besides the long-winded series of excuses, I have something for everyone: a teaser!
Now, this version of TCS 7 is *un*edited, but I don't think much of it will change when it's posted on Lit, apart from grammar, punctuation, etc., etc.
Hope y'all enjoy!!

The Coffee Shop - Chapter Seven Teaser

For the second time that day, Peyton listened to Caleb rehash the details of his father’s abuse, though thankfully he skimmed and Oskar fairly quickly caught on to how deep the damage went. After ten minutes of skimming, Oskar held up his hand and Caleb shuddered to a halt.

“I will represent you,” Oskar said after a few seconds of silence. His jaw muscles ticked under his creamy white skin and for a brief moment Peyton thought the big man might lose control of his emotions. “I will head down to the police station and speak to this Clinton about arranging a meeting with your father.” His cool blue eyes flashed at the mention of Jeremiah and his jaw muscles bunched yet again. “I assure you, Caleb, I will do whatever I can to give you justice.”

“I don’t want justice,” Caleb bit out. “I want him to suffer!”

“Caleb,” Peyton breathed in surprise, shocked by the vehemence in his voice. But Caleb’s icy green glare told her that he truly meant what he said. Justice was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Revenge and vengeance for Jeremy’s cruelty to you will only leave you hollow when it’s done,” Daniel warned in a quiet tone. Caleb’s hand tensed in hers at the rebuke but he didn’t let it show that Daniel’s words stung him.

“Caleb, we understand that‒” Oskar began, but Caleb instantly cut him off.

“No, you don’t!” Caleb shot at him, jerking his hands out from underneath Peyton’s as he stood up swiftly. “You don’t understand!” he snarled. “I lived eighteen years being treated worse than an animal! For eighteen years I had to pretend like everything was normal because when I tried to get help – nobody wanted to help me. Nobody wanted to believe me. All they saw was this scrawny kid with cut marks, black clothes and a bad attitude! You have no idea what it’s like to be me. You don’t understand so stop saying that!”

“Caleb, we’re here for you now,” Peyton said in as even of a tone she could manage, standing up slowly to face him. “My parents, Oskar, and I want to help you. But the only way we can do that is if you help us.”

“We need your statement, your testimony, and evidence,” Oskar cut in. “Give me anything you think can help and I can get your dad put away for a very, very long time. Peyton’s right. We’re here to help you. We may be a few years late, but at least we’re here.”

Caleb’s anger waned slightly as his eyes lingered over every face, reading each expression carefully as though judging them to see if they were sincere or not. When he took Peyton’s outstretched hand again, apparently he had been satisfied with what he saw.

“I told Officer Clinton everything,” Caleb said quietly to Oskar. “The medical examiner came down from the hospital to take pictures. He has everything on file.”

“Pictures?” Lola asked, speaking up for the first time. “Of what?”

“Of the scars,” Caleb murmured tensely, his voice so thin and broken that tears instantly flooded Peyton’s eyes, rolling down her cheeks when she blinked.

One of the agreements she had with Caleb had been not to talk about the scars with her parents. Sure, they knew he had been beaten around by Jeremiah and left by his mother when he was young, and whatever else Caleb had hinted at in the past couple of weeks. But the scars had been kept under wraps.

“I’ll head to the station now then,” Oskar said thickly, clearly overwhelmed with the turn of events. He stood up and Peyton watched as he gathered his nicely tailored overcoat from the back of the chair. “The number for the Barn is the same?” he directed at Daniel. The Irishman nodded stiffly, his hands over his mouth and beard, the pale complexion of his skin even paler. Lola had been stunned into silence, but Peyton knew that wouldn’t last long.

“I’ll be calling soon,” Oskar said in a way of goodbyes as he left the kitchen. The front door of the Barn shut and they listened to the sounds of him walking to his car and the engine roaring to life. No one spoke until the fading sound of tires on gravel was almost gone.

“Caleb…” Daniel began softly.

“Don’t,” Caleb gritted out. “Don’t apologize or pity me.”

Daniel stood and came around the back of the chair and swiftly pulled Caleb up and into a big bear hug that was almost comical to witness due to their see-saw like height proportions. Caleb’s shoulders tensed enormously but he warily put his arms around Daniel to hug the man back.

“I just wanted to say that I understand now why you’re so angry,” Daniel said as he pulled away, his large freckled hands squeezing Caleb’s shoulders. “And why you’re so afraid.” He shook his head slowly. “There is nothing I can say that will make what Jeremy did to you go away or make you feel better. It’ll probably be bullshit anyway, which we both know you have a built-in detector for.”

Caleb must’ve smiled or smirked because Daniel grinned at him. “You’re part of this family now, Caleb. And we help family. Oskar, bless his Dutch soul, will go to the ends of the earth and beyond to get you justice. And we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us.”

Peyton blinked as a colorful floral-scented blur passed by her and had to stifle a laugh as Lola wrapped her arms around both Caleb and Daniel, her cheek pressed against the space between Caleb’s shoulder blades.

“Family hug!” Lola announced. Caleb looked over his shoulder at Peyton, his green eyes twinkling with laughter as he gently patted Lola’s arm.

“Come here, Peyton!” Lola griped, truly sounding miffed. Peyton hurried to obey her mother, laughing a little at how – once again – her mother’s eccentric antics lifted the dark cloud that seemed to perpetually hang over Caleb’s head. Peyton winked up at Caleb as she held the three of them, unable to stop chuckling at how ridiculous this was.

“Lola, that better be your hand in my back pocket,” Daniel said a few seconds later.

Instantly the group jumped apart, Lola laughing her head off as they distanced themselves from one another, denying any claim to being the owner of the adventurous hand.

Peyton shook her head, laughing with her. “Mom, you’re crazy,” she chuckled, finding it hard to be embarrassed when she saw how badly her father was blushing. It took a lot to get the big man flustered and to be honest; it just lightened the mood even further.

Noting how her parents eyed one another, Peyton knew that she and Caleb needed to escape the house for an hour or so. “Take a walk with me?” Peyton asked him. Caleb nodded, his cheekbones flushed with color as they grabbed their coats and headed outdoors.

+ + +

Over the course of the next couple of days, Peyton tried to get used to the fact that she was Caleb’s girlfriend. It was hard to do, considering that besides the obvious ‘I’ve had a bad life and you’re making it better’ tangent, Peyton knew very little about Caleb in particular. Since Efraim had been the only other guy she had been in a relationship with, it was hard for her to stop comparing the two.

Whereas Efraim had been an open book, even having a Wikipedia profile that he updated personally on occasion, Caleb was a Japanese puzzle box. Each divulged piece of information that was coaxed out of him led to another and another until finally – maybe – a person could take a peek at the man inside. Caleb took time and patience. Peyton wasn’t always the most patient, and with Caleb she felt like they were moving at snail’s pace, but she cared about him too much to push him.

It scared her to think that their emotional and heated beginnings could taper off to nothing. It also bothered Peyton to know that the promises she had made to herself had been broken so easily – that she hadn’t even thought twice about her actions on the couch, or more importantly, that she hadn’t let herself think twice about her actions.

Caleb was making her usual rational sense of self so damn irrational and flighty that Peyton couldn’t help but wonder if she had more in common with her mother than she had originally believed.

Which brought Peyton to another thought: she still hadn’t told her parents that she was dating Caleb…even though they technically hadn’t been on a date yet.

Peyton’s thoughts were suspended when the scratch of chair legs across tile pulled her out of her worrying.

She was back at Side Street, at the usual time she always came in. Caleb had told her that Margaret had grown suspicious of her absence and had repeated the rumors around town that he was staying up at the Barn with the Gray family. How in the hell anyone had found out was beyond Peyton, but Hamish was notorious, as many small towns are, for finding out the barest scrap of information and spreading it like wildfire. Caleb didn’t seem embarrassed by being found out, but then again, if he was he had a way of hiding it.

So, to quell curiosities and to appease Margaret, Peyton had come back to the shop. She had expected to be questioned by the elderly boss but instead found herself staring up at the curly-haired blonde whom the last Peyton had seen had been at a distance, waving tearfully behind a screen door.

Chelsea lowered herself down into the chair, a coffee in one hand and a bear claw in another, both of which she set out on the table with purpose. Peyton could feel the Danish she had eaten for breakfast shift in her stomach.

“Well, I guess you know why I’m here,” Chelsea said in a French accent that threw Peyton completely off guard.

Peyton blinked and nodded. “Uh huh,” she replied intelligently, even though she had no idea what Chelsea was referring to. The girl seemed to notice this and smiled softly before she took a sip of coffee.

Peyton took a mental step back and looked over at the glass counter to see Caleb serving a small group of kids wearing blue and white colors denoting the nearby high school. Caleb looked decidedly normal, though he caught her eyes when as he brewed a latte.

“Wait,” Peyton began as her brain finally began to put the pieces together. “Are you here to see if I’m good enough for Caleb?”

Chelsea laughed brightly and shook her head, her thick blonde curls shaking wildly with the movement. “It took you long enough.”

“Sorry, I’m useless before noon,” Peyton admitted with a smile, relaxing a little. How many times had she done the same thing for her girlfriends? It was rite of passage, and for more reasons than one Peyton found it endearing that Chelsea, a complete stranger to her, had no qualms with stepping out of her comfort zone to give Caleb the thumbs up or down.

“So is Caleb, usually,” Chelsea replied, “but I guess being surrounded by coffee has its advantages.”

“So does making money,” Peyton chuckled, causing Chelsea to laugh brightly again.

“True,” Chelsea agreed. Then her smile faded and she eyed her fingerless-gloved hands that were wrapped rather tightly around her coffee. Clearly this was the part where Peyton admitted how much she knew, but surrounded by high school kids and a few nosy locals, Peyton didn’t even want to start down that road.

“Obviously you care about Caleb very much or else you wouldn’t be checking me out to see if I’m acceptable,” Peyton teased, wanting to keep the conversation lighthearted. The past month and a half had been nothing but walking on eggshells and it would be nice to have a light, easy conversation for once.

Chelsea lifted her head, staring at up at Peyton through a mass of curls that she pushed back behind her ears. “Actually the only reason I’m giving you the time of day is because Caleb is,” she replied, straightening up in her chair a little. “Caleb doesn’t date,” she said slowly, her eyebrows lifted.

Peyton nodded. “He mentioned that.”

Chelsea shook her head quickly, like to say Peyton wasn’t getting something. “It’s not because of his dad or the bullying or the scars,” she said quietly but quickly, like she was rushing to make her point. “Caleb could get any girl he wants, he’s hot.”

Peyton felt her chest tighten with instant jealousy, but knew that it was just her pettiness acting up. Chelsea was merely stating a fact and Peyton wasn’t one to disagree.

“Okay, but I’m still not following,” she said slowly. It had definitely been awhile since she had been associated with ‘teen speak’, and she had forgotten how fast they could talk, girls in particular.

“Look,” Chelsea said, placing both hands on the table. “Caleb is smart, like he was our valedictorian smart. And sure, he got called the Goth kid, but like the entire cheerleading squad tried to get in his pants up until graduation day because he is…you know…” Her eyebrows lifted again. Peyton instantly felt out of her element again but she nodded, understanding.

“I know,” she told Chelsea when the girl didn’t speak.

Chelsea nodded and continued. “He kind of had a reputation for being the most desirable underdog, that and he pissed off every teacher he ever came into contact with which of course in high school makes him practically godly, you know.”

Peyton narrowed her eyes a little. “Why did he piss off the teachers?”

“He wasn’t bad or anything!” Chelsea was quick to admonish. “He corrected the teachers all the time and you know how they hate that. He’s just smart. Like, freaky smart. Caleb basically lived at the school library and walked around with a bag full of books all the time. And he even speaks better French than I can! Or English, if I’m being honest…” She shook her head and got back on track. “He’s just really good at everything, even hockey when he tried. He was the fastest cross country runner in school history – he took us all the way to state!”

Peyton took a sip of coffee, using it as a way to smother her growing embarrassment.

She had spent nearly six weeks with Caleb and was just now hearing any of this. Granted, this could’ve been picked up from a yearbook or read in the local newspaper, but hearing it from Chelsea in a tone of voice that suggested that this should all be old news to her basically rubbed Peyton the wrong way.

“So what is the point you’re trying to make here?” Peyton asked, desperate to finish the conversation even though it was just starting.

“My point,” Chelsea said with comically accented gusto, “is that despite the clothes or the fact that he lived in Creek Hollow or his gloom-and-doom attitude, Caleb had his own all-girls fan club throughout high school and he never dated a single one of them. He even turned me down when I asked.” Peyton didn’t have time to feel embarrassed because Chelsea plunged forward. “So it kind of makes me wonder what he sees in you.”

Peyton blinked in surprise at how blunt this girl was. “Well, I’m not really sure,” she admitted, glancing over in Caleb’s direction to find that he was still busy making lattes and cappuccinos, unable to save her. “Did you ask him?”

Chelsea propped her chin on her palms and stared at her with big doe eyes that reminded Peyton of Japanese anime female characters, all wide and dewy with innocence. “He said because he saw himself in you,” she replied airily, as though the answer marveled her in some way. “That and something about you gave him pains for a world of…something. It’s a line from Shakespeare, I know that much.”

The words flowed out of Peyton’s mouth before she could stop it, “‘She gave me for my pains a world of sighs,’” she corrected. “It’s Othello.”

“Shakespeare,” Chelsea stated.

Peyton smiled wanly. “Yes, Shakespeare.”

“What’s it mean?”

“Ambiguous, really,” Peyton admitted. “Othello was describing Desdemona’s reactions to the tale of his life story at that part of the play. She fell in love with him because of his deeds and his adventures, and he in turn fell in love with her because of her reaction.”

“See, you should have been my English teacher. Mr. Boudreaux was just awful. It always took him hours to explain everything!” Chelsea griped, shaking her head of curls with a disdainful look on her face.

Peyton chuckled. It felt like it had been years since she last complained about her high school teachers. Clearly crappy teachers were commonplace in every generation. “So Caleb knows Shakespeare?”

“Yes! How romantic is that?! I told him he could totally be Edward Cullen.”

Peyton struggled to keep a straight face. “I can imagine he didn’t take that well.”

Chelsea’s face flushed bright pink and she erupted into a fit of giggles. “He was pissed!” Chelsea then gestured to her bear claw. “Do you mind if I eat this? You can tell me who you are and stuff while I’m chewing. I think its fair turnabout since you’re only dating my best friend and all.”

Peyton eyed Caleb one last time, but this time Chelsea caught her wandering gaze. “Oh no,” Chelsea laughed. “He’s not getting you out of this. You better start talking.”

“Oh boy,” Peyton breathed, laughing a little as she straightened herself up in her chair. “Well, what exactly do you want to know?”

“Everything!” Chelsea gushed. “The way Caleb keeps going starry-eyed when you get brought up in a conversation tells me you must be someone special. And I want to know what makes you special.” She tilted her head slightly. “Haven’t we gone over this already?”

Peyton laughed but internally felt like a weight had been dropped in her stomach.

This was turning out to be a long morning.

+ + +

Let me know what you think!! 

XO, Lily