Lana feels

Black hair. Slate-blue eyes. Little goatee-type beard, but not pointed. Really just chin fuzz grown about an inch. Good skin. Pierced. Eyebrows, lip, tongue, left ear. Or is that right ear? I'm not so good at left and right, but anyhow, one ear, down at the bottom and up at the top, chain between them. Spike on the top and gothic cross at the botom. Wears a pentagram. Tall, maybe 5'10, 5'11. Goth, even in a Starbucks smock. Works at Starbucks. Kinda funny looking, but cute. Makes a really good menthe mocha, which is always a valuable quality in a person. He's been there both times I've gone into Starbucks this break, and both times he's smiled at me. Or, more acurately, he smiles at the general region of my pentagram. Rani pointed this out the first time, in tones of great incredulity. I think the shock to her was that somebody would dare smile at me while I was with her. Someone is someday going to have to break it to this girl that we are not together. We never have been. We never will be. That, or I may just continue trying my best to avoid her. However, a couple days ago, I failed in that attempt and was tricked into spending the day with her. We eventually went out for dinner, then I got some coffee at said Starbucks. He smiled at me when he gave me my coffee, and said something about people who drink mint coffee being a rare breed. So, being always open to cute goths, I smiled back, and we left. She threw a minor fit outside - "Did that guy smile at you?" "Maybe... Does it matter?" Cue Rani scowling.

Then today, I walk back in there to get Chris Labonte, my crazy over-caffinated Advanced Biology teacher, a Christmas present in the form of some espresso. There he is, sweeping the floor, and as I walk in he looks up. Smiles, asks if I'm back for more mint coffee. Okay, so really, no, I wasn't. But I was impressed, so I nodded and he leaned his broom against the wall and headed for the coffee station. The woman who owns the place, and who I know a little bit from being in and out of there all summer, smirks but doesn't say anything, and I go over to the shelf where there are bags. Of course, the espresso roast is just a very little bit above where I can reach without my shirt coming up to my bra, so I frown at it for a little bit, hoping I suppose that if I glared hard enough it would get uncomfortable and move, causing it to fall off the shelf. Then I feel a warm body behind me and an arm reaches above my head and hands it down to me, again with the smiling in the general direction of my pentagram. There was a moment of fun awkwardness as I oh-so-accidentally turned around with him still standing there, made a consterned noise, and we retired to the cash register. He wrote his number on the reciept, and probably his name, but I shook my head and put it in the trash thing by the register. Smiled sweetly, waited for his eyes to rise and join mine, and said "I'm going back to school tomorrow, but thanks." And, with a swish of the skirt I was suddenly glad to be wearing, I walked out, coffee and bag of ground espresso in hand. Tomorrow I go home. I'm feeling much better.