When The Chips Are Down, I'll Be Around, With My Undying Death-Defying Love For You [Saaaaaaam]

ᔕtarbucks could make anyone feel better. Someone had told me that before. Dad, that was it.
He'd gone on dates with RJ to Starbucks. I could remember him coming home from them, barely, and having a massive smile on his face.
For a while, I'd thought that Starbucks was the key to making him smile. But when I met RJ, I realized she was the reason he smiled so much.
However, I wasn't with someone. I was alone, in Starbucks Coffee, thinking about what I saw, and how I wanted to kill James with my bare hands. Or maybe not with my bare hands. Most likely with some help from earth.
Why had he been with that other girl? Were they- No. But maybe they were. Maybe they were going out, and I was the one who was stupid and fell for his charm and all that stuff.
Nope.
Not thinking about things as serious as that.
I had a Latte, and I was going to enjoy it, without thinking about James. No, I wasn't even gonna think his name. He would be called He from now on.
I had on black skinny jeans, with a white jumper/sweatshirt with a print of a heart and "love" on it. My hair was hanging loose, covering my silver hoop earrings. I had on a silver love heart necklace and a silver bracelet. My black bag was on the only chair beside me, making sure that no one would sit at this table. I also had on my usual black converse, and I was at this very minute, kicking the chairs leg, trying to calm myself down.
A small group of people were watching me, giving me looks I'd learned to deal with, and I smiled absently over at them, taking a deep sip of my drink.
Could I get away with murder? Murder that was highly worth doing? Maybe Chiron would let me off..
Ugh. If only.
Hm, maybe an Ares kid would do it for me...
Now there's a thought.

ᔕipping my Latte, I took out my phone, tapping in a reply to Tink.
Doing good. U?
.....
Same. Shoppin.
.....
Gothic still?
.....
Ain't Gothic. Punk.
.....
I shook my head, typing in a small little reply. "K. Tell every1 I said hi.", and putting the phone back in my bag, closing the top.
So what if monsters could sense Half-Bloods that used phones. At least I had a phone so I could call help.
Looking around, I nearly missed him. Nearly, but not quite.
'Oh crap,' I muttered, instantly moving downwards in my seat, thinking that if I could just duck enough...
Pulling the newspaper from the table beside me, I propped it open, hiding behind it, trying to not be seen. Why was he here? In this Starbucks? Couldn't he get his freaking caffeine fix somewhere else? Preferably in Asia, or some other remote place?
Hell, if he wanted to go to Asia for Coffee, I'd give him the fare! One way only! Hopefully he'd go into a forest, get eaten by Cannibals, and nothing would ever be heard from James again.
It was at that exact moment when I was happily thinking about him being eaten by jungle people, that my phone started to jingle, We R Who We R by Ke$ha.
Fumbling, I moved forwards, trying to reach the bag, to pull it over so I could turn off the phone, and whoever the hell was ringing me.
However, the chair got knocked by my foot, wobbling before falling on its side, and the bag went skidding across the floor.
Wow. I can be so stealthy when I wanna be.

ᙅrap, Crap, Crap, Crap, Crap, Crap...
If my bag had still been on the stupid freaking chair I would have told him I was waiting for someone. But oh crap.
Stupid bag. As it had slid across the floor, I'd contemplated running for it. Picking up the coffee, and running from the Starbucks.
However, my money, my credit cards, my ID, my phone... everything was in the stupid, ugly bag. I hadn't even be able to speak up when he'd asked who owned the bag.
Moving quick, I pulled the bag onto my lap rooting through it until I found my phone, clicking the side button.
The message popped up almost instantly. "You Have One Missed Call From Lewis." Oh crap. Not only was I stuck between a full Starbucks and the person I least wanted to see, I had missed a call from my Brother, who was away with the Marines.
Holding up the phone, I listened to the Voice Mail.
"Hey Skye! Doing good here. Probably going to be home in about a month, hope I can see you then. Tell everyone I said hi!".
'I'm sure you've been looking for me everywhere,' I muttered, putting the phone back in the bag, shutting it and putting it at my feet, so as if I could run, I would.
Then I clenched my jaw, keeping my head ducked, my hair covering my eyes.
My eyes which had filled with tears.
Quickly, I took some deep breathes, making sure I wouldn't burst into tears before I looked at him.
'A girl huh? And here I thought you were one of the good guys.'
Picking up my Latte, I took a sip, before looking around.
Looking anywhere but at him.

ᙅrap didn't cover what was happening now.
'You know! The good guy who sticks around! The good guy who stays-' I cut myself off, looking down again, avoiding anymore eye contact.
People were going around their business, but a few girls in a corner were watching, snickering. Then one of them, who even I had to admit was pretty, looked right at me, leaned over and whispered something to one of the others.
'χύνω,' I muttered, watching as she upturned her coffee to take a drink, and it spilled down her top without cause.
She screamed a little, standing abruptly, running to the bathroom. I didn't feel any remorse for what I did.
I wasn't in the mood to be laughed at.
'Hard? Or do you just not want to explain?' I said, turning around completely in my seat, tears replaced with anger.
I had secrets too. A name I wasn't allowed to use. A family mystery all I wanted to do was solve.
'You know, I love how you can be so honest. Honesty is the best policy and all that. What I don't get is why you had to lie.'
Then I took a sip of my own coffee, trying to stop myself snapping, trying to stop the urge I had to jump up and slap him.

Everything was just going from bad, to really bad, to worse.
'I don't accept that James. Everyone has good, and everyone has bad. Its what you choose to act on... There's this Irish Writer and Poet. His name is, or at least was, Oscar Wilde. My Dad would read extracts from things he's wrote to me and my sisters, even my brother..' I trailed off for a second, before continuing, 'He once told us a quote that Mr.Wilde said. "It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious." I think its true.'
Maybe I was saying too much. Maybe. But people couldn't be described by a stereotype. He might be annoying me right now, but I also didn't believe I truly hated him.
'Explanations are hard, but you shouldn't let the sun set on a problem,' I murmured, connecting the explanation he didn't want to give to a problem.
Then I let myself fall into silence, listening to things that I had never wanted to hear, and never wanted to believe.
I couldn't believe them. I mean, I couldn't. Not because I wanted to believe lies. But because if I let myself believe it, then I was going to snap, I was going to let myself fall into despair.
Looking into my cup, I noticed there was no more latte in it. So basically, I couldn't even pour that on his head.
Would I even have been able too? Now I felt like a bucket of cold water had been dunked on me, like I'd been left out in the rain.
'Ok...' I said, not trusting myself to say anything else.

Slowly, I looked up. Not even shocked by the sight of his claws.
'Well, you might be tedious now, but you were charming,' I murmured, before looking around at people.
I would have, under normal circumstances, made a joke. I would have said that Starbucks was probably gonna sue us.
But these weren't normal circumstances.
'Yell at you?' I asked, slightly mystified.
Was this what shock was? A total shut down? No. Shock was when you weren't feeling anything, you had completely shut down.
Right now I could feel my heart breaking, and my mind was far from shut down.
More likely I couldn't understand why he would want me to yell at him.
'Would I prefer this?' I practically screamed, before stopping. Before letting the sob building up in my throat out.
'Is there a problem James? Unscathed you said. Unscathed implies danger, problems. Do you owe money? I have money. Do you need anything? I can help. I wouldn't refuse to help you, ever,' I whispered, looking him the eye again.

The Starbucks was nearly empty now. People had left, the staff looked scared but didn't want to leave without actually shutting up.
'I'd help you if all you did was ask,' I said softly, looking at him.
Truth was, I could deal with anything. I could deal with monsters, I could deal with pain. Fear wasn't something that applied to me.
But I didn't want to lose someone. That was one thing that filled me with dread.
Then I felt my eyes widen, and I sighed.
'Well I knew you were older, but I wasn't really expecting that,' I said.
Okay. That was what I would call on a good day, very, very weird.
But not abnormal.
And I couldn't think of anything else to say. I couldn't make myself say anything kind, or anything mean. Even though it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would.
'The acts that were committed in the past don't reflect on the person you are in the present,' I felt my lips move, but no sound came out.
My voice had decided to go on strike. Thanks voice.
Then I stood.
Things could be sorted out. But when someone didn't want to, whens someone refused to...
I started on my way to the door, before turning.
'I don't care about your past James. What I care about is the future, and of the present.'