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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Writing · #1817146
On old flames and their ridiculous cups of coffee...
Stewart grumbled as he tried and failed to push his glasses back up his nose for the tenth time. It would be a much easier task if he thought he could accomplish it without spilling a drop of Ms. Goodnight's coffee. Heaven forbid he should do that. He bit his lip and carried on. After all, he wouldn't have to put up with this for much longer. No, his time would come. It had come. She just didn't know it yet. Actually no one did... except for him. Him and the boss... but then again that was all that really mattered. All that mattered was that the boss thought she didn't have what it took to get the job done and that he had been there to suggest himself as her replacement.

Finally, he came to his desk and finally set down the tower of files and Ms. Goodnight's coffee. With his hands now free of her accursed venti non-fat soybean french vanilla cream frappacino with a double shot of espresso, he could finally adjust his glasses. Once they were back in their proper place, he looked through the window into Ms. Goodnight's office and frowned. She was on the phone, probably with the boss. Knowing them, they were talking about some other very secret and very illegal operation. He knew what the company was doing, but he didn't care. He'd just followed Ms. Goodnight as was his norm. He'd been looking for his chance to take her down since high school. If he was going to miss the chance now just because of some unscrupulous business here and there, then his name wasn't Stewart Plinkman.

After he'd watched her for a few minutes, he got an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. There was a time he never would've considered doing what he was doing... in the grand scheme of things that time wasn't even that long ago. Before he knew it, he found himself sitting at his desk quite lost in reverie...

He was fourteen again and she was the most beautiful girl in pre-ap economics. She might have been the only girl, but to him she was a sight to behold. That hair, those clothes... ah, he had been in love.

"Stewart!"

"Yes, November?"

"Carry my books! And don't call me November!"

"Yes No- I mean m'am"

"Don't call me m'am!"

"Yes sir!"

She snarled. Even her snarl was cute. At least it had been to him. At one time, she'd even promised to go to the homecoming dance with him... he could still remember the night itself. On that fateful night he sat in his rented powder blue tuxedo and waited for hours on end. The call had come at a quarter til midnight. I had to have my abacus rotated she'd told him. The crush had ended there. The rivalry, on the other end, had only just begun. She was always one step ahead... always with one more infuriating A on her transcript.

Stewart snapped out of it when he heard someone at his desk. He was back at his desk in the only cheap, itchy suit his minimum wage job could afford. He couldn't even recall how many years away his mind had been. The thousands of days that had passed between junior high and graduate school had passed in the amount of time it had taken Ms. Goodnight to finish her phone call and walk to his desk. She was standing right there, drinking her coffee. Stewart felt himself soften... was his little deal with the boss really worth it? He'd been through years with November... could he really do what he was planning? Then for a moment, he couldn't breathe. It wasn't because he was overcome by emotion, as a matter of fact it was nothing to do with emotion at all. The culprit was a slew of lukewarm coffee now dripping down his face.

"This isn't even warm... God, you have always been incompetent. Even a monkey could bring me hot coffee, you bumbling idiot!" With that she stormed off, crushing the now empty cup in her hand and tossing it over her shoulder at him without a second glance.

Then again... maybe the plan wasn't such a bad idea. He waited until she was out of the office before he grinned.

"Just you wait November Goodnight! You will rue the day you ever crossed Stewart Plinkman!"
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