Zoey scrutinized herself up and down at the mirror and sighed, feeling unsure.
"I look...okay. Right, Albus?"
She asked the golden retriever that was lazily lying on her bed. He barked in reply.
"I'll take that as a yes."
She said tugging on her StarWars shirt and brushing her light washed jeans.
She thought she looked like a complete nerd, but she didn't really care since they were only going to an amusement park.
Walking away from the mirror and plopping down next to her dog, she smiled. "Can you believe it, Albus? My first date! I'm so fucking nervous. Like...what if I puke all over him on the roller coaster? Or...what if I fall off the ferris wheel and fall into my tragic death?"
Zoey sighed. "Ugh, I'm over thinking."
Sitting up, she looked down at her watch.
4:30p.m
He should be there any minute.
Lying down on her bed once more, she ran over the things that has happened lately.
She can't believe this was actually happening.
After all, everything happened so fast.
Suddenly, there was a faint sound of music coming from outside.
Curious, she walked over to her window and saw Macro.
Standing on her front lawn.
Holding a boombox.
Singing.
"WIIIISE MEN SAY; ONLY FOOOOLS RUSH IN. BUT I CAN'T HELP, FALLING IN LOOOOVE WITH YOU! SHAAAALL I STAY? WOULD IT BE A SIN? FO-"
"SO, APPARENTLY...YOU'RE A CROSSBREED OF JOHN CUSAK AND ELVIS PRESLEY?" Zoey shouted over the music.
Macro laughed as he switched it off. "Isn't this the part where you start screaming, 'O Macro, Macro! Wherefore art thou, Macro?"
"So you're Elvis Presley, John Cusak and Shakespeare, all in one?"
"Uh-huh!" He grinned.
He thought her hair was a mess. Her clothes were casual. But that's exactly what he liked about her.
Her simplicity.
"Ehem." A throat cleared.
Macro's eyes shifted from Zoey to a man at the front door.
He looked like someone in his late forties.
Macro's confidence suddenly shattered, and was replaced by nervousness.
Placing the boombox down, he, picked up the roses that were lying on the grass and approached the man on the door step.
He had a blank expression.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Artsbu-"
"That's sir Arthur to you." He glared.
Macro felt like he wanted to pee.
"O-of course, sir Arthur."
Silence.
"Get in." The man spat.
So he did.
They sat down on the couch.
But Macro didn't want to look, or even feel too comfortable.
YOU ARE READING
The Starbucks Hotline
Short Story❝Hello, this is the Starb-❞ ❝HEEELP ME!! PLEASE! THERE'S A MURDERER IN MY HOUSE!❞ ❝OH SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!! WHAT DO I DO?! THIS IS STARBUCKS, NOT FREAKING 911. WAIT, HOLD ON. TRY TO KEEP YOURSELF ALIVE, I'LL CALL 911!! STAY CALM. IT'S GOING TO BE O- ❞...
