Monday.

Monday's suck.

I don't know how many Monday's have passed since the start of the semester, but I swear every single one feels longer than the last.

I roll over in my bed, my window shining with the tiniest bit of dawn, making my sheer curtains a royal blue.

I look over to my alarm clock and read the bright pink numbers.

4:32 am.

Fuck me.

I groan and pull my covers off my legs and go to grab my toiletry bag, still half asleep.

The residence halls at NYU are nice, especially for the amount of money they are a year. There's a queen size bed, closet, counter space, free wooden desk with a chair, and some room space.

Unfortunately, no personal bathroom.

So, every morning, I brush my teeth and shower in the women's bathrooms down the hall. I'm lucky enough it's on my floor so I don't have to use the elevator every morning.

That must really suck.

The sound of water running and girls talking fill my ears as I walk in. There are already plenty of girls in here.

Chloe likes to sleep in since her first class isn't until 9:30 so the bathrooms are normally empty when she has the chance to use them.

Unlike me who barley sleeps and gets up at the crack of fucking dawn. Clearly I'm not the only one, because there are at least 20 girls that use these restrooms every morning before 5 o'clock.

I brush my teeth, put up my hair, and walk into an unvacated shower before stripping my clothes and hanging them on the rack outside the curtain.

Girls come and go as I shower and I overhear words of gossip. This guy screwed her, this girl did this, that girl who screwed him got revenge on her ex and had a rebound.

Blah blah blah.

I dry off and get dressed in leggings and a forest green, long sleeved shirt.

Then I do my makeup because Chloe insists that mascara is the key to a natural face.

I leave my hair as is and decide to make myself a cup of coffee.

I open my curtains once I'm back to my dorm, the sun now shining somewhat over the city. I've always wanted to watch the sunrise on top of one of these tall ass building but I haven't found the time, or the building for that matter, to do it.

I walk over to the counter, open some of the cabinets and find have no coffee.

Son of a bitch.

I sit there for 5 minutes just contemplating if I should go out and buy myself coffee, but I haven't been alone to get coffee without Chloe since I've moved here.

She'd actually be proud I made my way around without her.

Fuck it.

I grab my bag and put on my coat before heading out the door.

-----------------------

New York's crisp and fresh air wisps past me as I make my way Café Lafayette.

Their coffee is so good. Chloe took me there pretty much every morning in August.

I decided to walk. My mother always got on my ass because I never did sports. I was always an artistic person over a sporty one.

I liked music and art. Not kicking balls in mud or landing my boobs on a gym floor to hit the ball. Sports aren't easy and I could never do them.

I would workout in sections over the course of high school. Sometimes I was busy, sometimes I wasn't.

But even then, it would never hold her back from making a comment or two about my weight on the holidays.

The smell of rich coffee fills my nose when I walk into the café. People are all sitting, some working on laptops, and others talking on the phone or with friends.

I get in line behind someone, already knowing what I want.

"Excuse me, I haven't been here before, do you know what good coffee they have here?" A male voice whispers into my ear, surprising me so much I physically jump.

I turn around, completely shocked, until I am met with the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever fucking seen.

I take a second to pull myself together, "Uh, no, this is my first time here."

He smiles at me, "Now I have to pick something that I probably won't like."

I nod my head, taking a small second to look at his face.

His jawline is soft and becomes sharper as it meets his cheekbone. His brown hair is the color of dark coffee and is styled to look perfectly natural. I'm not even sure this dude actually styled it but it looks satisfying to touch.

I really just said this guy's hair looks like coffee. And called it satisfying.

His pink lips shape into a hear at his cupid's bow and his nose..

How the fuck does his nose look nice?

He notices me staring at him and smirks at me, his eyes looking my face up and down, "see something you like?"

Great. He knows he's hot.

I turn around and don't reply.

"Next, please," the barista with a strong Brooklyn accent says.

"Hi, can I get a café Americano, please? Hot?"

"Of course," she taps on the register pad, "That'll be $4.45, is that all?"

"Yes, thank you," I reply, handing her my card.

She swipes my card twice before handing it back to me, "I'm sorry, hun your payment isn't going through."

What?

"What do you mean?" I shake my head.

"Your card declined the payment," she sounds annoyed.

Are you kidding me right now?

"I have cash, hold on."

I dig through my bag and pull out my lavender wallet and find I have no cash on me.

Chloe.

I gave up my cash to pay my part of the tip for brunch the other day.

Shit.

"Excuse me," the guy from earlier says behind me. His hands land on my hips to move me out of the line and take my place.

"I'll pay for hers. Can I get an iced almond blondie, please?" He says, handing over his metallic gray card.

I stand there with my wallet still in my hands feelings like somewhat of a dumbass.

"Your name, please?" The barista asks, handing him back his card.

"Carter."

He walks over to me, placing his hands in his jeans.

"Thank you," I say. He shakes his head, "it's nothing, don't worry about it."

He walks over to the counter where the coffee's are served. I decide to follow him.

My coffee is going to be out too so...

"You heard my name, I'd like to hear yours," he turns to me and his blue eyes look into mine.

"Mandy."

His eyebrows shoot up, "I haven't heard Mandy in a while."

"What's wrong with it?" I ask. Carter loves to speak his mind, doesn't he?

He seems surprised by my defensive response, "I never said anything was wrong with it. I think that name is cool."

I roll my eyes.

"What?" He asks and I keep my face towards the barista's in attempt to not look at his face.

"Nothing," I reply.

I can still feel his eyes on me, practically burning through me. My skin becomes heated.

It's the coat. The coat. The coat.

"Is Mandy short for Amanda?" he asks. I turn to him.

"Yes, does Carter stand for anything?" I ask.

I don't know why I'm actually talking to him, but he did pay for my coffee so being polite seems like the decent thing to do.

"Nope. Just Carter."

His jaw flexes as he turns his head to the side.

"I hope I didn't scare you, you seemed a bit taken aback when you heard my question," his voice has a hint of a laugh as he talks, almost as if he's teasing me.

"You didn't," I lie, "I'm just not used to stranger's whispering in my ear."

"I apologize, I should've greeted myself properly before asking," he teases again, a smile forming on his perfect lips.

"If your going to apologize, you could be more sincere," I say, my eyes shrinking to slits.

"Who bought your coffee again?" he asks, placing his hand on his chest.

I roll my eyes. I feel his stare on me yet again.

"Carter?" A male barista slides over the two coffees.

Carter's raises his hand out of his pocket, giving a little wave and hands me my coffee.

"It was nice to meet you, Mandy?" He says as a smirk forms on his lips, emphasizing my name as if he was repeating it in his head.

"Yup," I say, as he grabs his own and begins to walk away.

I take a sip of my warm coffee as I walk out the café.

I set my coffee down to pull out my phone from my bag when my eyes land on 'CARTER' written in cursive on the top of my cup.

Carter.

A name for a gentleman, who also seems to be just as much of a smartass as I am.

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