So...this is another one of my crack story ideas. I got it after watching a Tangled fan video to the song "Mine" by Taylor Swift. It was actually really well done, even if (like me) you're not really Taylor Swift fan. But anyways...I estimate this story will be about five chapters. It was originally intended to be a one-shot, but it's already past ten thousand words, which I considered too long to be a one-shot. So it's ended up a multi-shot. Anywhozzles...enjoy. Please review. I love reviews.
The line at the coffee shop was especially long that morning, something that irked to no end the petite blonde about halfway up the line. If things didn't hurry up soon, she wasn't going to make it to school on time– luckily she didn't have to go to school at the normal 7:45 start time today. However, had she anticipated the line being this bad, she might not have gotten up so late.
Rapunzel blew a stray bang out of her face, annoyed. The little old lady at the front of the line couldn't seem to make up her mind; even the barista seemed to be getting impatient. Finally the woman seemed to decide, and the line moved forward with an audible sigh of relief from everyone. Rapunzel toyed with her outrageously long blonde hair, wondering– as her friends often did– why she kept it as long as it was. Even woven into a thick braid, it still hit just above her knees, and when it was unbound, it almost touched the floor. But she'd never been able to bring herself to cut it more than just trimming the split ends– the golden locks, interspersed with chocolate brown, were just too beautiful.
A paper slipped out of her bulging school bag and fluttered to the floor. She leaned over and down a little to pick it up. Unfortunately, that placed her right in the path of a customer rushing out of the shop in a considerable hurry. As soon as Rapunzel was upright again, she was almost knocked back to the ground by a tall man racing for the door; though she managed to stay on her feet, his cup of coffee cracked open and splashed all over her shirt.
She looked down in dismay at her soaked and probably stained shirt. Fortunately, none of the coffee had gotten onto the things in her bag. People around her backed away a little as she attempted to wring out her shirt.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," the offender apologized.
"No, it's fine," she said, still vainly trying to rid her clothes of the coffee. "It didn't get on my stuff, or anything…"
He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, then pulled a pen and slip of paper from his jacket pocket, scribbled something on the paper, then handed it and his jacket to Rapunzel.
"Here, take this," he offered. "I'll pay to have your clothes cleaned." With that, he ran out of the coffee shop.
Rapunzel stared after him, then looked down at the paper. On it was written a phone number, and below that, "ask for Flynn." Deciding that there wasn't much more that she could do, she shrugged on the jacket– still a little warm, she noted– and moved up a place in line.
Rapunzel dropped her head in her hand as she drummed her fingers on the table at which she was sitting. Alison was supposed to meet her here twenty minutes ago, but so far she'd had no word from the girl. Then again, that was pretty typical– the slightly ditzy redhead had a tendency to forget to tell people when her plans changed.
She sat at the pair's favorite diner, the Snuggly Duckling. She wasn't sure how the name had gotten started– she was pretty sure it had been a joke years before– but it had stuck, and the diner had been called that ever since. She wasn't even really sure of its original name. Regardless, the food was good, and it was a fun, if somewhat loud, place.
While she waited for her friend, her mind kept drifting back to her mishap in the coffee shop earlier in the week. Luckily she'd been able to get all of the stain out– a good thing, considering it was one of her favorite shirts– but she still had to return the man's jacket. While she had the phone number, she'd been a little nervous about calling it, though she couldn't explain why. So she'd been carrying the jacket in her bag for the last few days, although she hadn't yet gotten a chance to run by the coffee shop and find him.
"Can I get anything for you?" an approaching waiter asked.
Rapunzel sighed. "Yeah, I was waiting for a friend, but I don't think she's coming." She looked up at the waiter and recognized him with a shock.
"You're the guy!" she exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow. "I am?"
"The guy from the coffee shop the other day," she explained. "Remember, you spilled your coffee on me?"
He immediately looked mortified. "I'm really sorry about that, I was late for class. I didn't ruin your shirt, did I?"
"Oh, no, it was a quick fix, I cleaned it when I got home," she assured him, waving a hand. Remembering his jacket, she reached into her bag, pulled it out, and handed it to him. "Here, I kept meaning to give this back to you. Thanks."
"It was the least I could do," he said, taking back the jacket. "So, did you want to order?"
A grumble from her stomach was all the answer that was needed. She smiled sheepishly. "Um, yes."
After seeing her two more times in one week, Flynn asked his coworker, Addie, if the blonde-haired girl at Table 6 came often.
"Her?" Addie asked, glancing over. "Oh, yeah, she's here most afternoons on the weekdays. She comes every Saturday morning too. Nice girl. Long hair."
Flynn couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed her before now. Granted, with the exception of the time when she returned his jacket, she'd always been with one girl or another, but still. To be honest, he still felt a little guilty about bumping into her at the coffee shop the previous week, but since there didn't seem to be any damage done, he didn't worry about it too much.
The next Saturday he finally got tired of waiting for her table to be in his round, and asked Addie to switch him tables. At first she looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a look that said "No" about as many ways as you could say it, but then she spotted the girl. "Ah," she said knowingly with a wicked grin. "Sure, Flynn, I'd be happy too. But you'll owe me." He didn't like how she said that, but he was pretty sure that Addie couldn't come up with anything too bad. Then again, this was Addie. She had a very vivid imagination and less moral qualms than was normal about the legality of an act. But, he mused, it was worth it. He didn't know why, but this girl intrigued him.
Today she was by herself again. Her very, very long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, though that didn't seem to doing much to keep it out of her face or what she was working on. She was bent over a thick notebook, her pencil moving across the page gracefully. She seemed to be concentrating entirely on her work– she was so engrossed, in fact, that she didn't notice when he walked up to her table.
He cleared his throat. "So, can I get you anything?" he asked.
She jumped a little and looked up hurriedly. "Oh, yes, sorry, I was a little spaced out there," she said, flipping her notebook closed with the pencil marking the page. It was only when she looked back up at him that she seemed to notice who he was. "It's you again!"
"Uh, yes. I do work here."
"I gathered," she said dryly. "I'll just have strawberry pancakes and apple juice."
He wrote down her order, but when he tried to continue the conversation further, the words somehow wouldn't come. Instead, he just walked back to the kitchen, mentally kicking himself as he ran his fingers through his floppy brown hair. He'd never had this much trouble with a girl before– in fact, he'd never really had any trouble with a girl before– so why was she so different? He didn't even know her name, for goodness' sake.
He decided to start with that when he brought out her pancakes. She was back to drawing again, but she noticed when he came over, and quickly set her notebook to the side to make room for her plate.
"So you know my name," he began, and internally cringed at how lame he sounded, "but I don't even know yours."
She looked confused. "I don't– oh, the card, right," she said. The fact that she hadn't remembered his name– or that he'd even given it to her– dealt a slight bruise to his ego, but, then again, Teresa, one of his two roommates, always said that his ego was too swelled anyways, so there you go. He tried to look nonchalant, though his level of success was probably debatable.
"Oh, right. My name's Rapunzel."
It was an odd name, but then again, Flynn wasn't all that common either. "So you're an artist, I gather?"
"Uh, yeah, I've been drawing for years, but I paint a lot more these days. And no offense, but I'm really hungry." She gave him a somewhat apologetic smile.
"Oh, yeah, right, sorry." He nodded with a slightly tight smile and went back to the kitchen. Once he was safely out of her field of vision, he frowned and sat down on a stool with a thump, his head propped up on one hand.
"Uh oh," Addie teased as she entered the kitchen as well. "I've seen that look. Does a particular lady at Table 6 have the Great Flynn in a funk?"
"Ha, ha," he said sarcastically. "Way to kick a guy when he's down."
"Oh, you know me," she said mock-sweetly. "Queen of sensitivity." She gave Flynn a pat on the shoulder and gathered her order before exiting the kitchen again, still smirking. He sneered at her, but once she had left, he returned to his former, pensive position.
Rapunzel walked into the Snuggly Duckling on Saturday morning as usual. The hostess, a petite woman named Miranda, smiled upon seeing her. "Good morning, dear," she greeted the girl. "Your usual table?"
"If it's not taken," Rapunzel added.
"It'll always be open for you, dear," Miranda told her. "You're one of our best customers."
Rapunzel smiled warmly, thanked Miranda, and sat down, opening her sketchbook. She was working on a project for her Drawing & Painting class at school, and for once she liked the assignment.
A familiar figure came up to her table, and she looked up and smiled. "Hi, Flynn," she said.
"Hey," he replied, smiling as well. "So what'll it be?"
"Oh, I think I'll go with French toast today. And chocolate milk."
"Sounds good." He wrote down her order and went back to the kitchen; she, in turn, went back to her work.
When Flynn brought back her food, Rapunzel was, once again, so absorbed in her work that she didn't notice him at first, and looked up in unconscious surprise as her plate clinked against the table as he set it down.
"You seem really into your work," he commented. "What are you drawing?"
"Oh, it's for school," she said. "We have to draw something relating to motion." She pushed her sketchbook over to give him a look.
He tilted his head a little to look at it in the proper angle. It was of a dancer leaping through the air. He was impressed at the intricate detail that she'd devoted to it.
"It's really good," he told her. She blushed a little. "You really think so?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, and the smile he gave her was real. He'd learned a while ago that the moves he normally used when trying to catch a girl had absolutely no effect on Rapunzel– in fact, they often worked opposite of his intention, and turned her off. So when it came to Rapunzel, he ditched his usual pick-up lines (which, as almost all pick-up lines are, were terrible) and his patented "smolder" and went for sincere instead. However, he was beginning to get a little impatient. He didn't normally wait this long to ask a girl out, and he had decided to not wait any longer.
"Hey, Rapunzel?" he asked. She looked up from pouring syrup on her French toast.
"Are…are you doing anything later this week?"
The smile that she gave him dismayed him, because it was one he'd seen a few– only a few– times before. It was the kind of smile a girl gave a guy when she was turning him down.
"Flynn, you're a nice guy, and I like talking with you, but I just don't feel like I know you well enough," she said somewhat apologetically. He was about to say something, but she kept going. "And even if I did, I'm just not looking for a relationship right now. Thanks for the offer, but I'd rather we just kept things the way they are between us."
He tried hard to keep the disappointment from his face, though his level of success was probably doubtful. There was a silver lining, though, however thin it might be: at least it wasn't just him.
And...there's the first part done. I'm already up to Part Four, but I didn't post until now because I was debating with myself on whether to split it up or keep it as one chapter. Then I hit ten thousands words and realized that I was going to have to split it up. So there you go.
I'm actually really enjoying this story. And one I get past my writer's block, I'll enjoy it even more. Because right now it's kind of taunting me. Grr. D:
Again, reviews are love. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review. And if you feel like it, read some of my other stuff too. I promise to keep the shameless advertising at a minimum.