Getting upset over trivial matters

Emma's eyes were glued on the two figures not so far away from her, they were smiling together and laughing happily. Each slow step they took was torturous, every passing second caused more and more weight to pile up in Emma's heart.

Emma clutched the cup in her hands tighter and tighter. Her grip was so tight that in the back of her mind she was worried it might shatter, but the thought was overshadowed by the pain of her heart feeling like it had been stabbed repeatedly.

Realisation after realisation hit Emma, only adding to the pain she felt. She remembered how Mr Thomas had dashed off during lunch, not even sparing her a glance. She recalled him throwing her lovingly prepared lunch tossed away without a second thought. She even remembered her mother asking for some advice on an outfit to wear for today, Emma had asked what the occasion was but the only response she received was her mother changing the subject and turning her face away bashfully.

Emma clenched her teeth and lowered the cup from her mouth slowly. She was still watching them, so she saw when Mr Thomas reached out and took her mothers hand, Emma slammed the cup onto the table and let it go before resting her elbows on the table and burying her face in her hands.

The sound of her slamming the cup on the table resounded throughout the cafe, the silence was deafening, but Emma didn't care. She sighed deeply and bit her tongue, she wouldn't cry. She absolutely wouldn't cry.

"Goddamit…" she muttered to herself, her words further muffled by her hands. "I said I wouldn't fucking cry."

Her eyes moistened and she pinched her cheeks and tilted her head backwards to stop the tears from falling, her brows were furrowed and her expression was dark.

"It's okay, it's okay." She mumbled to herself, "It's not a big deal, so what. They went out for dinner and he threw the lunch I prepared for him away…" she shook her head and clenched her hand into a fist, "No, no, my cooking was just bad. It's not his fault, he hasn't done anything wrong."

She took in and let out a deep breath, "But then why do I feel like this, it's just…" she lowered one of her hands and placed it above her heart, "It's painful… why's it so damn painful?" She had expected this, no she knew this would happen. So why was her heart breaking like this, why did she feel so empty all of a sudden.

She continued on like this for a couple of minutes before slapping both of her cheeks with her palms and attempting to calm her heart.

"Why so blue?" A cheerful voice called out from behind her.

Emma raised her head from her hands and looked at the figure, her face still with a saddened expression and her eyes slightly red from the held back tears. She realised who it was and tried to hide her emotions, she put on a smile and lowered her gaze.

"What do you mean? I'm fine! I was just trying to focus, you know… it's stressful being a freshman, I just needed to clear my head you know…"

"Hmm, I guess you're right. Why don't you let me slap you instead then?" She said with a smile.

"Okay, wait… huh, what? No, no, no, what?" She asked in utter confusion.

"Well you want to focus, right? And I'm pretty sure my slaps will wake you right up! And you'll be fine, I'll hold back slightly." She said, still with a smile on her face, but this time one of her hands was raised and the other was on the table. She had bent over and her face only a few inches away from Emma's.

Emma was about to decline fiercely before suddenly recalling the scene she said earlier, "…Just do it." She muttered, a defeated look on her face, venom laced into her sweet voice.

The sound of a crisp slap resounded through the cafe, it was then followed by another straight after.

"Hey! It hurts…?" Emma said, more as a question than a statement.

Despite the loud noise, Emma wasn't in any real pain, Emma even had to admit that she was right it really had cleared her head. She looked up at the woman in front of her with a sad smile gracing her pretty face.

"Thanks, Chris."

"No need to thank me, I've been wanting to slap someone recently anyways. The last time was when I found my ex-boyfriend cheating on me. Like can you believe it? He the nerve of that bastard. He did it in my apartment even though he has his own place." Chris was ranting and she seemed to get angrier the more she talked. She then stopped and let out a breath, "Well anyway, you okay?"

Emma opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself, eyebrows furrowing as she looked at the ground.

"Well…?" Chris probed her for an answer.

"Do you think my cookings any good?" Emma asked her as she lifted her face and gazed straight into Chris' eyes.

Chris scratched the back of her head with one of her hands and turned her gaze to the poster plastered on one of the supports in the cafe.

"Well, I haven't tried it. So obviously I can't really tell you if it's good or bad." She turned her head to look back at Emma. "But, you sent me a picture last time when you made spaghetti, and honestly it looked kind of nas-"

She saw the sad expression plastered on Emma's face and couldn't bring herself to finish her sentence, sweat poured down her face.

"Nice, I meant nice, damn. I've learned English for so many years and yet I'm still mispronouncing words. Shame on me…" she rambled nervously and she sheepishly gazed at Emma's expression and was happy to see that there was a slight smile on her face.