Chapter One
But if it weren't for the coffee, I'd have no identifiable personality whatsoever.
~David Letterman
I can’t believe this. I mean, I really, really, really cannot believe this.
It is the busiest day of our schedule, we had a phone interview, then a radio interview, a photo shoot with Demi for Camp Rock 2, then we had a show that night, and my guitar was so out of tune, I was going to have to do it myself. I don’t exactly trust the sounds techs that much.
All of this crap is going on today. And my brothers designate me to go get them coffee.
Coffee.
They didn’t even tell me before hand. They just said, ‘Kevin, here’s what we want for coffee, now go get it like the good brother you are.’ Well, they actually didn’t say it. They wrote it on a piece of paper, and handed it to me before running off.
I put my Tahoe in park at the Starbucks in Toronto, and took off my seat belt, shaking my head as I looked down at the list in my hand. Told you they wrote it down… anyway, I looked at what I was supposed to be getting for everyone. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. I had to get coffee for Me, Joe, mom, dad, Nick, Demi, Alyson, Megan, Anna, Aaryn, Jordan, Roshon, Tricia, and Aimee. Do you realize how stupid I am going to look carrying…four drink trays out of Starbucks?
As I walked away from my truck, I hit the lock button twice, making sure that the doors were most definitely locked, then I put my sunglasses on and pushed open the glass door of Starbucks.
The second I walked in, there were two things that I noticed immediately. One, was the delicious smell of the coffee and pastries there, I was dying for a chocolate chip cookie, but with a show later, that was a no can do. The second thing, was the size of the line.
“They so owe me for this.” I muttered, looking at my watch before taking my place behind a girl with long straight blonde hair. She was also dressed really nicely too, which is surprising, all of the girls that I see this early in the morning are dressed in pajamas. But she wasn’t.
She was wearing a red sweater that fit her hourglass figure perfectly, not to tight, but just enough so I could see that she was in good shape. If I peeked over her shoulder, I could see that underneath her sweater, she was wearing a white blouse, only because the collar was folded over the collar of the sweater. The sweater layered over a pair of dark grey, pinstriped slacks with a metal belt that had silver linked rings on it, and her legs were toned, not that I was looking. When I finally reached her feet, and saw the heels she was wearing, I made a decision.
This girl had style.
If it even is a girl, with my luck it would be a cross dresser or a transvestite. That’s how it usually works…
The line moved forward a little bit, and I looked at my watch before pulling out my cell phone. I quickly navigated through the menu and into my contacts, so I could send a text to Joe telling him how much he owed me for running and getting coffee, and the line moved again.
Twenty minutes later, I was the second person in line. The blonde girl was just finishing her order of a grande sized pumpkin spice latte, a grande sized gingersnap latte, and a grande sized cinnamon latte. She must work for some weird people… I wonder what she does…
I looked down at my watch again, and saw that I only had about a half hour to get back to set.
“Hurry up….” I muttered beginning to bounce up and down on the balls of my feet, at the rate this was going, this was never going to get done. “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.”
“Thank you.” The girl in front of me said, picking up her drink tray. I rushed forward as she began to turn, thinking that she saw me.
But she didn’t.
“Holy crap! That’s hot!” I said as the coffee spilled all over me. It created quite the scene, there she was, her hands over her mouth staring at the coffee all over the floor and there I was, pulling my t-shirt away from my chest, trying to get the burning liquid away from me. She stared at the cups on the ground in shock, before speaking quietly.
“I’m so sorry.” She said. “I am so, so sorry. I was in such a hurry I didn’t look where I was going.”
“That makes two of us.” I said. “And don’t worry, it’s only a shirt.”
Her eyes slowly traveled up to my face, then they widened, and she looked back down, grabbing her hair in frustration.
“I spilled coffee on Kevin freaking Jonas. Oh. My. God.” She said before shaking her head and looking up again. As soon as she did, I barely got a glimpse of her striking green eyes before she looked down again. “Yeah, it is Kevin Jonas. I’m not dreaming.”
“Well, seeing as you know who I am, who are you?” I asked, smiling before crouching down to pick up the cups and drink tray as an employee came out with a mop.
“I’m Emily Johnson.” She said quietly.
“It’s nice to meet you Emily. I’m Kevin.”
“Yeah I know. You’re in that band the Jonas Brothers.”
“Yeah… are you a fan?”
“Not really.”
“Oh.” I said, frowning a bit.
“Well, I really have to go.” She said, before pulling a twenty out of her pocket and offering it to me. “For a new shirt.” She added.
“No, really, I don’t need the money. Don’t worry about it.” I said, refusing the money.
“I’ll feel better if you take it.”
“I really don’t want it.” I said, refusing the money again. “Don’t worry, really. I’ll be fine. It’s just a shirt. Trust me.”
“Okay… well, it was nice meeting you.”
“You too.”
“Here’s your freaking coffee,” I said, handing the cup to Joe. He was standing with his girlfriend Tricia, who was already sipping away on her Vanilla Bean Frappachino. “You owe me, like big time.” I added.
“Thanks man.” He said, taking the cup… he crinkled his nose at me and I groaned. Here it comes. “Kevin, why do you smell like cinnamon… or no is that pumpkin spice… gingersnap?”
“Forget it.”
