The Coffee Girl

If someone was to tell me that in four months my life was going to unfold the way it did, I wouldn’t believe them. Wouldn’t wonder if there was a chance. Wouldn’t even stay to listen to whatever else they had to say. That just goes to show that nothing can ever be expected except amazement. Intrigue and complete confusion – sometimes for the better and for the worst.

From September to December – the time it takes for a season to change – I had experienced one of the greatest revelations of my adult life. There is discovering that not every day of school is important to your education. There is the realization that, sometimes, your parents aren’t that much smarter than you are. And there is the acceptance that good things can come in the strangest, most infuriating packages imaginable. Mine being six feet tall with brown hair and a brilliant smile.

My hand moved in circles over the almost clean counter, the green cloth capturing any crumbs or imperfections. My mind, however, was somewhere else. Somewhere far from the average day reality. Behind me, Rachel impatiently pushed the buttons on the cash register, like a monkey amidst an experiment. Waiting for it all to be over.

“Aprons are to be tied tightly at all times.” Malcolm’s voice was like a broken record, but for once he wasn’t talking to Rachel or me. I moved the cloth carefully to the sink and dumped out the crumbs as I watched, with amusement, Malcolm instruct the new girl around the wonderful world of Starbuck’s. As if the cups and deserts would spontaneously break into song and dance, welcoming her. Jaime wouldn’t get the luxury. She would be trapped in this loop of coffee and customers for however long she could handle it.

I turned to Malcolm with a smile. “Go easy on her,” I said, “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten a new employee and we don’t need you scaring her away.” Malcolm frowned then turned back to Jaime, trying to regain whatever air of importance he once had. “Besides,” I continued, knowing he could still here me despite his desperate trying not to, “She’s my ticket to a free afternoon.” I smiled at her and before Rachel could ask me what I was talking about, I moved back to the counter, waiting for our last few customers to enter before my Saturday officially started.

Finally, the door opened, revealing that blonde hair and blue eyes I had grown accustomed to. Patrick strode in with a playful smirk on his lips and his hands in the pockets of his spring sweater. “Hey, beautiful.” Two words I had been hearing from him every time he came into the coffee shop. I smiled and shook my head before stepping aside, letting Jaime move forward. She leaned over the counter, her brown hair falling out of its ponytail, and met Patrick’s lips with enthusiasm.

It was nice seeing everything work out the way it was. Rachel and Sharpie. Jaime and Patrick. Me and – “Where’s Jonathan?” I asked, breaking the pleasant silence between Patrick and the girl actually meant for him. I tried to not sound as desperate as I did, but something in the way Patrick looked at me – that crooked smile and those arrogantly knowing eyes – made me mentally slap myself. “I mean – he said he was coming.” I smiled meekly.

“You still have half an hour to go,” Malcolm said from behind me. I rolled my eyes and faced him. He wasn’t the same Malcolm, not after what had happened with him and Jonathan. He stared at me and sighed. “But I guess you’ve put in enough hours this week.” I smiled and he folded his arms over his chest. He hated being defeated, that much was obvious.

I turned back to Patrick whilst removing my apron. Rachel continued poking at the register mindlessly. “He’s outside,” Patrick said. I smiled in thanks then hung my apron in the back before grabbing my things and heading out into the cool weather of April. Rays of sun beat down on my skin and the sound of leaves in the wind tickled my ears. It was a warm welcome back from such a cold winter. Cold in more ways than one. The reflection of light from across the street caught my wandering eyes.

“You’re out,” Jonathan said, pushing himself up off the side of his car to full, upright position. His voice was low and surprised. Bits of sun peaked out through parts of his dark hair and his eyes looked almost hazel. This, too, was a warm welcome back.

I chuckled and crossed the street. “I wasn’t in prison,” I said and he rolled his eyes at the remark. That familiar silence grew between us; the silence where no words were spoken but so much was understood. The silence that defined our relationship as what it was. He stared down at me with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. “So...”

“So,” he repeated with a small laugh then moved closer to me. I felt my heart thud against my ribcage as the space was closed between us. Reaching his hand up, he softly pushed a strand of hair way from my face. His index finger ran over my crinkled brow as the sun burned my eyes then down my nose to my lips. “Kaner said he’s going to spend the rest of the day with Jaime.”

“It’s just the two of us, then?” I asked with a smile.

Jonathan nodded.

“Are you okay with that?” My tone was humorous and he noticed, broadening his smile. “You know – spending time with me in public because you want to and not because of Kaner.”

He pursed his lips. “Yes,” he said in an emphatic tone. Steady and sure.

I chuckled airily. “Positive? I am, only, the local coffee girl.” Jonathan lowered both his hands until they wrapped around mine. It felt warm and safe in his grip, like nothing could hurt me outside of the bubble we had created. He pulled me towards him until my front met his.

“Yeah,” he said simply, one hand cupping my cheek, “but you’re my coffee girl.” Then he bent his head down and his lips met mine, finalizing it.