Shades

“Yes James, I’m in line now,” a girl snapped playfully into the phone that was resting on her shoulder.

“You better not forget to get my muffin.”

“I won’t forget your muffin, don’t worry,” she laughed at the sexual joke that could be made at that.

“How much longer will you be? Are you almost ordering?”

“Yeah, I’m second from the counter, so shut up and wait until I get back,” she snapped jokingly again.

She was talking to her friend and band-mate, who just happens to be the worst worrier she had ever met. Not a very befitting trait for a rock star, though he seems to pull it off well enough.

Of course, being a rock star, this girl didn’t often come across as a girl to most people. She barely left the house in a color other than black and more often than not was clad in a leather jacket. Boots and other types of clunky shoes were almost the only ones she would wear. And sunglasses rarely left her face.

She never really dressed as most girls did, though. It wasn’t just because she was a rock star. She was always a bit of a tomboy while growing up and she always knew she was different. But that’s a different story for another day.

“Goodbye James,”

“You’re getting off the phone?”

“Yes, I’m going,”

“What about my muffin? You won’t forget it? I know you, girl, and you‘re going to forget,”

“You don’t know me that well, and no I won’t freaking forget it! Calm the hell down, boy. Now goodbye.”

“Alright, just don’t forget it. Goodbye,”

She hung up on her friend before he could worry any further and put her phone back in the pocket of her leather jacket. The man in front of her in line took hold of his drink and walked away. She stepped up to the counter and couldn’t help but admire the looks of the woman behind the counter as she ordered. Short white blonde hair, shaped eyebrows, pink lips, a button nose and a tattoo running down from the top of her arm.

That woman had the same look of admiration on her face as she looked at her newest customer. Shoulder length choppy black hair, nose ring, lip ring, a boyish figure and tattoos up and down each arm. She also noticed that the woman in all black had her sunglasses on inside the building. It added a certain mystery to this gal and she couldn’t help but wish to see behind those dark lenses.

“Can I help you, beautiful?” the blonde asked, smirking at the blushing drummer.

“I’m going to need two black coffees, a black tea with honey, a caramel mocha frost, and a white chocolate mocha. All five make the largest size you have,” she rattled off by memory, chuckling as she said the fancy, “girly” drink that James ordered. Sometimes, she thought, he could be such a girly man.

“Can I get a name for the order?” the girl behind the counter asked, partly just because she wanted to know something about this mysterious girl standing in front of her.

“Sandra,” she volunteered, scoping out the name badge on her shirt that read Clarence.

“Thank you dear,” Clarence smirked, turning to make everything in Sandra’s order. She set down each cup in a multiple-drink holder as she made it. While she was making the last drink, Sandra gasped.

“Oh, I almost forgot; I need a chocolate muffin also.”

Of course she would forget the muffin that James repeatedly told her not to forget. Maybe he really did know her better than she thought.

“Not a problem at all, sweets,” Clarence nodded cutely.

Sandra was walking away within the next five minutes with five drinks and a muffin in a bag. She just happened to look down at the bag and saw that a phone number was written in permanent marker on the paper. Smirking, she turned back to the counter.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later Clarence,”

“Please, call me Clare,” the woman insisted, smiling. “And maybe next time we meet I can see the eyes behind those shades, Sandra.”

“I think I can make that happen,”