Those Maudlin Days

Morning shifts were the worst.

It was bad enough that I was forced not only to get up at the crack of dawn, but after spending a good portion of time taking down chairs from tables, readying the food display and 'setting the mood,' as my perky manager Amber liked to say, the last thing I wanted to do was actually deal with other human beings. But that was my job as the cashier of the only Costa in Wolverhampton. Service with a smile was what sold, after all.

So while business men, busy soccer moms, hipster kids and secondary students filed in alike, all with grumpy looks on their faces, talking into cellular devices or too perky for seven in the morning, I tried my hardest to keep the backhanded comments to myself. In the end, the morning rush came and went in a flash -- a really long, extremely hard flash. It normally started dwindling down around ten and I was able to finally breathe and take a brief break behind the counter when no one was asking me how light the Costa Light really was.

"Hey, look at these fags now," Chase, my immature but attractive coworker muttered with a grin as he nodded towards the door.

I wanted to give him the usual lecture about using the offensive word, but as he went back to cleaning dishes ducking his head down, I heard the chatter and laughter of a group of boys. Jumping down from the counter top beside the register, I looked down at the machine. I didn't care to make eye contact. If I made myself look busy, then I could relax my face muscles and not have to wear such fake and big smile. I recited the usual like a Costa-trained robot, "Welcome to Costa, the nation's favorite, made for coffee lovers like you. What can I get you this lovely morning?"

"Cute accent," I heard from above me, like I did at least once every morning since I had moved to Wolverhamption a good six years ago. It was like people in the UK hadn't ever heard an American accent in their lives. Like they never turned on the 'telly' after a long day at their boring jobs and watched an episode of Dancing With the Stars, Keeping Up With the Kardashians or good ol' Grey's Anatomy. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Same goes to you," I quipped sarcastically, finally meeting the customer's gaze. But to be honest, I was quickly taken back by the gray orbs staring back at me and the boyish half smile he wore. He was good-looking, to say the very least, dressed in a faded red shirt with the short sleeves rolled, sagged skinny jeans and a beanie that pushed back his dark locks.

"Touché," he chuckled, but as his smirk only grew, I felt like he was entirely aware that I had been checking him out and that it was a feeling he was used to.

I couldn't help myself. If Amber had seen, I would have been instantly scolded. But I rolled my eyes anyway, my voice sharp, "What can I get you?"

"Well, that wasn't very --" he began, but a friend of his from behind him stopped the conversation.

"Erin? Erin Coyne?"

I leaned to my left, looking past the smug boy before me as the other three guys parted and let the fifth boy through. A wide smile was on his face, his light brown hair pushed out of his eyes for once and as he walked closer, it came to me. My eyes widened in genuine delight, "Liam Payne!"

"I knew it was you! Your hair has gotten so long, but the clever sarcasm was good reassurance," Liam laughed as he leaned against the counter beside his friend and looked me over in my beige apron, black Costa shirt and name tag. "Wow, have you changed."

"Well, it's been a good four years since we dated for those two weeks in secondary school," I teased, pulling out the 'clever sarcasm' card he mentioned earlier. It was true. Ever since I could remember, I was constantly responding to moronic statements and questions with cold, sly comments. But if I could remember correctly, it was the one thing that Liam liked enough about me to stay friends with me even after our mutual and awkward break up. He thought the 'cheekiness' was endearing.

"That's true. Though I would have never pegged you as the Costa girl type," he stated, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head to the side.

I crinkled my nose, "I'm only a Costa girl when I'm not going to my classes at the University of Wolverhampton. Have to pay my part of rent for my flat somehow."

"Music major?" he asked, though I knew he knew the answer.

I smiled. Music was another thing that kept us friends after our uncomfortable couple weeks together. It was something we both equally loved. But while Liam was more focused on vocals, I stuck to my classical music and my trusty violin that I had been playing since grade school back in New York, before I moved to Wolverhampton. "Of course."

Beside us, the boy from earlier cleared his throat loudly, leaning back against the fridge that was holding the food display. We both looked in his direction, but as he glanced up from his phone, he stood up, "Oh, please don't stop chit chatting for lil' ol' me."

Liam rolled his own eyes, but that didn't stop him from patting the boy on the back, "Right, of course. Excuse me. Erin, this is Harry."

"Styles. Harry Styles," he greeted in a James Bond-like manner, raising his eyebrows with his infamous smug smirk. I stared at him blankly.

Liam caught on, stepping back a bit and now gesturing to the three guys behind him who seemed deep in conversation, "And these gentlemen are Louis, Niall and Zayn." Upon hearing their names, each boy looked in my direction, letting their conversation fall. They waved, giving a chorus of 'hello's and as Liam looked back to me, he smiled, "They're my bandmates, visiting my hometown with me because I was getting a little homesick."

"A little?" Niall piped up, his Irish accent clear as day. "Since we got here, it's been, 'Oh, look at that building, I used to walk by that building every day.'"

The boys laughed and Louis agreed, "Yeah, or like, 'Aw, look at that sidewalk, I spit out my chewing gum on that sidewalk once.'"

"Or the best one, 'Look at that park bench! I almost shagged a girl on that park bench once!'" Zayn joined in.

The chorus of laughter that followed was hard not to join in on, so I pressed my lips together for Liam's sake, covering my mouth to stifle any noises, but I didn't seem to be fooling him. He just pursed his lips, nodding slowly as a pink tinge took over his cheeks. When the commotion finally calmed down, he shook his head, "It's embarrassing because Erin would be the girl I almost shagged on that park bench."

It was my turn to blush, but I promptly explained, "Well, you shouldn't have made such a hasty move. I was a newcomer to the secondary school, you were in the grade above me and we had only been spending time with each other for two weeks. I was nervous as it was."

"I was a rambunctious teenage boy. Doesn't mean you had to literally push me away and nearly run home," he countered jokingly.

I opened my mouth to make another snarky reply, but when nothing came to mind, I just moved on with another conversation topic, one less awkward to talk about in front of five boys, "So you're bandmates, huh? What do you call yourselves?"

It was Harry who proudly responded, "One Direction!"

"Oh, that's right!" I perked up, my eyes swinging back to my long time friend. There was a reason why Liam and I had lost touch. While he graduated from secondary school and moved onto college, only to drop out to go onto a big music show, I stuck around Wolverhampton. But I heard it all. People talked nonstop about Liam and his failures and successes. By the time I had finally graduated, moved into a flat further into the city with a friend, and began my classes at the University, Liam had managed his way back onto X-Factor, got placed into a group with four other boys, then gotten kicked off. But that didn't stop them from stealing the hearts of teenage girls around the world, especially throughout the United Kingdom. "It's hard to go to Tesco and not see your face on nearly every magazine on the rack."

"Aw, I want to see my face in Wolverhampton's Tesco!" Liam said, his eyes darting to his bandmates. They all gave him a similar look, one that read, 'See what I mean?' And instantly, the boy cleared his throat, turning back to me, "So about that order of coffee."

I laughed, deciding to give him a break and took four orders of iced coffees and espressos alike before Harry leaned forward. Taking my hand in his, he dropped the money in it, closing it softly and bringing it to his lips. He kissed my knuckles gently, smiling at me before saying, "Just a black coffee, love. And maybe a call sometime."

I furrowed my brow, but as I opened my hand and looked down, I caught sight of the gum wrapper with seven digits sprawled across it in chicken scratch.

Liam pulled Harry's arm back, rolling his eyes, "Excuse him, I have no other explanation for this other than that he's been listening to that Carly Rae Jepsen song for weeks now."

"It has a catchy tune!" Harry tried to explain, but Chase, from the delivery spot, began calling out the boys' names to get their readied drinks.

I was just throwing away the receipts that all of them rejected when I heard Liam from the door, "I'll see you sometime soon, Erin. Maybe we can go get drinks at a pub or something before I leave town again."

I smiled. I doubted Liam's number was the same and I knew mine had changed as well. It was one of those polite, empty promises that past friends said to each other in hopes of keeping things easy-going and to make a quick getaway. But I didn't feel the need to call Liam out on it. He seemed like a very busy and incredibly important person now, different from the timid yet troublesome one I had grown up with. So I just nodded, "That sounds wonderful, Liam."

"And maybe I can join," Harry jumped in, wiggling his eyebrows as the other boys walked past him, out onto the busy Wolverhampton streets.

I decided not to be as cold as the autumn day outside and allowed my grin to widen, "Goodbye to you, too, Harry Styles."

He smiled at me, pleased that he wasn't entirely shot down as he had been repeatedly before. And with a small lift of his Costa cup, he pushed the door open, disappearing as the bell rang above him, indicating his departure.