grande chai tea latte
one half whole milk
one half chai concentrate
steam to 145
half an inch of foam
Edward Cullen walked into my life without a care in the world
(I assumed.)
He was wealthy
(I assumed.)
Talented
(I assumed.)
Beautiful
(I knew.)
/
Because I could tell by the way that he moved
Pure, aching tenderness
Pure, aching charisma
Eat your heart out
/
He comes here every Sunday
I mean, so do I, but it's different
Hell, I work here.
I'm here every god damn mother fucking second of my life
(Except Tuesday and Thursday)
(Except my sporadic classes at South Seattle CC)
/
Got a problem?
/
He comes at the same time, too
It's a common time
It's not strange or anything
He comes at noon
People are lazy on Sundays
They get up late, come in late, need espresso to make it through the afternoon
/
Like Sandra
She has two kids, Sandra. And a dog.
Sometimes she leaves her dog outside, tied up to the bike racks
I don't know
Her kids are always crazy I mean, they pull at her hair, her earrings
They're the type that hang people's legs
I mean, the type that accidentally change to the legs of a stranger while still thinking they're on Sandra's
I feel bad for the stranger
It's always the same reaction
There's a strange kid on my leg.
Fucking now what?
Nothing. You have to deal. Sucks.
/
Sandra comes in right before Edward
I don't even see Sandra anymore I just hear the alarm
Edward's next, Edward's next, Edward's next
/
I'm getting ahead of myself, though
I mean, I didn't know his name when I first met him
I mean, he didn't even introduce himself to me
I mean, I overheard his name being called out by one of his friends
/
Anyway
He comes in like the beautiful people do
Smiling, little crease dimples
Lips slightly chapped
Biting cold
He shivers and it's still beautiful
Takes off his jacket
Takes off his athletic bag (It's slung over his shoulder when he walks in. It's always slung over his shoulder when he walks in)
Today there's an umbrella
He shakes off the rain, creating a mini puddle by the door
I'll be cleaning that later
Bastard
/
"Hello," he says
And like a moth to a flame
I'm dead.
/
I smile
It's fake
I'm still dead
"What can I get for you?"
/
"Grande chai tea latte?"
/
I don't know if he's insecure or whatever, but everything he orders sounds like a question
Now, normally, that would put me off
Make up your damn mind
It's your damn order
Right?
But instead I just smile and nod
"Of course."
/
And I take his credit card
And bam, bam, bam
Just like that
It's over
/
I stand by the espresso machine
The douche is playing on the radio
Sorry, I mean John Mayer is playing on the radio
I've memorized the words
I only hear it every day
/
And I'm free, free fallin'
And I'm free, free fallin'
/
I'm not free
Or falling
Thanks anyway
/
I hand him his drink
I don't know his name (at this point, anyway)
Right now he's just red
/
Red lips
Red hair
Red eyes
Red ears
Red cheeks
Just red
/
He nods a thanks
I mean, he ducks his head just a bit.
He does the same when walking out the door
He doesn't make eye contact with most people
He doesn't make eye contact with me
I mean, it's not like I'm anything special
It's not like he saw me one day and had an epiphany
It's not like he was all,
"Oh, Bella Swan, you're so beautiful, you're so lovely, you're so clumsy (err, scratch that last part), you're so innocent, you have such small hands. I love you. Marry me?"
Because, three things
/
I dub this the Bella Swan triad:
One
I am undoubtedly average
Two
I live my life unnoticed
Three
I don't have small hands
Small hands are weird
You can't, like, hold things
/
That night, I close down the cafe
Outside, the stars are glowing faintly
The city lights are omnipresent
Overshadowing
Exhausting
Like we can't stand too much natural beauty so we have to push it out, away
Replace it with ideals
Replace it when the ideals change
Knock it down, build it up.
Repeat
I wipe off the tables
Cyclical
/
I call my apartment "Alice"
I mean, I didn't name my apartment
That would be weird
Alice just lives there
And it looks like she's the only one that lives there
Because I've yet to make a mark on anything
Ever
With anyone
She's out with her boyfriend when I come home
She usually is, anyway
It's not like this is surprising
It's kind of nice, actually
Splitting the rent with someone who doesn't even live here, I mean
Alice attends some classes with me at SSCS
Her boyfriend goes to UW
He lives in a frat
So, naturally, I changed his name from Jasper to Brosper
He's nice enough
He's not around much either
/
I think they love each other too much for anything else to matter
Is that healthy?
/
I fall asleep on the couch
When I wake up, it's like I've only blinked
/
Mondays are slow
I sit with my chin resting in my palm, my eyes drooping, my soul tired
The little bell above the door rings, but I don't hear it
I do, eventually, hear the
"Hello? Excuse me?"
I startle awake
/
"Sorry. Hi."
/
Well, hello, Red.
/
Seeing him without Sandra's preemptive presence throws me off
I mean, it isn't even a Sunday
Can't anyone be at least a little predictable anymore?
/
"What can I get for you?"
/
My thoughts are garbled, jumbled, broken
I'm surprised my words aren't the same
/
"Two grande chai lattes"
-he hesitates-
"Please?"
/
"Sure."
/
I ring him up.
He starts pulling money from his pocket.
It is crinkled.
Usually he uses a card, but not today.
He's 50 cents short
I tell him
He stares at me dumbly
His eyes open
Really open
/
They're green
Evergreen
/
I tell him again
"I need 50 more cents"
He digs his hands deep into his pockets
His face is endless
His face is something else, though, too
It's desperate
/
The bell chimes again
"Edward, is something wrong?"
This is the first time I've heard his name
It's monumental
/
The girl walking through the doorway has hair pulled back so tightly it looks painful
It's in a bun
Her skin is starched
Pale
Perfect
She has on make up, an oversized coat, and ballet shoes dangling from curled fingers
She looks flustered, but happy
/
I want to breathe like her
Fill my lungs and taste the air
/
Edward turns around
"I'm 50 cents short"
She pulls change from her pocket
"Here"
He blushes
"Thanks"
He's a mumbler
I watch them walk out together, Edward's athletic bag slung over his shoulder
/
In their absence, nothing has changed
Except the knowledge that now I know his name.
i dont even know.
title's from the Shins song