Teodora entered the small bakery which had recently also become a coffee shop and was glad to see that the morning rush hour was ending. It was one of the super mega advantages of not having class the first hour, she always said. Poor all those unfortunates who did, but what was going to do, not everyone had their incredible luck, only worthy of it.
He took advantage of the time when both boys behind the counter looked after the last couple of customers left to look at the blackboard where all the drinks were written down.
The truth and unfortunately, there was no way, ugh, that you said many options, but then what was he going to do? Teodora was going to give her a chance. Not only because it was necessary to support the country's so neglected economy (Nothing cool, huh) but also because the place was always full, which obviously meant they had to make good coffee. Chance and even with that much-sounded coffee from Chiapas, beyond the village where the Indians worked the land very hard. How could she not prefer the hard work of her people?
In fact, I wanted to try it, not only to take a photo and upload it to Facebook, Twitter and Instagram with the hashtag "Consume Mexicano", if not because, well, obviously Teodora was of the team "United Mexicanos will never be Expired "and was excited to start consuming mainly national products.
When finally the last clients left with their coffee and a sweet bread, Teodora went to the counter where the boys who were probably brothers by their resemblance, were ready at last to attend it.
- Hey, and you do have coffee from Chiapas, right? She asked the nearest one, who was probably the youngest of the two. I had to make sure. "Or the Oaxacan mountains, or some village like that, you know." What I want is that the coffee is like that of Mexico, no international coffees. I mean, it's not that I do not like them, of course I do, but I'm trying to "consume Mexican", - he explained, making his toes in the air - you understand me, do not you?
The question lingered for a moment in the air in a confused silence on the part of the two boys until the older man trumpeted a laugh, trying to hold it and covering his mouth with a fist, declared:
- All yours, little brother. He went to the door that connected to the kitchen and disappeared behind her saying, "I'll go and check the shells that the nana Denise baked.
Leo, for his part, held his sigh. He looked away from his brother Nando to bring her back to the red-haired girl who looked as if she had come straight from an American series in Beverly Hills, with her cell phone and brand-name wallet in her hand, and held her sigh. The last thing he lacked was a bloody strawberry that had been lost to the Starbooks to conclude the morning hustle.
- Yes ... - he began, unsure if it was the answer that she expected - Yes we have both, I serve one?
The girl's smile seemed to shine even more with her response and exclaimed excitedly,
- Oh, yes. Which one do you recommend? So you say, this one is richer. But not so sweet, eh? I also want to bring a loaf of bread, "she added, keeping an eye on those on display.
- Uh, the Soconusco is very good.
Teodora blinked in his direction.
Of what?
Leo tried not to roll his eyes.
- The Soconusco, where it is produced in Chiapas.
"Ah, well," Teodora said, catching her smile. "Then that one."
Leo was typing the order in the cash register when she interrupted him.
- Oh, but that is in latte, yes? - she asked in his good strawberry voice - and you have dairy light? Is that I think I gave an intolerance to eat a medium rare cheese of some enmoladas last week at a party that gave an aunt, but obviously could not do the rudeness of not eating them and well, now as I prefer if the milk Is deacet.
Leo wanted to tell you that one does not develop such intolerances by getting stuck in cheese once, but he refrained. I had no idea how many words per second this girl could say, but it sure was a jet.
"We have dairy milk, but it's not light," he said. And because the devil surely blew in his ear, something took hold of him and added - We also do not serve lattes, only coffee pot.
The girl, already rummaging in her wallet for the money to pay, stopped dead. She looked at him confused and then at the coffee machines and other coffee machines they had to prepare the lattes and express behind him.
- Did the machine break down? She asked, almost alarmed.
Leo could not help but chuckle.
- I'm not sorry. It was a joke.
Teodora felt her soul slowly return to her body. I was not accustomed to having the service become chistosito, but this time I would let it happen just because I was looking good.
- And the milk?
Leo cleared his throat to regain his composure.
- There's no light there.
Teodora sighed.
- Well, what? Then she remembered something else. - But you can put my name to the glass, right? I know there's no one else, but I mean, for the photo to look pretty.
Of course, Leo thought. Of course he wanted to take her picture.
"Yes, I can put your name on you," he said, trying not to notice the sarcasm in his voice. - Which size?
- Great, you know. You do not have a clue how boring Professor Andrés's classes are, he'll dart a stream and then I can not stay awake. But the man is already big, what is he going to do? He's old enough, and I really need all the caffeine I need to keep from sleeping.
Leo finished typing the order in the cash register thinking she had no right to complain about the ravings of others when she dropped the data that the girl had just given. He looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.
- Do you also have classes with Don Andrés?
- The one who looks like Don Quixote and teaches history classes? yes!
Leo was suddenly embarrassed when she quickly swept him away, as if evaluating whether he was worthy of taking the same classes as her. She seemed to add something else, but Leo interrupted her by taking a glass from the counter and quickly taking out the downcloth on her apron.
- What is your name? - I ask.
She seemed to be offended by the abrupt change of subject when she seemed to have an idea and smirked.
- My name is Teodora Vicenta De La Purísima Concepción De la Immaculada Trinidad Villavicencio, Duchess of Oraverás, Marquesa del Jujuy and girl of the countess, - she concluded with great satisfaction of herself.
- What ...? How? She could not help stuttering him.
This time it was she who laughed.
"Teodora," he replied with a smile and a careless gesture of his hand. "Teodora is enough."
Her cell phone beeped and she unlocked it with one hand, staring at the screen. She did not pick her up even when she paid for the coffee and a gasp of cajeta. Leo told him he could grab it from the displays and gave him a small paper bag. Then he found himself preparing the coffee, feeling dispatched. When he turned to take a lid for the glass, he saw her taking a selfie with the breads in the background. She turned her back on him and rolled her eyes.
Teodora, for her part, quickly typed a "Valórala, eh, that almost caught me, and that would have been a super mega bear," before attaching the photo he had taken to the barista, all because Xóchitl had asked her when she He mentioned it. The double blue popcorn told Teodora that her friend had already seen the message, but since it was late to answer and she was never left in "seen" he insisted: "Better tell me if you've seen him in school before." Xóchitl finally answered but ignored his question, opting instead for a "ask his name".
Teodora snorted.
"Teodora, your coffee," he said then.
She put the cell phone in her jacket pocket and took her gasnate quickly. He returned to the counter and took his drink, but delayed in the same place. She looked at him again as if he were assessing her as she fiddled with the coffee remover.
Hey," he said finally, "and since I'll be coming along, what's your name?"
"Um, Leo," he replied, suppressing the urge to scratch the back of his neck, feeling strangely shy under her gaze that seemed to be magenta, no doubt due to some effect of light and the Mexican pink color of her dress.
Teodora took a sip of coffee and licked her lips. She looked satisfied. Whether it was coffee or his scrutiny, he was not sure.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Leo," he said with a flirtatious smile, he turned around and went out the door, leaving behind the fragrance of his perfume, probably very expensive for Paris, when he let go of the long curls as he turned.
Leo looked at her for a moment, half embarrassed, when Nando pulled him out of his stupor with his classic mocking voice.
- Uuuuuuuuuyyy, the chisguete has a girlfriend! - and exploded in silly songs and laughter.
Leo frowned and snorted.
"You better shut up and help me get the shells," he groaned.
But he really hoped Teodora would return the next day.