Of Coffee and Kisses
Today was already a mess, and it wasn't even 9am yet.
It all started when Max's ancient alarm clock failed to go off. That's how she came to wake up fifteen minutes before class started with a bad case of bedhead and the worst headache in history. She barely had time to brush her teeth and throw on a clean t-shirt before she was out the door. Then, as she raced down the front steps of the Blackwell Dormitory, she tripped over her own feet and went sprawling onto the sidewalk. Now there were scrapes on the heels of her hands and a tear in her favorite pair of jeans.
Fantastic.
The worst part was that she had been holding her camera- an old Polaroid that her parents had given her last year- and it flew out of her hand. Max definitely heard a crunch as it hit the pavement. Shit, was it broken? That old hunk of junk was her only decent camera. What use is a wannabe photographer without a camera?
And the real cherry on top was hearing the click of a shutter as she lay sprawled on the sidewalk. The familiar snide voice of Victoria Chase sounded in her ear. "Taking a nap, Max? Or are you so lame that you can't make it down the stairs without falling on your ass?"
Max picked herself up quickly, turning to face the queen bee of Blackwell. Victoria always seemed to appear out of nowhere whenever Max was making an ass out of herself. She had a gift. "Whatever, Victoria," Max muttered. "I don't have time for this today."
Victoria only smirked as she leaned against the railing, examining the screen of her five hundred dollar canon. "Ooh, this is a nice picture of you Max. Everyone should get to see it. In fact, I think I'll post in on my wall right now."
She turned to go. Good, thought Max, but before she had a chance to breathe Victoria turned around again. "Oh, and I think your little Polaroid is broken. Sadface." A little smirk appeared on the corner of her mouth. "At least you're not stuck in the retro zone anymore."
"Please piss off."
Victoria disappeared inside the building, much to Max's relief. She jogged over to her polaroid, scooping it up. The casing was cracked. Badly. Max held it up and tried to take a picture, but the shutter was jammed. Flipping the camera around to examine the front side, she discovered that the lens was cracked as well.
There was no salvaging it. Max heaved a sigh, tucking the broken camera into her bag. Where would she get another Polaroid? It wasn't exactly like they made them anymore. Max supposed she could always get a digital camera, but she liked the vibe that the instant film gave her pictures. Besides, it was nice to not have to wait to print them out. Letting out another sigh, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.
The blinking screen read 8:59. Shit. Class started in a minute. And there was no way she would be able to deal with this particular morning without coffee. Fuck it, she thought, I can be a little late. Or a lot late. Jefferson can deal.
She headed off campus and down Avery Street. Max was headed for her favorite little coffee place, the Two Whales. Starbucks was a little closer, but she didn't mind the walk. Besides, Starbucks was too corporate. Max liked the feel of the small, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that she had started spending more and more time in. Okay, so maybe I'm kind of a hipster. Sue me.
Max took a breath, looking up at the cloudy sky. The day matched her mood perfectly. The morning was just on the wrong side of chilly, and she found herself wishing that she had grabbed her jacket. She tucked her bare arms to her chest and began to walk faster down the street. The sooner she got inside, the better. Max hurried down the sidewalk, taking care not to bump into a jogger going the opposite direction.
Suddenly, a flash of color caught her eye.
The red and gold branches of a tall oak stood out against the grey sky. Some kid's bright blue kite was tangled in the branches, shimmering translucently even in the grey light. Max stopped in her tracks, despite the cold. A photographer never passed up the opportunity for a good photo op. She automatically reached for her camera before remembering the events of the morning. Shit. I totally forgot. Max's hand paused before she settled on taking a picture with her phone.
None of the shots she snapped were very good. She had become too used to her Polaroid. Now that is disappointing. What a waste.
Max continued on her way. She definitely needed a little coffee to help her through the rest of what was promising to be a shitty day. Soon, the Two Whales came into sight. Max jogged the short distance to the door, pushing it open. A small jingle signaled her arrival, but the shop seemed to be deserted. Max let warmth slowly seep into her skin as she pulled her bag over her head.
"Hello?" she called. "Anyone here?"
"Just a second!" The voice came from a back room. Max raised her eyebrows. That definitely didn't sound like Joyce.
She let her bag rest on the counter, scanning the chalkboard menu. Honestly, she didn't even need to bother anymore. No matter how long she looked at the menu, Max usually ended up ordering the same thing. A Caramel Latte with extra whipped cream. At the rate that she guzzled those, Max honestly wouldn't be surprised if she developed type II diabetes by the end of the year. A smile tugged up the corner of her mouth as she thought of her what her mom would say if she knew about all the caffeine Max had been consuming over the past few months.
Suddenly a girl emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a rag. She was tall and thin, with bright blue hair and a frown on her face. Her white tank top read YES HOMO in rainbow caps, and a tattoo snaked its way down the full length of her right arm. "Sorry about that," she said, grabbing a black apron and slipping it over her head. "The fucking cappuccino machine jammed up again. That's the third time in two days."
Holy shit. Max swallowed. She knew she was staring, but she just couldn't help herself. "It's, um, fine."
As the girl threw the towel onto the counter, Max squinted at her nametag- one of those red and white stickers that said "My Name Is _". Chloe was messily scrawled across the blank space.
"So, what can I get-," Chloe cut off, finally raising her head to look at Max. She stared for a moment before a grin stretched across her face. "Oh. Hi there."
"Um. Hi." Max tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly conscious of how rumpled she must look this morning. "Could I get… um…"
She stared at the menu again without really seeing it. She was hyperaware of Chloe's gaze looking her up and down. Max hoped her face wasn't turning red. Thirty seconds went by, and still she wasn't able to focus on what she wanted.
Max licked her lips. "Um, coffee. I'd like coffee please." Oh my god, Max. That was so lame.
Chloe raised her eyebrows. "That's hella vague. Do you have anything specific in mind?"
Hella? Max thought, amused. Who says that? She tried to order her usual, but for some reason the words wouldn't come out. What she said instead was, "Surprise me."
"Sure thing." Chloe reached under the counter and grabbed a to-go cup. Stepping up to one of the shiny silver machines, Chloe got to work. The thing looked so complicated, and Max still had no idea how it worked. I guess I'll just chalk it up to magic.
"So…" Max begun awkwardly. She really wanted to talk to this girl, but she had always been sort of a mess when it came to conversation. Just say the first thing that comes to mind. "I haven't seen you around before. Where's Joyce?"
Chloe snorted. "Hanging with my step-douche, probably. She broke her ankle last week, so she asked me to run the shop while she's recovering. And I wouldn't have earned any daughter points by making my crippled mother run the shop with a broken ankle." She gestured broadly around the empty shop. "So, here I am."
"Wowsers." Then this was just a temporary thing. Max found herself feeling a little disappointed.
Chloe punched a few buttons on the espresso machine and leaned against the counter. Her brow furrowed when nothing happened. Cursing under her breath, she hit her fist hard against the side of the machine. A large cloud of steam filled the room as it spluttered to life. "There we go."
Max stared up at the steam. Was that supposed to happen? She had a feeling that it wasn't.
Chloe spoke again, interrupting the silence that had just started to settle around them. "I haven't seen you around before, either. Trust me, I would remember." Chloe grinned, making Max's cheeks go red. Oh my god, was the hot, punk-rock barista really flirting with her? The flush crept from her face to her neck, making her freckles stand out against the pink skin.
"Y-yeah, I'm, um, usually in class by now," Max mcanaged to stammer out. "Decided to ditch today. I needed the caffeine too much."
"You go to Blackhell?"
Max nodded.
"Figures. That place is on a whole 'nother level when it comes to producing hella hipster assholes." Chloe suddenly looked up. "Not that you're an asshole. That's not what I-,"
"It's fine," Max said, smiling. "I know what you mean. I actually can't stand some of the people there. They've just got this elitist aura that totally kills my creative vibes."
Chloe snorted. "What a hippie. So you're an artist?"
"Kind of. I take pictures."
"Ooh la la, a photographer." Chloe waggled her eyebrows and rolled her shoulder in a circle. What a total dork. "Wanna take my picture?"
"What?" Max asked.
"Snap a pic. Blue-haired punk and a shitty, hipster café. Not a half-bad shot. Besides, it'll give you something to remember me by."
Max sighed. Now that Chloe mentioned it, that really would be a great shot. "I wish. I dropped my camera like an idiot this morning." She pulled the cracked Polaroid out of her bag, setting it on the counter so Chloe could see it. The crack had gotten even bigger, which was probably the result of all the walking she had done.
Chloe took a closer look, whistling. "Wow, you really fucked it up, didn't you?"
Max nodded glumly.
They stood in silence for a moment, just staring down at the broken camera. Chloe furrowed her brow, thinking. Suddenly, she looked up at Max with shining eyes. "Hey, I've got an old polaroid lying around somewhere. It should still be in pretty good condition. Why don't you take it?"
"What? No, I couldn't!"
"Sure you can, hippie. S'not like I use it, anyway. My dad would be happy to know it was going to good use." Chloe leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. Her face was closer to Max's now. "Besides, now you have a reason to come back and see me."
Max blushed. She had already been planning on coming back tomorrow, though it's not like she was going to admit it to the barista. "Alright," she heard herself saying. "Sure. Sounds great."
The timer went off on the silver coffee machine. Chloe filled the cup with coffee, fitting the lid onto it tightly. Then, she picked up a sharpie. "Name?" she asked with a grin.
How had she forgotten to mention her name? "Max," she said, opening her wallet. Chloe scribbled it onto the coffee cup. "How much do I owe you?"
Chloe pushed the coffee into her hands. "Don't worry about it, Max attack. On the house."
Wowsers, she already came up with a nickname? Max tilted her head up to look into the punk's eyes, somewhat nonplussed. "You can't just go around giving free stuff to every cute girl that comes in here, you know."
"Oh, trust me," Chloe smirked, "I don't."
That had Max blushing again, and damnit, she wished she wasn't so pale. It looked like someone had splattered splotchy magenta paint all over her skin. "Well, um, thanks." She turned and headed out of the café, passing someone who had just walked in. It was the jogger that she had seen earlier. She smiled a hello, tossing a look over her shoulder. The new customer was standing at the counter, talking, but Chloe's eyes were locked onto Max.
The photographer smiled tentatively, earning a returning grin from Chloe. It wasn't until Max was outside that she glanced down at the coffee in her hand. If it was possible, even more heat rose to her face. She was glad that Chloe couldn't see the violent shade of pink that she was turning. Scrawled across the side of the cup in a messy script was Chloe's name and what was presumably her cell phone number.
So that happened, Max thought dizzily. She made her way up the sidewalk, smiling to herself. I guess today didn't start off so bad after all.
Not even the detention she got from Mr. Jefferson was able to remove the warmth that Chloe's grin had left in the pit of her stomach.