Coffee Shop

I hate people, I think, while sitting on the bus. They're all the same; egocentric fucking assholes that want nothing to do with anyone who is different than them.
Take right now, for instance. Two girls, blonde hair, blue eyes are giggling and laughing and saying something about Paris Hilton. They look up at me, and I smile at them, trying to be nice. They just scowl at me, like I'm a piece of chewed gum stuck to the bottom of their $300 shoes.
They look at me like that because I'm different. My hair is black, my eyes are green, I have piercings and tattoos, my shoes weren't $300…..and I don't give two shits about Paris Hilton.
Why cant people just accept people for who they are? I do. I accept the those bitches for who they are. I smile at them and be nice. And all they do is treat me like shit.

The bus finally stops at my stop and I get off and immediately light up a cigarette. I let out a breath and look at the sky. Dreary, like the rest of the world. It's nearing November and it's getting cold out. I pull on my black and white plaid jacket, trying to seal in the warmth. I quickly finish my cigarette on the walk to my favorite coffee shop, The Wicked Bean which I used to go frequently, but haven't been to in a while.

I step in and instantly my mood lifts as the atmosphere drastically changes. The mixture of coffee grounds, baked cookies and the slight flicker of steamed milk fill my nose, enter my lungs and dissolve into my heart. The warm inviting air makes me shiver as I listen for the mechanical sounds of the coffee pots. I detect the familiar sound as well as jazz music playing softly.

I look around the shop. The linoleum floors and Formica counter tops that used to be here were kicked to the curb for shiny cherry-wood floors and beautiful gray granite counters tops. The appliances are all stainless steel and the china is new and chip free. Stepping into the foyer of sorts, I slowly exhale. What happened to the quaint shop I used to know? Things are so different now. At least the smell is the same.

I walk up to the new counter to study the menu, which has also changed. I hear clanging coming from the open door behind the counter. As my eyes shift from the menu to the door, I see a guy come from the doorway and quickly put his apron on. As he turns to face me, I stare in awe. His eyes meet mine and I can't breathe. The flecks of green in his hazel eyes jump out at me. They match his chestnut colored hair and his full lips perfectly. I smile at him, paralyzed from doing anything more.

Surprisingly, he smiles back at me then scans my body slowly. I blush.

"Hi." he says, his eyes twinkle from behind his shaggy bangs. I just nod my head, acknowledging his hello.
"What can I get for you?" he asks sweetly.

I hesitate at first, still stuck in zero gravity in his eyes. When I hit the ground, gravity coming to, I order. "Medium Caramel Latte, extra shot of espresso."

As I pull out my wallet, the cash register pulls up the price of my drink. He reads it, "$3.00."

I grab a 5 dollar bill out and hand it to him. Seconds later, he is prepared to give me my change, but I shake my head.

"Keep the change." I say, pushing his hand back.

"Why? It's $2." He says, slightly confused, then hands me my order.

I grab the coffee from him and turn to leave. I stop, one hand holding my latte and the other on the door, ready to open it. As I look back at him, I smile and the words slip from my mouth. "Because you smiled back." I open the door and take the first step out into the cold.

"Wait!" I hear him say, but I don't look back.

Before I can step again, a hand is on my shoulder. I finally look back and find the coffee guy inches away. "What's your name?"

I take the first sip of my latte. The bold flavor invades my taste buds and makes me smile. "Tastes good. Maybe I'll stop in again." As I walk away, headed home, I can feel his eyes watching me.

By the time I reached the door to my flat, my anxiety had decided for me that I wouldn't ever go back to The Wicked Bean. I liked this guy, he seemed like the type of guy that I'd be interested in. But, my mind told me that I wasn't ready for anything new since my last boyfriend. My ex-boyfriend, Greg was found in bed with his ex-girlfriend, Cali after I'd gotten off of work one night. It was pretty much the icing on top of the shitty cupcake I call my life.

The wrapper of the cupcake was when my dad was put in jail when I was 9 years old for robbery. I wouldn't say that our family was shit poor, but we were pretty damn poor. My brother and I were picked on for our outdated clothes all the time in school, which isn't hard when you grow up in the richer area of LA. When people found out that our dad went to jail for pinching a liquor store, things got even worse.

The cake part of the cupcake was when my mom started doing drugs and got us evicted after my dad went to jail. The signs of love were prevalent, wouldn't you say? When your mom spends the rent money on dope and coke, you get the gist that things aren't going well. We were evicted when I was 12 and my little brother, Jonah was 7. At first, everything was fine. We went to live with my aunt Mary and uncle Ned.

Leaving LA for Spokane, Washington was probably the best thing for our image considering that no one else knew us in Spokane, and the atmosphere was completely different than of LA's. But when uncle Ned found out that his sister was doing drugs, he called the cops. By then, I had turned 14 and decided to run away from home. Hitchhiking at 14 was probably the scariest thing I had ever tried to do.

The May after I just turned 15 was the best month of my life. After getting rides from some scary, some annoying and some nice people, I ended up in Vancouver. The city was so beautiful that I decided to stay. The first night, I slept in a tree in Stanley Park to avoid getting caught by the police. The last thing I wanted was to get sent back to Spokane to live with Ned and Mary.

The morning after, I woke up with a hell of a neck ache. The sun had just started to creep up on the buildings so I figured it was about 6am. I hopped out of the tree after dropping my luggage like bombs on the ground below. After walking around the park for a while, shivering, I decided that I needed something to eat and a warm place to sit. I searched the city for a coffee shop and settled for a quaint diner that didn't seem like it belonged in the oh-so modern city. As I stepped inside, I was attacked by the bacon and egg smell. I set my luggage into a booth and quietly sat down. Seconds later I was greeted by the over-weight waitress. She was the first nice person I'd seen since I arrived in Vancouver. She had wiry black hair and those glasses that are attached to a string that goes around your neck. She floated to the table and smiled. "What can I getcha to eat, sweetie?"

I shrugged and looked down at the table, shoving my hand in my pocket. I pulled out a dollar and some change. "What can I get for a dollar?"

She smiled again, and this time her expression changed. She smiled with sadness. She clicked her pen and scribbled something down on her notepad. "Be right back."

As I was waiting for her to come back, I flipped my coffee cup right side up, signaling that I was going to be drinking coffee. At least I'd get some caffeine out of the money I had left. For fun, I flipped through the menu, trying to find something other than coffee or toast that was only a dollar. I came up with nothing. Maybe I'd wash dishes to pay off some eggs and bacon...

A few minutes later, the woman, whose name tag said Rita came back with a big plate with sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs and pancakes. She slid the plate in front of me and set down a tiny plastic cup of syrup.

I was completely confused. "I can't pay for this." I said, pushing the plate away.

She smiled that sad smile again and replied. "It's on the house, hun." She sat down across from me in the booth. She looked down at her hands resting on the tabletop and then into my eyes. "Where you from?"

I picked up the fork and began eating my pity breakfast. "Spokane. Before that, LA." I stabbed a blob of egg and shoved it in my mouth, noticing that they tasted different when made with pity.

She smiled. "So, are you here for business or pleasure?" She laughed and grabbed a sausage off of my plate and bit into it.

I weakly smiled. "I ran away from home. I'm sure you figured that out."

She nodded and finished chewing and swallowing before speaking. "I know it's none of my business, but when I saw you, I just knew I had to do something."

I pushed the plate towards her, angry now. "Look lady, I don't need pity, I just want away from liars and drug addicts."

She sat there, staring. Dumbfounded.

I started to grab my stuff to leave when she grabbed my arm. "Where have you been sleeping?"

I released the grip on one of my suitcases, leaning back against the booth with my arms crossed. "The park."

She gasped in horror. "That won't do. Come and stay with me. I've got an extra bedroom."

I chuckled. "Look, Rita, thanks for the offer, but I can manage by myself." I stood up and grabbed my things. After walking out the door of the diner, I wished that I'd said yes. It had started to rain and there wasn't a tree in sight to hide under. I walked a few feet and turned down the alley, where I found a box big enough to flatten and use as a rain shield. For several hours I sat under the shield, getting completely drenched anyway. After folding myself up into a ball, I decided to get some sleep while waiting for the rain to stop. I might as well conserve energy now so when it does stop, I can walk and walk until I can't anymore.

I woke up to someone tapping my shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

My shivering body took time to process where I was. My eyes opened and everything I saw was blurry. When things focused, I saw Rita in front of me, holding an umbrella over me. She must've just gotten off work because she was still wearing the frumpy gray skirt and white button-up as before. "Get your things, you're coming with me."

I didn't care anymore whether she was doing this for pity or not. I was so cold, I just wanted to be somewhere dry. Rita seemed like my chance to finally trust in someone. It was about time.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Rita's place.

I stayed with Rita for almost two years before I had enough money to live on my own comfortably. I still check on her every once and a while, heading to that same diner to say hello. She's more like my mother than my real one was and will ever be. I haven't seen my mom since I left and I don't plan on it. Rita gave me everything I needed, and my mom barely gave me life. Shortly after living with Rita, she got me a job at the diner, where I was a waitress for 6 months, before wanting to do kitchen work. I have to hand it to chef's. Their job is very stressful, (that's probably why most of them smoke) and at first, I wasn't sure if I could cut it. I started out doing dishes, prepping the simple items, and occasionally cooking easy things like grilled cheeses or eggs. As the time went by, I moved up to actually doing line cooking.

More time went by, and I had an epiphany. I really wanted to cook. I loved being in the environment of the kitchen and making food that people came back for every week. But I knew that I could never reach my potential at a small diner, flipping hamburgers for people. I needed to get a real job. I needed to get a job as a chef in a more popular restaurant. At 17 ½, this feat seemed impossible.

For months I went to different places around town and applied, while still working at the diner, making shit money. Finally, I got a call for a position. It wasn't what I had wanted, but they needed a waitress at The GreenHaus. It was a smaller popular restaurant that served mostly vegetarian food, but still had meat on the menu, organic of course.

I decided to take the job and work my way up just like I did at the diner. And after 6 years, I did exactly that. Being 24 and being the most paid chef at a restaurant without a college education is unheard of. I work over people who are old enough to be my parents, who have done more things with their life than I probably ever will. And now that I have a stable job and a stable income, I feel at home in Vancouver, I finally feel home. I found somewhere where I fit in. Somewhere where I can be me.

After hitting my snooze for the fourth time, I finally decide to get out of bed. Last night was the most interesting thing that's happened to me in weeks. It was also the scariest. I seriously considered becoming a nun after the incident with my ex, and now I was falling for a guy I didn't even know. I don't know a thing about him except that he makes a mean latte.

As I take a shower, I let the water cascade down my shoulders to my feet and down the drain to oblivion. Ever since the coffee shop, I've become somewhat optimistic, and it scares me. My whole life has been a train wreck, and now that things are turning out alright, I keep searching the dark corners for the boogeyman that's going to take it all away.

Luke Taylor sat up in bed and turned off his alarm clock. Last night was his band's first big break and they finally got a gig that paid more than $100. Ever since he learned how to play guitar, he knew that he and his friends would start a band and they'd be famous one day. So far, it had happened, except for the famous part. Last night, they played in North Vancouver at a local venue called Twisted Pick. The club manager paid them $600 for the set and after they packed up their instruments, they headed back to a local bar and partied the money away.

The whole time though, all he could think about was her face.

Her.

He still couldn't believe that he had fallen for the girl. He knew it was silly, he didn't even know her name. He knew nothing about her except that she had tattoos, piercings and a wicked sense of humor.

It had been four days since the incident and the only thing he could think about for those four days was her. He had memorized her whole body in those few minutes they were together. She was short and fit with long dark brown hair and the greenest eyes he had ever seen. He had noticed that she had her lip pierced twice, and that was hot. Now, all he needed to know was her name.

As he drove to work-with a sinful hangover and no money in his pocket-he swore he saw her walking more than once, but it was just his imagination. When he finally pulled into the parking lot at work, he had started feeling better. This was the first time in a long time that he had butterflies and maybe it was doing some good. This was the first time ever that he had gotten them about a girl whose name he didn't know.

When 2:30 pm came, Luke had started to settle down. The headache was gone and so was his need for caffeine. He figured that she would come at about the same time she did last time, if at all. Once 2 pm came along, he was prepared to wait until tomorrow. And there was nothing wrong with that, he was ready to get done with work and order chinese, maybe have a band practice and start the day off fresh tomorrow.

It was now 5:59 and he knew the rest of the shift would be really slow. No one really gets coffee after 4 or 5, so it was basically clean-up from now until he punched out. Being the only employee at his coffee shop got a little boring sometimes. But in the spare time, he liked to sit down at one of the tables and tune his guitar, maybe play a song or two for the customers. It kept them coming back, and he got to do what he loved at a job he hated. After all, making coffee for dozens of people a day got monotonous after the first few, and it's usually the same people every day, and after a while, you have nothing to talk about.

Luke had just finished sweeping the floor when the jingling bell on the door signaled someone was coming. He quickly brushed the grounds and other foreign particles into the dust pan and dispensed them into the garbage. When he looked over towards the door, he stopped. His breath caught.

After I got dressed and ate it was time to start another day. Waiting for the stupid bus is the worst thing ever. It's 10am and I have to stand outside in the freezing cold weather and smoke a cigarette, shivering. I chuckle to myself and light my Newport. After finishing it and waiting for another 8 minutes the bus finally got there. I got off at the mall, where I got a few new brushes and canvases. I also bought this really amazing sparkly yellow paint called Sunny Splendor. I guess you could say that my other talent is painting. It's more of an emotional release than an actual hobby. I don't really think I'm that good, but what does that matter when you're doing it so you don't have the temptation to hit people? They're just collecting dust in my closet just like the box of family photos next to them.

After getting off the bus at the same spot I got off four days ago, I stood on the curb for a bit, not knowing if I could walk the short walk to the place. I know I need to get it over with, but somehow I wasn't ready for this moment. At all. If I walk this walk I have to be sure that I won't go running back. I have to take this chance, and hope for the best. What's the worst that could happen?

I guess that this is my chance. I say while looking up at the Wicked Bean sign. My whole body is a nervous ball of energy. I can do this. I can do this. As I step up the small set of concrete steps to the door of the coffee shop, I start to doubt myself. I step back down the steps, swearing to myself. This is so stupid, just walk in and order your coffee and make small talk, it's that easy. I step up the steps again and this time, I grip the handle. I pause for a few seconds, breathing in deeply with my eyes closed. Ok. Let's do this. I open the door and step inside the shop.

Luke stood there motionless, with his mouth open.

She laughed. "Catching flies?"

He snapped out of his stupor, clamping his mouth shut, and laughed, embarrassed. After leaning the broom against the wall and carefully tying his apron on, he glanced at her one more time. "Double tall caramel latte?" He said with a grin on his face.

She slowly sauntered up to the counter and slaps a $5 bill on it. "You're good."

While making the drink, Luke couldn't help but steal glances in her direction, only to find her staring back.

When her drink was done, he added whipped cream to the top and slid it across the counter next to her $2 change.

She smiled and only grabbed the drink, pushing the $2 back across the counter. "Tip."

He laughed and slid it back across the counter. "Tell me your name and you can keep it."

"Bribery, eh?" She sipped the latte and smiled, her eyes closing. "Tastes even better with whipped cream."

He pushes the money closer, not once looking away from her. "I know."

She looks around at the new shop, her eyes wandering across the new local artist paintings, full of color and wonder. She sees glass cases with beautiful and intricate clay pots and blown glass globes and little trinkets. As she looks more, her eyes land on the stairs leading upstairs. She knew there was a second floor, but had never been in the shop long enough to wander upstairs.

Carrying her drink, she walks towards the stairs and slowly ascends them, careful to not spill her coffee.

"Hey, wait." She hears behind her. She finishes climbing the stairs and finds many tables, all vacant. At each table is an intricate glass vase of red roses, each table having a different colored vase. The walls are a bright shade of electric blue with splattered silver paint, mostly covered by more paintings and glass cases with more interesting objects. The windows, all on the left wall have no drapes or blinds to close out the sunny November day, they're just open to the world, the glass pristine. There are no finger smudges or dust to be seen anywhere.

She finds a table closest to the windows and sits down. She sets her coffee down, looking into the foam, watching the miniscule bubbles pop. When she looks up, he is sitting across from her at the table, the $2 to her left. She giggles, "You want to know my name that bad?"

He smiles, casually scratching his chin. "Yup."

She blushes and finally takes the $2. She hesitates, making him sweat. "Rhyly."

He exhales, seeming as if it was the first time he had since she walked in the shop.

After a long, drawn out moment of awkward silence, she slides the $2 across the table again and says, "Yours?"

As if not noticing the money, he replies the same time. "Luke. Not nearly as hot as Rhyly." He chuckles, looking down at the dollar bills.

Hours later, Rhyly and Luke exit the coffee shop together, after Luke closed up. They walk side by side down the street, silent at first.

"So, your tattoo..." Luke says, eying the bright blue and yellow sparrow on her collar bone.

She smiles, looking down at the sidewalk as they walk in unison. "It's for my brother. He died the day after I turned 20."

He clenched his jaw and let out a breath. "I'm sorry."

She sighed, watching the air take her steamy breath away. "Me too. If I hadn't left him there with them, things might have been different. He was only 15 years old. Attempting to drive himself to the store for food because my mom was passed out on the couch or something."

Luke looked away, not knowing what to say at first. "It's not your fault. There was nothing that you could've done to make it better. You couldn't take him with you, he was only 9 years old. And who knows where you'd be if you'd stayed."

"I know, but there's always that voice in the back of my mind, telling me that I could've done this, or should've done that." She whipped around, looking at him directly, stopping dead in her tracks. "And the most fucked up part of it was that she didn't even have the guts to tell me what had happened. My aunt called me a year later, wondering why I hadn't been at the funeral or even called." A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. "And the most fucked up thing about it was that when she put my mom on the phone, she acted like she was still my best friend! That nothing between us had changed since I was like 5 years old!" This time, she didn't try to wipe the tears away.

Instinctually, Luke grabbed Rhyly and took her in his arms, holding her tightly. Rhyly molded to his shape, letting him comfort her while she cried on his jacket.

After a while, Rhyly parted from Luke's warmth. "I'm sorry, I'm never like this." She wiped her tears away and sniffled.

He weakly smiled. "Well from the looks of it, you needed a good cry. And..." He brushes his shoulder. "a shoulder to do it on."

She blushes a little. "I guess I did. I'm just not used to talking about things like this." She starts walking again, slower than before. "I've never said that out loud before, to anyone."

Luke smiled, happy to be trusted enough. "Well, I'm glad you feel comfortable with me to say anything."

She eyed him, waiting for a 'but'. When it didn't come she spoke. "You're practically a stranger to me. It kind of makes no sense, in my mind. But I feel like out of anyone else in my life, no matter how long they've been there, you're the only one that'll be truthful, that won't judge me. That won't make snap decisions on the situation based on my past." She laughed a little. "And I've had quite a colorful past."

He laughed also. Finally getting to his car, they both stop, unsure of what to say.

Luke stuttered, nervous. "W-would you like to..."

She cleared her throat, looking away. "I think I should head home. It's getting late."

Luke watched her nervous eyes drop from his gaze to her fidgeting hands. "I'll just wait for the bus, no biggie."

He walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, waiting for her to get in. "I'm not going to let you stand out in the cold when I can give you a ride right now, get in." He pointed in the open door.

Rhyly bit her lip, trying to make up her mind. As a gust of wind rolled by, she got into the car, folding her arms tighter.

Luke got in on the other side, starting the engine soon. After carefully backing out of the parking space, he drove off. "Where to?"

Rhyly points left. "Down 8th to Grand, take a right."

After moments of silence, Luke spoke. "So, are you free tomorrow night?"

She kept her eyes forward, watching the road pass them by, getting closer and closer to freedom. "I...I don't know. I'm busy."

He watched her as she lied to him. "What's wrong? Why are you freaked out?"

Rhyly glanced at him quickly and then looked back out the windshield. "I'm not, I'm just-"

Luke cut in, angry now. "Stop it! Look," He exhaled, trying to calm himself. "I know you're scared, I can see it in your eyes. And from what you've told me earlier about your life and what's happened to you in the past, I completely understand, but don't do this. I'm not a drunk, I'm not a drug addict, I'm not a liar or a cheater. At least give me a chance." All Luke heard at first was a sniff. No words.

"It's just hard." He heard faintly. "I feel like I already know you but I can't trust you completely yet. I really want this to work, because you're...perfect."

Luke's stomach did flip flops but he sat in silence for a little bit. After getting more directions and ending up at the right stop, he parked the car and they both sat there for a while. "I promise to you that I won't hurt you. I promise it will be ok." Luke cooed. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

Rhyly turned toward Luke and gazed in his colorful eyes. "I hope so." She quickly leans in and kisses him back.

The next morning, Rhyly woke up to the smell of coffee. Not something she normally smells in the morning. She sits up swiftly in bed, remembering her naughty acts of last night. Well, fuck. That was a mistake. She looks toward the other side of the bed, noticing it's empty. If it's a mistake, how come I feel so happy? She grabs the closest article of clothing and puts it on. She steps out into the kitchen area in an old ratty Led Zeppelin nightgown t-shirt about 4 sizes too large.

Luke spins around, hearing the door close. He smiles at Rhyly in the old black band tee and ratty hair. "Looks like someone had a good night."

She pulls her wild thick black hair back in a bun and crosses to the refrigerator, opening it, casually seeing what's inside. "I'm not sure, refresh my memory."

Luke pulls her close and rests his chin on top of her head. "Well, I think there was coffee involved, and some dinner, and a movie, I think an...action movie." They both laugh.

As Rhyly searches for something to eat in the fridge, Luke pours both of them coffee. "So, I have a question..." Luke replies, sounding pensive.

Rhyly closes the fridge, watching him carefully, "What?" her voice slipping.

He holds her coffee out and smiles. "Cream or sugar?"

The next morning, Luke woke up alone. He searched the apartment for her but she was nowhere to be found. Did she seriously ditch me in her own apartment?

Luke decided to make the best of it and just make some coffee and wait around until she came back. After drinking a whole pot of coffee by himself, eating some scrambled eggs and taking a shower Luke got dressed in clean clothes and walked back into the bedroom. Might as well do some chores while she's gone. While making the bed, Luke found an envelope on the nightstand marked with his name. His heart dropped and he slowly sat down on the bed. After taking a few beats to think about what might be in it, he opened it, finding a letter and $2. After chuckling a little to himself, he mouthed the word why. Then he opened the letter, finding only 4 words.

Because you smiled back.

Luke warmly smiled and folded the letter back up, putting it and the $2 in the envelope again. For a few minutes, he sat there thinking about how the past week was a blast and how close he felt to someone who he knows only a little about. I've fallen for a girl named Rhyly. Rhyly Shea Moreau, and she's all mine.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. Luke's head turned in the direction of the door. He calmly got up and walked to the door. Putting his hand on the knob, he peered through the peep-hole.

Black.

After mustering up the courage, Luke turned the knob and opened the door.

Roxii stood there, smiling.

Luke smiled back.