Created from the prompt "Max is a Barista at Mr Jeffersons favourite coffee shop!"
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She hadn't known this was his favorite coffee shop. Had she known, perhaps she'd have tried to secure a job here sooner. Perhaps then, there would have been more opportunities to talk with him. Not about school, not about what sorts of 'teen mischief' Max was getting up to—they could just talk. The best part about it was that inside this little café, they were away from one of very few people Max truly despised on campus—Victoria Chase. She remembered the first time he'd walked in—it had been her first day on the job, and she certainly hadn't expected him to be her first customer for the day. The way his face had lit up at the sight of her though, the way his mouth had turned up in a cool grin the way it always did when she did or said something in class that appeared to impress him—it had made her heart flutter just a little faster, made her unable to keep a firm grip on the coffee mug gripped between cold and clammy hands as she stumbled along her way. Although, perhaps it had just been the sight of coffee that had made him smile that way. Perhaps.
A girl could dream though, couldn't she?
"So I had no idea you worked here." He was leant against the counter, body angled in her direction as she worked her way around the coffee machine, rocking back and forth nervously on her heels as she waited for the water to heat. It had been particularly chilly the night before, and the girl's boss had explained a little while ago the troubles they had been having with the pipes. Darn it, couldn't this thing heat any faster?
Licking her lips briskly she stole a glance his way, cheeks warming as she saw that he was still looking at her, completely oblivious to the gazes the other barista on shift was giving him—or the stares of other young female patrons from their tables behind him. It was still only early morning, and a Saturday no less—yet the place had already started to fill up. Though she had only just started her shift ten minutes ago, the brunette had spent the past hour or so in the back with her boss—a prickly old woman of whom she was fairly certain had been her neighbor once upon a time, long, long ago.
"I-I only just started today," she stammered, mentally slapping herself for sounding so flustered. First day on the job and she was already stumbling around stuttering like a buffoon. Kudos, Max. Kudos.
"Well then I'm afraid you'll be seeing a lot more of me than most would usually would like to," he laughed, and the sound nearly made Max drop the takeaway cup she'd only just picked up off the stack. Christ, she was a mess.
"I don't really mind."
At this his laughter died off, a strange look washing over his expression. His eyes narrowed from behind his glasses, mouth turning down just slightly to form a grimace of sorts, a single brow lifting as he stared. A moment later though and it was gone, the good-natured smile returning almost as quickly as it had disappeared. Wondering if she had said something wrong Max turned her back to him, filling his cup and giving it a quick stir through, before securing the lid tightly. Carefully, she lifted it up and over on to the counter, his hand reaching out to take the coffee before she could place it down. At the slight brush of their fingertips her initial reaction would have been to flinch away and proceed to starfish herself against the far wall, though with the thought of being fired on the spot at the very front of her conscious, Max simply let his fingers slip over her own, clamping down firmly round the takeaway cardboard, before pulling away, leaving her hand to dangle mid-air awkwardly for the next half second before she recovered, arm dropping limp to her side.
"Be seeing you in class on Monday."
Fists clenching, she nodded curtly.
"Yeah."
Over the expanse of the following week Max worked four further shifts—Mr. Jefferson turning up on three of those four occasions. She had also found out shortly after the shift he had not turned up during that the man had been caught up in a teachers board meeting, and Max couldn't tell if this knowledge confused or relieved her.
As the bell rang to signal the last period for the day being officially over, Max packed her things up and swung her bag over her shoulder, about to leave the photography classroom before a familiar voice called out to her. Mr. Jefferson stood aside his desk, eying her with that ever-present smile on his face, welcoming her to come over and join him. Victoria, having heard him call to her of course, scrunched up her nose and sneered none-too nicely as she stormed past the short-haired brunette, knocking their shoulders in her wake. Rubbing her arm absentmindedly, Max moved to Jefferson's desk. He waited until the rest of the class had filed out before speaking, and Max sent a smile Kate's way as the soft-spoken girl walked out the door, ultimately leaving the duo alone in the classroom.
"Are you working today?"
The question took her a little off guard, and Max swallowed uncertainly as she stared him down.
"Yeah I'm closing up shop. Why?"
"Bring all the photographs you've taken over the past few weeks so I can look them over, okay?"
"B-but—"
"No but's, Max. You know the Everyday Heroes Contest is coming up soon, and I've received an entry from practically everyone but yourself. If you're not planning on entering anything yet, let me see that at the least you've tried to take something suitable?"
Realizing she had little choice in the matter Max didn't argue with him any further, knowing she could not win against the man when he set his mind on something like this. He was pushy, but she knew he only did it because he cared about his students and wanted each of them to perform as best they could throughout the year—especially when it came to rare one-off opportunities like this.
Shoulders slumping in defeat she nodded, and the smile he gave almost made the situation she'd been thrust in to bearable. Almost.
"Good girl."
Walking in to the café an hour later, Max was unsurprised to see her teacher sitting at a single table situated closest to the front counter, coffee already at hand, and with a pause headed over to him, digging in to her satchel to grab out anything she could find that she'd taken as of lately. She placed the small pile down in front of him, folding her arms across her chest huffily. Lowering his cup the man began to spread the photographs out across the desk, glancing up at her a few moments later.
"Thank you. You can start working now."
Her jaw slackened a little.
"You're not the boss of me here," and after a second she off-handedly added a "sir" to her sentence in fear of offending him.
His chuckling proved her fears trivial however, and he waved her off dismissively.
"No I'm not, Miss Caulfield, but she is."
Folded arms dropping to her sides, Max turned to see her boss staring their way, glancing up to the clock hanging overhead on the wall before looking back to Max once more.
"Shit I better go," Max muttered, not giving her still laughing teacher a second glance as she rushed behind the counter, snatching up her apron to begin work for the afternoon. Stealing glances here and there in her teacher's direction between serving customers and preparing warm beverages, Max couldn't help the light blush that dusted her cheeks and nose at the way he looked avidly through her work, taking his sweet time in examining each and every photography closely, carefully, holding up two at a time now and then to compare before moving on to the next. Though flattered the man was taking so much time and effort to evaluate her photographic-finesse, Max still couldn't stop herself from feeling totally flustered and embarrassed. She didn't usually like to show her work to others—most of the shots she took meant for her eyes and her eyes alone. Allowing the man to look through them like this meant that she was letting him see parts of her she liked to keep to herself, and quite honestly this realization terrified her.
She felt vulnerable.
A few hours and several dozen coffee brews later, the girl was finally given the okay to start closing up.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning," her boss waved over her shoulder as she left, not bothering with the man that still sat by the counter, photographs spread here and there across his small square table.
Turning the sign at the front door over to closed, Max spared Jefferson a quick glance before heading out back to remove her apron, brushing herself off as she rolled her shoulders a little tiredly. Grabbing a water from the office freezer the brunette headed back out in to the café, about to address her teacher before noticing his absence.
Frowning, Max instantly moved round the counter to stand at the table he had sat at just minutes before, noting that her work had been restacked and secured firmly with an elastic band. Had he left? Snuck out while she'd been in the office?
She then spotted his glasses folded neatly off to the corner of the table, and exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. So he was still here. In the bathroom maybe?
Stealing a glance toward the restrooms, Max stifled her laughter as she snatched up the glasses off the table, unfolding the arms to examine them more closely. Though simple in design she could instantly tell that the pair were not cheap, and against her better judgment, slipped them on over her ears. They fit nicely, only slightly on the large side, and the brunette smiled a little giddily to herself. Rummaging through her bag she quickly drew from it her camera, holding the object up to snap a photo of herself for later observation, excited to find out how it turned out. She didn't even know how she looked in his glasses—for all she knew she probably looked terrible. Although…
"There you go again Max, taking another selfie."
Whipping around to face the man who had spoken just now Max stumbled, catching herself on the table behind as the imminent blush crept its way on to her face hotly.
"M-Mr. Jefferson! U-um…"
His grin widened as he stared back at her, a laugh escaping between upturned lips.
"Are those my glasses you're wearing?"
"…I'm sorry…"
Max noticed the onceover he gave her, the way his de-spectacled eyes searched her face for something—just what exactly was he looking for? She had never seen the man without his glasses, and even now her sight was slightly hindered by the minor fuzziness the prescription caused around the edges of her vision.
"Don't be," he shook his head, taking a step toward the girl, hands reaching up as he hooked a single finger beneath each arm, removing the glasses from her face at a painfully slow pace. They were back on his own face in an instant, any chance to really get to see his face without now gone. "In fact, they rather suited you."
The warmth in her cheeks glowing even hotter Max averted her gaze, unable to look the man in the eye after he had given her what seemed to be a compliment.
There were a few moments then where everything was silent, neither one of them speaking to fill the quiet, Max staring away out the windows, refusing to look back at him.
When he spoke again, his voice was coarser than before.
"So I was looking through your shots," he began softly, and Max braced to hear his final verdict, her body terse as she waited to hear what he had to say. "And quite honestly, I don't see why you haven't entered anything as of yet. Your work is gorgeous."
Opening eyes she hadn't realized she'd shut, Max blinked slowly, turning back to look up at him. His smile was genuine, and the muscles that had stiffened through her whole body began to relax. Feeling as though a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders the brunette sighed, feeling unexplainably relieved somehow.
"You really think so?"
"Would I lie to you? Have a little more faith in your teacher," and with a pause, "and yourself. The doubt you have in your mind is the only thing keeping you from the greatness you could achieve, Max. Don't beat yourself up so much. There's nothing stopping you from realizing your goals—you just have to let yourself reach out for them. Don't be afraid to take risks when you need to."
"O-okay…"
"However."
And here it was. Glancing back at him Max waited uncertainly, wondering what it was he had to say now. Of course there was a 'but'. There always was.
"As your teacher I feel its my job to push you, to help you realize what you truly desire. And with that in mind."
Max inhaled sharply as he closed much of the space between them, gripping the edge of the table pressing in to her thighs so tight her knuckles whitened. She stood frozen in place as the man leaned in to her, his body just inches from her own as arms made their way around her body, fingers brushing down her lower back as he felt for something behind her. Max couldn't help the small breathy whimper that escaped her lips as his head ducked down a little to press beneath her hair and to her neck, his nose and mouth buried in the crook of her collar, breath hot against her skin as he exhaled.
All too soon his body had disappeared from over her own, the heat she felt ebbing away as he stood back, his smile light, innocent.
"I'll be taking this for now."
Eyes widening, Max noticed the undeveloped photo the man waved between his forefinger and thumb, jaw slackening as she realized what it was he had been aiming for the whole time.
"Y-you can't take that!"
"But I can." He was having way too much fun with this, and the dizziness Max felt slowly morphed to anger, her embarrassment blatantly clear to see on her face. "If I deem something inappropriate, as your teacher it is my duty to confiscate it and protect my students."
"B-but—"
"Max," he waggled a finger at her, his grin widening. She wanted to punch him in the face. "No but's. Maybe if you're a good girl and you enter a photo for the contest, I might just think about giving this back to you."
Folding her arms across her chest, Max stared needles at the man.
"And what if I wanted to enter that photo?"
He chuckled lightly.
"I'm afraid I couldn't allow that."
"And why not?"
"You know why, Max."
A hand thrust in to the pocket of his finely pressed suit-pants, Max could only watch on as her teacher sauntered his way out the café door, pausing at the tinkle it made to glance back at her over his shoulder.
"Enter a photo, Max. That's all I'm asking. Do that, and the photo is yours. Otherwise I'll have to keep it for myself."
Before she could even open her mouth to protest the door had shut, and he was gone—disappearing down the sidewalk and away from the café.
Rooted to the spot, Max struggled to get the gears of her brain going, failing to move the cogs that allowed her to think rationally. And then it hit her.
"That hipster bastard is blackmailing me!"
Gritting her teeth Max snatched up her camera, shoving everything in her bag before storming out of the store, backtracking to lock it after she realized she hadn't.
"I'll show him an entry," she muttered to herself as she stormed down the sidewalk, oblivious to the sleek black-grey car that sat across the other side of the road, of the man inside that watched her as she walked off headed for home. "I'll wipe the grin off his silly hipster face, just you watch!"
The man smiled to himself as he watched her go, the photo he had snuck from her on the sly still in his hand.
You should have entered a photo, Max.