Starbucks
o-o-o-o
"I require chemical enhancement of epic proportions."
o-o-o-o
Two words: Christmas Shopping.
Already Roxas is pissing in his pants.
Well, he would, if the urine wouldn't freeze into a damn stalagmite by the time it hit the ground.
There's the snow and the santas and the live music emanating from somewhere near the front door. Kairi seems infatuated by it all – though Roxas can not understand why. It's the same blasted place he always ended up losing his money, only now it was decorated. Big whoop. What he wanted was a bed, some heavy duty blankets, and an endless supply of Code Red and pop corn. (And maybe perhaps Kairi, if she'd shut up long enough to let him watch the football game. Don't get the kid wrong, of course he's head over heels for her, almost literally, given the black ice, but there are some things women need to learn not to mess with. ESPN is one of them.)
The parking lot – the whole wide world, actually – seems doused in White Out, snow covering everything, and still pouring from the sky.
"Angel dandruff," Roxas had offered on the ride over.
Two months ago, Kairi would have tried in vain to hide her amusement. But by now, she had no qualms with letting her juvenile sense of humor show, and Roxas finds that he likes it better that way.
"Aren't you excited?" she all but squeals, clutching his ungloved hand. He had originally been wearing two gloves, compliments of the wind chill, but Kairi wordlessly removed one and stuck it in his pocket so she could clutch onto his hand. He didn't complain.
"I'm thankful to be alive," he replies honestly.
Taking his girlfriend shopping was becoming more and more hazardous to his health. He nearly crashed five times on the way to the mall, and he could only anticipate how many more times on the way back. (He could also dimly anticipate all the shopping bags he'd be privileged enough to carry, and actually contemplated lifting some weights in the basement in preparation for their little weekend jaunt – which was slowly becoming more of a habit than a special occasion. Kairi could keep the shopping district eternally funded all on her own. Some days all she did was contribute to the gross national product. She'd probably be awarded a medal in Washington DC for single handedly solving the world's economic crisis all one her lonesome. And maybe she'd mention him, just because. He did almost die for her doing this, after all. Surely some recognition? A little?
"I require chemical enhancement of epic proportions," Roxas informs his companion, who was rosy cheeked and red nosed from the arctic like air. She looked pretty damn cute.
"What…drugs?" she asks. "Roxas. I don't date drug lords."
"I was referring to Starbucks, dummy."
They now had encroached onto the main sidewalk, where Kairi applies both dainty hands to Roxas' ungloved arm so as not to go flying away with the wind chill.
"I thought you didn't like that place."
"I don't. They think they can charge you an arm and a leg for over priced novelty drinks that are more foam than beverage and more beverage than taste."
"…And you want to go there why?"
"Because I know you, and I'll die of exhaustion if I don't caffeinate myself before you start handing me your shopping bags."
"Mom offered to help us."
Ah. Yes. Music to a boyfriend's ears. Let's bring the Mom along. That would totally add to the charm of the backseat. Though it was so frickin' cold out, Roxas may opt out of the backseat this time around anyway. They had all summer to neck. If they tried it in this weather, they may very well stick together. And how awkward that would be.
"I don't do charity," Roxas replies. "I can handle this on my own."
"Except for the coffee aspect."
"That's not charity, darling, that's necessity. Either you let me get my god forsaken cappuccino or you can hitch hike your way home."
Kairi laughs again – and Roxas feels himself swelling with pride, for that's the best reciprocation of all. All of the sudden, he doesn't feel so cold anymore.
When they enter the building, they are greeted with a rush of warm air that nearly knocks Kairi over, seeing as though she really is just a skin bag of organs and bones anyway, and Roxas actually had to steady her at one point because the heating system was so strong.
"Glad you didn't give me your shopping bags now?" he teases.
But all she could say was, "Oh poopie! The door messed up my hair!"
Underappreciated. As usual. Right.
Moving on.
"Ya know, Sora calls this place FiveBucks," Roxas feels compelled to share as they increase in their proximity to the coffee house. The smell of cocoa is already wafting down the hall. It's calling to him, he swears it.
"Why? Because it costs so much?"
"Well…it costs less than taking you out anywhere."
Kairi rolls her saucer eyes and begins to strip off her jacket – which is insane, for Roxas thinks even his romantic induced sweat is trying to form icicles.
His eyes bulge as he is introduced to Kairi's current ensemble.
"It's, like, two degrees out," he reminds her, just incase she somehow magically forgot.
"I know. I do own a thermometer, after all."
"Kairi…" Roxas begins, doing that hiss thing he's ever so notorious for. "You're wearing sleeveless."
"I had a jacket on," she points out.
"And next you'll have pneumonia. Can you put that back on, please?"
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you dead, that's why." Pause. "Also, I don't want to catch anything. You'll probably be contagious."
"Nu-uh, I'm fine," she insists, letting go of his arm long enough to twirl. "It's sweater material, see? Got it from Forever 21."
Ah. Memories.
"You went to Forever 21 without me? Who carried you shopping bags? Heck, who paid for everything?"
"I took Namine out for her birthday." There was a pause. "I kinda kept wishing she was you, though."
Roxas unintentionally starts to beam again.
"Dimples!" Kairi squeaks, pointing emphatically. "Lookie lookie! Oh Roxas, you finally have dimples!"
"What?" he recovers, suddenly ashamed. "No I don't."
Secretly he is thanking ever deity in the heavens for finally bestowing upon him this epic thing that goes by the name of 'dimples.' Now, if only they could grant him some arm muscles, his life would be set.
To change the subject, he mentions the prospect of coffee again.
Shortly thereafter, he returns to his the previous line of inquiry.
"So. Sleeveless sweaters," he begins, this time doing the leading as he drags Kairi to the Starbucks across the hall. "What will they come up with next?"
"I don't see what the big deal is," Kairi pouts, trying to ignore her goose pimpled arms. The great lengths girls go through in the name of vanity and aesthetics is something that has kept many a man up at night.
Roxas eyes her chest playfully. "There is no big deal."
A slap is issued, but it's as mitigated as hell, and even if it wasn't, Roxas sincerely doubts it would actually hurt.
Though if she got a good scratch in with those manicured nails…
"Ya know, maybe I just like to jingle my bells."
At this, Roxas stops walking so abruptly Kairi collides into his backside.
"I don't even have words for that right now."
"You'll find some, I'm sure of it."
He is then given an inspiring pat on the back. "Coffee? Yes?"
"Hold on, wait a minute. We need a moment of silence. My childhood dreams are dying right before my eyes."
"Oh please," Kairi buffs, giving a tug on her boyfriend's jacket. "I killed that a long time ago in the back seat of your mother's Chevy."
Now Roxas is stumbling.
The words. The words never stop coming. And you can never tell what they'll be, either. That's just the way it worked with her. Kairi was like a personified human grab bag. And not in the perverted sense, either. (Though, admittedly, Roxas did let his mind wander there. But only for a second. Or two. Maybe five, tops.) She'd just burst forth with these wild declarations that continuously caught him off guard.
And he loved every second of it.
Predictable girlfriends are boring. You have much more fun with the psychos.
"At least I'm not as bad as Tifa," Kairi points out as they take their place in the line at Starbucks. It is so packed that the cue is trickling out of the store. Apparently Roxas isn't the only one who needed chemical enhancement for the evening. He was thinking about making it a double shot at this rate. But that would cost another appendage, and Sora claimed they owned both his arms and legs as it already were.
And. Well. There is another appendage. But we won't go there.
(Kairi might, though.)
"Tifa?" Roxas repeats. "Oh, Flat Rack Tifa?"
"Is that your attempt at irony?"
"…If I say yes?"
"I'm breaking up with you."
"…And if I say no?"
"…I still may break up with you."
"So…what am I supposed to say?"
Kairi doesn't have an answer for that one, and neither does he. So it's all good.
"See, Tifa doesn't have Jingle Bells," Roxas presses on, when it was much better to have stopped while ahead. Or while he still had a head. "She's more…Bells of Notre Dame, ya know? Big. Epic. Loud."
"…Did you just refer to her chest as epic?"
Roxas contemplates the words that just flew out of his mouth against his consent (and he hasn't even drank anything yet.)
"Um. I dunno. Maybe?"
But instead of slapping him and threatening break up number 176, which is what most girls would be inclined to do, especially after four months of dating, she kind of just smirks and decides to go along with it. There are many bonuses to dating your best friend. This is one of them.
"So, Roxas, tell me, is my chest epic?"
And again with the grab bag.
"Where do you come up with this stuff?"
Kairi merely shrugs.
"No. Really, Kairi. I need to know."
"And I really need to know what word you use to describe my chest to all your gloating buddies."
"I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but it's not epic."
"I kind of already knew that."
"Besides, Riku says anything bigger than a handful is a waste."
The duo was beginning to get strange looks from the other shoppers in line. Especially the mothers with their baby totting children. (And what business does a five year old have in Starbucks, anyhow? We're caffeinating the entire nation, cashing in on the youth of America…or so says Sora when he's had too much of the exact drink he was in the process of complaining about.)
"Um…you've got to let me think about this," Roxas stalls, trying to rake his brain for something witty, yet complimentary, to say.
"Thinking is not your forte, darling. I figured that one out during month one."
Roxas shoots her a gossamer glare, and all she does in response is giggle.
"They…look bigger today." He clears his throat. "Are they, um, growing?"
Oh. Merciful Gods. Awkward.
"Well, I would hope they look bigger today," his girlfriend begins, inspecting herself again. "I got this new water bra thing going on here and – "
"Please don't discuss undergarments in my presence if I don't actually get to see them."
"Oh please. Just go salivate over Gertrude. She's right down the hall."
"…I apologized for that one already!"
"A model, Roxas? You were lusting over a model!"
By now the line had dispersed, though whether it was because of the insane wait to get in or by the line of conversation the couple was carrying on is still uncertain. Roxas thinks he knows which one is the correct answer, but he's enjoying himself too much, so he lets it slide.
"You dragged me in there," he grumbles, inching closer to the counter that housed all of his hopes and dreams in a six inch Styrofoam cup. Right now he wanted it more than anything. Well, almost anything.
Except maybe some evidence of this new water bra thing his girlfriend allegedly had 'going on.'
Then, with a wry smirk adoring his newly dimpled features, he leans in close to Kairi's chest, claiming he can hear her heart beating and maybe she should sit down and check her pulse, when in reality he wasn't the least bit concerned about her blood pressure.
"Roxas, if you think for one minute I am stupid enough to sit down with you lurking over me like some pervert gawking at my cleavage so you can tell all your friends I finally bought a water bra – "
"Don't need to," he interrupts suddenly.
Kairi's eyes ask the question for her.
"I heard the ocean."
"Oh Roxas!" she tries to smack him upside the head, but he skillfully dodges, for he has only been on the receiving end one too many times these past four months, and Kairi wasn't very stealthy as far as her violence was concerned. Now, if he had been dating, say, Yuffie, he'd be flat on his back becoming acquainted with the newly painted ceiling. But Kairi's strength did not lie in her little girlie slaps, of this he was certain.
Still wasn't certain about that water bra, though.
"Think if Starbucks donated half its proceedings to Africa we could save all the starving children in Ethiopia?"
"With what? Coffee? Roxas, ya know, I wasn't kidding about that drug lord thing…"
Roxas scoffs at the mental image.
"Kairi, you're attached to my hip. When could I possibly sell drugs without you noticing?"
"…Good point."
The line lingers on, and Roxas watches with half interest as the baristas fall all over themselves trying to get to the steamed milk without passing out third degree burns as party favors.
"Sora says this place ate his college tuition."
"Does he now?" Kairi prompts, doing that sexy eyebrow thing she falls victim to every time she is unconvinced. Roxas has been half tempted to make up wild stories just to get her to do that eyebrow thing for him, but he daren't tell her this, lest she stop doing it all together. Or worse: refuse to do it ever again unless he bought her whatever it was she currently wanted to buy.
And he'd give in. Of course.
"So what are you getting Sora for Christmas?" Kairi petitions, leaning in closer than necessary, even though she was beating on her boyfriend a mere moment before.
"I was thinking about auctioning you off for charity," he smirks. "Totally for the starving Ethiopians, of course."
"Of course," Kairi repeats. Next came the raised eye brow, and Roxas is floating.
Water bras and coffee. Life is good.
(Though he was more than slightly concerned with the whole pneumonia thing. He really didn't want to see his girlfriend sick. Wasn't top on his Christmas list, at any rate.)
(Though maybe he would finally get the chance to stash away some money…)
Eventually, after what seemed like eons and eons of waiting, and correspondingly aging, their turn at the counter comes up. Roxas feels as though he could have graduated Harvard Law by the time they take his order.
"Give me the strongest thing you've got," he requests with a feigned smile. "If it's legal, I'll buy it. I want triple shots of espresso. Mucho mucho grande tall or whatever the hell it is you guys call your sizes. And then I want another one. And another one after that."
Roxas doesn't quite care if he is making a fool out of himself by ordering like a three brain celled moron. Kairi is bent over at her reedy waist, choking on air as she watches her boyfriend scare every person in the vicinity.
"Oh, and almost forgot: can I take that liquid sugar off your hands?"
"Um…sir," the employee stutters. "The liquid sugar is for the drinks only."
"Now, see, that's where you're wrong. Liquid sugar is a drink, you see. A drink I want to buy, actually, and the customer is always right. So lemme have it. I've got credit."
"Um…I think I may have to check with the manager –"
"What? Why bring the manager into this? It's just me, you, and my liquid sugar. And – oh, lookie, what do I have here?" Roxas procures a fifty from his jacket pocket. "Does the manager really need to know? I mean, Ulysses S. Grant doesn't think so. And I don't think so, either. So why don't you hand that baby over and Mr. Grant is all yours?"
The employee swallows. Hard.
"But everyone can see me…!"
Ah. So he is considering it. Excellent.
Roxas quietly takes out a single and folds it over the fifty he was waving in the man's face. "It's a tip," he explains, nonchalant with every word. (Kairi, on the other hand, doesn't look like she's capable of any. She's still wheezing her way into an epileptic fit.)
"And. Um. For the misses?" the barista questions, trying to discreetly shove the fifty covered single into his pocket.
"Kai?" Roxas calls, secretly pleased he was able to elicit such a response. He felt fifteen feet tall. "Want anything sweetie?"
"…Java…Chip…" she manages to choke out, then continues to retch on air.
"Yeah, and one of those."
"…Size?"
"I don't speak Starbuck-ese, so I'm just gonna have to say: the big one. Ya know, most places just refer to it as large. Why can't you guys do that? I know you use organic coffee beans and all that crap, but really, there's no such thing as organic sizes. Anyway – don't fill it half way up with foam. If I wanted that I could have bought a bottle of whipped cream." Pause. "Okay. We good?"
The employee wordlessly nods.
"Awesome."
"That will be five fifty."
Roxas lets this sink in for a moment. He has to calmly remind himself it wasn't April Fool's, but rather Christmas, and the barista didn't appear to be joking.
"Dude, man, you just spent fifty on your sugar," the nameless man reminds him.
"I'm aware of that, thank you very much. But it was friggin' liquid sugar, not chocolate chip coffee!"
Kairi still hasn't recovered.
Roxas looks over his shoulder and sighs. "Yeah, I guess she's worth it."
The barista looks somewhere between the realm of amused and disgusted, and silently goes to make Kairi's multi million dollar drink, incidentally leaving the bottle of liquid sugar on the counter. Roxas swipes it into his jacket and takes his place at the end of the receiving line, a red faced Kairi in tow.
"You still with me?"
She nods mutely. After five minutes, and much time dedicated to wiping her eyes off on the back of her hands ('bet you wished you had worn sleeves now, don'tchya?') she is able to stand upright and once again has returned to the world of coherency.
She does not stay there long, though.
"I swear, you need to take a second mortgage on the house just to stay hydrated nowadays."
"Roxas, dear, nobody forced you to buy the liquid sugar."
He wants to say, 'well, yeah, kinda, I did it for the lolz.'
But he did it for her lolz, which makes everything justified, right?
"Ya want some?" he offers.
"Maybe we should wait until we get out of the store."
"Ah. Yeah. Right."
After another ten years were dedicated to waiting for Kairi's Java Chip, the two exit hand in hand. They remain like this for approximately five seconds, and that is all Roxas can handle before he is forced to dig into his liquid sugar.
"Organic coffee beans my ass," Roxas hisses, taking a sip of Kairi's drink without asking. They've been sharing water bottles and lolly pops since they were five. Sometimes it felt as though nothing had changed. (Well, except for when they were in the backseat…)
"Not organic," she corrects haughtily. "Orgasmic."
"…That would be the most effective advertisement campaign ever," Roxas concludes. "We should definitely run with that. See where it takes us."
There's a pause as the two return to their respective drinks. But it isn't the awkward pause that seems to always plague new couples on their first dates. It was more an omission of sound as opposed to an uncomfortable silence. And they both kind of like it.
"So where to next, Highness?" Roxas mocks, arm wrapped around her boney (sleeveless) shoulders.
There's a sigh, and Kairi blows her bangs out of her face in preparation for what she is about to say next.
"I don't feel like shopping anywhere, actually."
At this, Roxas almost drops his fifty dollar sugar bottle. He'd have a fun time explaining that one to the maintenance crew.
Kairi blows off his reaction with a listless shrug. "I kinda just want to spend time with you."
Now there's an awkward silence.
"So. Backseat then?"
Kairi nearly coughs up her straw. "Backseat?"
"I am still doubting the existence of this water bra."
Kairi smirks and does the eyebrow thing, and Roxas is sold. Though, admittedly, he was pretty much sold four months ago in that historic run to Forever 21 for new school clothes.
"You had better turn the heater on," she warns, kind of kidding, kind of not.
Okay. Okay. Definitely not.
"You won't need the heater with me in the backseat, babe."
Kairi sighs, rolls her eyes, and mutters something about not being a 'babe.'
But no matter. She latches onto his arm and once again resumes her position as leader as she wordlessly drags him out of the mall and back into the frozen parking lot.
o-o-o-o
Roxas was right. They didn't need the heater.
o-o-o-o
Author's Notes
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Olive, you are beginning to make the authoress question her sanity. Is that good or bad?
And a large assortment of sea salt ice cream goes out to the ever faithful Serena, whose encouraging emails of humor and wit never cease. And for that I am eternally grateful.
Oh, Olive, if you only knew where this story is heading…
(A big shout out to all the readers and reviewers! At this rate, I feel like I owe you guys my first born…)