Chapter 1: Oh, Maple

The school bell rings and immediately the campus is flooded with college students, some rushing to their next class while others retreat to their cave-like dorms or to the abyss known as the library.

One student in particular, a student by the name of Matthew, rushes over to the newest edition to the college: The Floraison Café. It was heaven-sent. It had been under construction for almost a year and finally its glass doors open today.

Now normally, Matthew wouldn't make a big deal out of coffee, except if it was his favorite, a cup of hot dark roast coffee with maple syrup; however, he recently discovered that a certain someone was hired as a barista.

Her name is Julchen. Or, Jules as her friends would say.

The first time Matthew saw Jules was in the food court at the student center. He was sitting by himself eating a quick snack before his next class when a loud, unadulterated cackle interrupted his poor excuse of a lunch. He looked up.

A girl a couple of tables over was laughing (if you can call that strange hissing sound laughter) along with two other people, one he didn't know but the other he recognized as a guy from his upper division French course.

Matthew was quickly enraptured by her odd laugh, and her odd looks further entranced him: long silver hair that flowed effortlessly like a waterfall, skin as white as snow, and hypnotizing scarlet eyes. Beautiful.

He blushed at his thoughts. He had never had this kind of reaction to anyone in his life.

He quickly returned to his bag of trail mix, afraid that she might notice his staring. He blamed his shy disposition. He was never good at walking up to a complete stranger and striking up a conversation, especially if he was alone.

(Growing up, his brother Alfred would drag him along to his friend's hangouts, and bless his heart, he would introduce Matthew to his buddies. Unfortunately, they would forget who he was or ignore him completely, including his own brother. After many years of this routine, Matthew opted to just stay home and be left to his own devices.)

Since that fateful day, he hovered in the same area every Tuesday around the same time in hopes of catching another glimpse. It seemed like every week she would hang out with her two friends in the exact same spot. Matthew cheered for the regularity. His lunch break was in between two of his classes so he couldn't stay for long, though he was tempted to ditch class. In the end, his grades reigned champion. He wouldn't let his fellow hockey team members down.

As for that French class, Matthew would pay close attention whenever her friend would speak. He learned his name was Francis and was a major flirt. When the professor would ask the students for practice sentences, his examples always included love and romance and borderline suggestive themes. Matthew grew tired of listening to his incessant spiels, until one instance after class, Francis tried flirting with the teacher's assistant. He mentioned his friend Jules was going to start working at the coffee shop and that she would give them discounts.

Of course, Matthew couldn't be completely sure he was talking about the same girl. The only way to find out was to visit the almost open café. He can wait a little while longer.

Floraison opened two weeks later, shortly before the first semester's final exams. It was a good business move in Matthew's opinion, just in time for all the students to hype up on caffeine and pull all-nighters.

He should have known that it would be busy the first day, especially with their opening special: buy one get one half off ("with school ID only" in fine print). He waited in line for thirty minutes. But he was determined.

When he got to the front of the line, he saw her. Jules, he said in his mind. She looked cute in her uniform with the frilly apron around her waist and her hair tied up. Sadly, she also looked stressed out, though it was subtle, but Matthew could tell. He felt a little guilty that he was about to contribute to that. Maybe he can say something to lift her spirits? He rehearsed his order in his head and possible conversation outcomes.

It was his turn. He noticed her forced, customer-service smile, and as soon as she spoke to him, he lost his little confidence.

"Halo. Welcome to Floraison Café. What can I get started for you?"

It wasn't so much what Jules said rather than hearing her voice for the first time. Matthew had faintly heard traces of it during his small lunch break, but now that unique and rough alto-tenor voice was directed at him.

He gathered his bearings fast lest he hold up the long line.

"Umm," Matthew coughed. "Hi. Do you per-perchance have, uh, maple syrup?"

"I'm sorry, what?" She replied quickly.

He backtracked, "I was wondering if you could make coffee and add maple syrup to it? If you have it? It's okay if you don't." He started apologizing.

She smiled at that. A real smile. "If I'm not mistaken, I did see a bottle in the back room. You can wait by the side over there while I fetch it," she said while pointing a little away from the designated corner of the counter where guests wait for their drinks.

"Oh, uh, okay. I'm sorry for troubling you." Matthew fidgets with his glasses.

Jules laughs. "Dude, don't be sorry. This is my job." She grins at him before leaving. Another barista, a grumpy, short man with a strange curl on his head takes over the line.

Matthew takes a deep breath as soon as she's gone. That actually didn't go as bad as he expected. And, she laughed, too. He made her laugh! Or, maybe she was laughing at him? Either way, he couldn't be more elated. He walks over to join the mass of people waiting to hear their name called.

Wait, did she ask him for his name? No, he definitely would have remembered if she had because he would have turned into a bumbling mess. Matthew hopes she recognizes him, but as soon as he thinks it, he is crushed by the realization that he is easily forgettable. Pushing away the negative thoughts, he patiently waits for her return, determination still in place.

He pulls out his cell phone from his pocket to delete spam emails, check his Instagram, open any application with a numerical notification to get rid of it, and so forth. Only taking up a total of five minutes, the phone is placed back into his jeans. With nothing much else to do, Matthew studies the interior and the people inside the café.

Most of the crowd is gone by the time Jules finishes his drink, guessing that the next round of classes started. He hadn't noticed how much time had passed. Some would have complained about the long wait, but for Matthew, waiting for her was nothing. He could wait all day just to talk to her again.

"Hey, you. I apologize for the wait. Here's your maple coffee all ready to go," Jules announces as she hands him the hot drink.

"Thank you so much," Matthew replies earnestly, face lit up.

"Wow, you have a beautiful smile."

His eyes widen and he instantly blushes mad. He unconsciously tries to cover his mouth with his free hand. "W-w-wha?"

"I'm serious. What's your name by the way?"

"I'm Matthew."

"My name is Julchen if you didn't see my nametag, but my friends call me Jules. Is it okay if I call you Mattie? I can come up with a better nickname later."

"Yeah, yeah, Mattie is great. You can call me anything honestly." He covered his mouth. Why the hell did I say that?

She laughed, "Really? Maybe I should come up with something silly then."

An irritated voice interrupted their conversation, "Hey, Potato! We've got customers waiting."

"One minute," she yells back at her coworker. "Ugh, I should probably go before he dies of an aneurysm. I'll see you later."

"Wait," Matthew stops her. "I just realized that I never paid for my drink."

"Don't worry about it. It's on the house," she finished with a wink then ran back to her post. In the last second, she turned around and waved at Matthew, "Make sure you stop by often."

He waved back and nodded, internally asking his wallet for forgiveness. He looked at his phone for the time and realized he was running late for class.