"Mocha Joe's, extra-whipped, non-fat, caramel, with everything on
it!" Katie called over the regular din of Starbucks heaven.
"Thanks," the woman said as she picked up her order, a straw, and several napkins.
A long line snaked through the café out the front door and into the street. Katie had been swamped with customers' demands and was thoroughly exhausted, but tried to develop a rhythm for focus despite the pressure. It was just like playing bass. Forget about the drums and guitar and vocals, and just do your thing.
The Starbucks on Main Street was the most popular of all coffeehouse chains in New York City. Katie had been trying to get a job there for weeks. The quirky, offbeat décor fit her style perfectly, and she was good with the public. Her manager, Talia, gave her a brief summary of what to do before the onslaught of people, but since Katie came late, the tutorial was even more brief than usual.
"Hey! New girl!"
Katie jumped at the sound of Talia's loud voice.
"You've got customers over here, quick slacking!"
Katie breathed heavily and greeted the next customer.
"Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?" she asked, her eyes askance as she fiddled with her apron.
"Hmm...this is my first time here. Can I get a recommendation?"
"Well, everything's really great. This is my first time here, too. I go for the cappuccino usually-"she stopped short as she looked up and locked eyes with him.
"Yeah?" he encouraged.
Katie gave a little start. To say that he was gorgeous was an understatement.
"Yeah...cappuccino's my favorite, but I guess... I don't know, everything's good. Pick randomly and wisely," Katie said, taking in his features with her eyes. Gray-green eyes. Tall. Brown hair slightly messy. Probably plays lacrosse. "I'd say...the Triple Caramel Latté, with a twist? It's pretty good," she offered. He smiled, and that made her happier than she'd been all day.
"OK, sounds good," he agreed.
"That'll be...no, you can have it on the house," she said. She was fairly aware that she was probably glowing and stupid, but it didn't matter.
"What, are you kidding? No way. Here, take a $5," he insisted, holding out the money.
"No, no. It's OK. I've always wanted to say 'it's on the house' anyways," she said, laughing.
"All right, I ruin it," he laughed too. "You sure about it?" he gestured back to the fiver in his hand.
"Definitely. I'll get your order," she said, heading to the back counter.
"What's the order, Wagner?" her co-worker, Benito, called to her.
"Huh?" she said distractedly, still watching the guy. There was no place to sit down, and so he leaned against the glass window. "Um...Triple Caramel Latté...with a twist," she said.
Talia came up from behind her. She laughed. "Unbelievable. The girl meets Prince Charming on her first day. I've been working here, how long? Two years? And I still haven't found mine," she said, her New York accent thick and pronounced. She swatted a hand in front of Katie's face playfully. "Girlie, you're lucky. But don't count them chickens before they're hatched. And get back to work," she said, bumping her plump form into Katie teasingly before heading to the back again.
"Right. Back to work," Katie muttered to herself. She strode up to the counter.
"Hi, welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?"
Freddy made his way from Downing Hall, his casually slung bag over a shoulder, shades on. The day had gotten hotter since morning, and kids were lying all over the campus leisurely as they stretched and ate lunch. Freddy's dorms were just a few blocks away, and he figured he'd drop by to see if anyone wanted to grab some grub off- campus. There was only so much mac n' cheese and strawberry Jell-O one could take.
His fourth floor dorm room was pretty standard, but littered with rock n' roll posters, the obligatory college dorm room trash, CDs, and notebooks filled with drum tabbing and sheet music. Prominently displayed above his bed was a poster-drawing of his four- man band, Dragging the Sky. He was drummer – of course, Joey was leader guitar...
"Hey dude, you getting something from Carver's?"
Lucas Brower, guitar and lead vocals. He had his hands buried in the pocket of his khakis, wearing the same rumpled sports jersey that Freddy saw him in at Birch's.
"Yeah, man, I was just thinking of heading out," Freddy replied, gesturing down the hall towards the exit. Lucas nodded.
"Cool, I'll go get the boys," he said. Freddy pounded his fist, and then walked into his dormitory. It was a mess – not that he cared. Luckily he didn't have to share it with anyone – someone who would get in the way and touch his stuff while he was out. He needed his space, and his parents hadn't thought twice about paying extra to give him his privacy. He dropped his stuff on his unmade bed and changed clothes, exchanging his dirty white button-down and tie from last night for a fresh short-sleeved black one, and gray khaki shorts. On his desk his answering machine blinked red. He pressed the "play" button.
"Hello son, this is your father. Um, it's about 11:35 on Monday, April twelfth. I was just checking in. Your mother wants to know about your plans for spring break. We hope you haven't planned anything, because the Ludgates are having their annual spring party at the Madonna resort on Park Lake again. We promised that you would attend, and, as you may well guess, it would look very bad indeed for my business and our family if you did not make an appearance." At this, Freddy sighed and mentally sent a middle finger in the direction of the answering machine. "Also, I need to talk to you about the amount of money you lost us when you banged the Chevelle at that party. Don't even think about Cancun this year. You're going to spend the break paying off the damages and being with your family, not to mention meeting with Professor O'Neal about that transfer to Manhattan. I don't like you so far away from us where we can't keep an eye on you- "Freddy pressed the button to erase the message, effectively cutting off his father mid-sentence.
This wasn't the first time his dad left an unwanted, fatherly message on his machine, Freddy thought as he muttered curses under his breath. It was same old, same old, nothing new. He'd lose his car, living privileges, college money or all of the above because his father was powerful enough to remove them from his possession, and he'd be forced to return home to Bergen County, New Jersey with his tail between his legs. His parents were always trying to control his life – and most of the time, if they couldn't do that, they found obscure ways to ruin it.
"Hey," Scott Murray said, knocking as he entered. He played bass in Dragging the Sky. His dark hair was slicked back, and he had on some casual evening-ware, keys in his right hand. "Lucas said you were heading out. Carver's?"
"That's what I was thinking," Freddy replied. He bypassed the mirror and simply ran his fingers through his wealth of sandy blond hair.
"Good call," Scott replied. "Hey, you got a message on your machine," he said, gesturing to the still-blinking red light on the answering machine. Freddy turned from his brief self-grooming and pressed the "play" button.
"Hey Jones, it's Zach. Man, haven't seen you in too long. Listen, I hear that Dewey's playing with The Scream some time in the next three weeks, so I figured we have a kind of 'School of Rock reunion'. I know he'd like that. I'm calling the rest of the band to see what they think. And hey, spring break isn't far, so how about meeting up? You know dude, at my uncle's boat-house in Long Island, like last year? How about next Wednesday, if you're not doin' anything. I don't know, call me back. We can jam. Later."
"Who was that?" Scott asked. "Dude? Hey man, what's up?" Freddy had been staring at the answering machine first with a half-smile, and then it slowly dissolved into a focused, pursed-lipped stare.
"What?" Freddy said, breaking away from his thoughts. "Oh," he managed to force out a small smile, "it's my old band, the one I was in all through grade school and part of high school. We haven't all seen each other since senior year ended. I haven't seen Zach in about eight months," Freddy said. His eyes were still glazed over, but lost their earlier hypnosis.
"What is it, man?" Scott asked, confused.
Freddy broke through his thoughts, and shrugged it off. "It's nothing. Just...good times," he said truthfully.
"Cool, ready to go?" Scott began backing out into the hallway.
"Yeah," Freddy responded as he grabbed his keys, and tried to push thoughts of an earlier, younger time out of his mind. With a final glance at the answering machine, he sucked in some air and pressed the button that erased his messages, making Zach's recording a memory.
"Thanks," the woman said as she picked up her order, a straw, and several napkins.
A long line snaked through the café out the front door and into the street. Katie had been swamped with customers' demands and was thoroughly exhausted, but tried to develop a rhythm for focus despite the pressure. It was just like playing bass. Forget about the drums and guitar and vocals, and just do your thing.
The Starbucks on Main Street was the most popular of all coffeehouse chains in New York City. Katie had been trying to get a job there for weeks. The quirky, offbeat décor fit her style perfectly, and she was good with the public. Her manager, Talia, gave her a brief summary of what to do before the onslaught of people, but since Katie came late, the tutorial was even more brief than usual.
"Hey! New girl!"
Katie jumped at the sound of Talia's loud voice.
"You've got customers over here, quick slacking!"
Katie breathed heavily and greeted the next customer.
"Welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?" she asked, her eyes askance as she fiddled with her apron.
"Hmm...this is my first time here. Can I get a recommendation?"
"Well, everything's really great. This is my first time here, too. I go for the cappuccino usually-"she stopped short as she looked up and locked eyes with him.
"Yeah?" he encouraged.
Katie gave a little start. To say that he was gorgeous was an understatement.
"Yeah...cappuccino's my favorite, but I guess... I don't know, everything's good. Pick randomly and wisely," Katie said, taking in his features with her eyes. Gray-green eyes. Tall. Brown hair slightly messy. Probably plays lacrosse. "I'd say...the Triple Caramel Latté, with a twist? It's pretty good," she offered. He smiled, and that made her happier than she'd been all day.
"OK, sounds good," he agreed.
"That'll be...no, you can have it on the house," she said. She was fairly aware that she was probably glowing and stupid, but it didn't matter.
"What, are you kidding? No way. Here, take a $5," he insisted, holding out the money.
"No, no. It's OK. I've always wanted to say 'it's on the house' anyways," she said, laughing.
"All right, I ruin it," he laughed too. "You sure about it?" he gestured back to the fiver in his hand.
"Definitely. I'll get your order," she said, heading to the back counter.
"What's the order, Wagner?" her co-worker, Benito, called to her.
"Huh?" she said distractedly, still watching the guy. There was no place to sit down, and so he leaned against the glass window. "Um...Triple Caramel Latté...with a twist," she said.
Talia came up from behind her. She laughed. "Unbelievable. The girl meets Prince Charming on her first day. I've been working here, how long? Two years? And I still haven't found mine," she said, her New York accent thick and pronounced. She swatted a hand in front of Katie's face playfully. "Girlie, you're lucky. But don't count them chickens before they're hatched. And get back to work," she said, bumping her plump form into Katie teasingly before heading to the back again.
"Right. Back to work," Katie muttered to herself. She strode up to the counter.
"Hi, welcome to Starbucks, how may I help you?"
Freddy made his way from Downing Hall, his casually slung bag over a shoulder, shades on. The day had gotten hotter since morning, and kids were lying all over the campus leisurely as they stretched and ate lunch. Freddy's dorms were just a few blocks away, and he figured he'd drop by to see if anyone wanted to grab some grub off- campus. There was only so much mac n' cheese and strawberry Jell-O one could take.
His fourth floor dorm room was pretty standard, but littered with rock n' roll posters, the obligatory college dorm room trash, CDs, and notebooks filled with drum tabbing and sheet music. Prominently displayed above his bed was a poster-drawing of his four- man band, Dragging the Sky. He was drummer – of course, Joey was leader guitar...
"Hey dude, you getting something from Carver's?"
Lucas Brower, guitar and lead vocals. He had his hands buried in the pocket of his khakis, wearing the same rumpled sports jersey that Freddy saw him in at Birch's.
"Yeah, man, I was just thinking of heading out," Freddy replied, gesturing down the hall towards the exit. Lucas nodded.
"Cool, I'll go get the boys," he said. Freddy pounded his fist, and then walked into his dormitory. It was a mess – not that he cared. Luckily he didn't have to share it with anyone – someone who would get in the way and touch his stuff while he was out. He needed his space, and his parents hadn't thought twice about paying extra to give him his privacy. He dropped his stuff on his unmade bed and changed clothes, exchanging his dirty white button-down and tie from last night for a fresh short-sleeved black one, and gray khaki shorts. On his desk his answering machine blinked red. He pressed the "play" button.
"Hello son, this is your father. Um, it's about 11:35 on Monday, April twelfth. I was just checking in. Your mother wants to know about your plans for spring break. We hope you haven't planned anything, because the Ludgates are having their annual spring party at the Madonna resort on Park Lake again. We promised that you would attend, and, as you may well guess, it would look very bad indeed for my business and our family if you did not make an appearance." At this, Freddy sighed and mentally sent a middle finger in the direction of the answering machine. "Also, I need to talk to you about the amount of money you lost us when you banged the Chevelle at that party. Don't even think about Cancun this year. You're going to spend the break paying off the damages and being with your family, not to mention meeting with Professor O'Neal about that transfer to Manhattan. I don't like you so far away from us where we can't keep an eye on you- "Freddy pressed the button to erase the message, effectively cutting off his father mid-sentence.
This wasn't the first time his dad left an unwanted, fatherly message on his machine, Freddy thought as he muttered curses under his breath. It was same old, same old, nothing new. He'd lose his car, living privileges, college money or all of the above because his father was powerful enough to remove them from his possession, and he'd be forced to return home to Bergen County, New Jersey with his tail between his legs. His parents were always trying to control his life – and most of the time, if they couldn't do that, they found obscure ways to ruin it.
"Hey," Scott Murray said, knocking as he entered. He played bass in Dragging the Sky. His dark hair was slicked back, and he had on some casual evening-ware, keys in his right hand. "Lucas said you were heading out. Carver's?"
"That's what I was thinking," Freddy replied. He bypassed the mirror and simply ran his fingers through his wealth of sandy blond hair.
"Good call," Scott replied. "Hey, you got a message on your machine," he said, gesturing to the still-blinking red light on the answering machine. Freddy turned from his brief self-grooming and pressed the "play" button.
"Hey Jones, it's Zach. Man, haven't seen you in too long. Listen, I hear that Dewey's playing with The Scream some time in the next three weeks, so I figured we have a kind of 'School of Rock reunion'. I know he'd like that. I'm calling the rest of the band to see what they think. And hey, spring break isn't far, so how about meeting up? You know dude, at my uncle's boat-house in Long Island, like last year? How about next Wednesday, if you're not doin' anything. I don't know, call me back. We can jam. Later."
"Who was that?" Scott asked. "Dude? Hey man, what's up?" Freddy had been staring at the answering machine first with a half-smile, and then it slowly dissolved into a focused, pursed-lipped stare.
"What?" Freddy said, breaking away from his thoughts. "Oh," he managed to force out a small smile, "it's my old band, the one I was in all through grade school and part of high school. We haven't all seen each other since senior year ended. I haven't seen Zach in about eight months," Freddy said. His eyes were still glazed over, but lost their earlier hypnosis.
"What is it, man?" Scott asked, confused.
Freddy broke through his thoughts, and shrugged it off. "It's nothing. Just...good times," he said truthfully.
"Cool, ready to go?" Scott began backing out into the hallway.
"Yeah," Freddy responded as he grabbed his keys, and tried to push thoughts of an earlier, younger time out of his mind. With a final glance at the answering machine, he sucked in some air and pressed the button that erased his messages, making Zach's recording a memory.