College Ruled

six

| 06 |
_______________

ONE OF my favorite places on campus is the coffee shop. Right when the sun dips low enough on the horizon to sprinkle molten gold and crisp orange hues over the quad, there's a peaceful hum that rises over the cracked bricked walls and velvet, thrifted furniture of The Java Joint.

The constant caffeinated craze breaks off for the rest of the day into smaller waves of espresso zombies who ram their way through the glass doors to push pocket money over the counter or swipe their meal plan cards in honor of another sugary, bitter brew. They're the ones that think they run the café, but really they're the holes in the calm, calculated ship.

They're the chirping laughter that washes right over the hushed whispers drifting from the far side of the wall where the overflowing, unorganized bookshelf sits. They're the chilled air that whips past the crackling corner fireplace every time the doors chime open, the bouncing energy that crashes through everyone's seated concentration.

The peaceful hum holds its breath until they leave.

But I love every second of it—the lighting that's low enough to be relaxing without straining your reading eyes, the quiet jazz that you almost forget is even there, the smell of coffee that powers through every stressed breath.

Because even though I hate the taste of coffee, the nervous prickle of my skin that comes from too much caffeine, I never hate being here.

Except for today.

Because today, I'm behind the counter.

And instead of taking advantage of the focused buzz flying around the room, I'm staring at the cracked screen of my phone, skimming over the multiple emails I've gotten over the past two days from the ex I thought I didn't have to deal with anymore.

To: remclarke@my.wsu.edu

From: thedrake@my.wsu.edu

Subject: Hey

Emmy,
I never know how to start these things... Emails, apologies, whatever you wanna call this. But you blocked my number, so here I am.
It's been enough time to move on. I know that. And I thought I had, I swear, but here I am. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since seeing you. And I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but I saw the anger in your eyes. I know there's still something there for you too.
We planned a life together once. Do you remember it? Careers, a family, a future. I know I fucked up but I still want it for us. I'm still planning for that. And I'm going to prove that I mean it.
You'll see.

Love,
Theo

To: remclarke@my.wsu.edu

From: thedrake@my.wsu.edu

Subject: hey ... again

please talk to me emmy.

Sent from my iPhone.

To: remclarke@my.wsu.edu

From: thedrake@my.wsu.edu

Subject: tutoring ??

Sup Frankie, Coach Day told me to reach out in hopes of boosting up my grade a bit in Women's Studies. Obviously I'm shit at it and your not, so Day gave me your email. Said you'd be interested. I have practice from 3-5 but I'm free after...