Stuck on the puzzle

Coffee, books and tears

Of course, the "my life is not interesting" cliche is, unfortunately, defining for my overall situation. I am almost 16. My name is Phoebe. I love reading(reading is my first love). I love foreign languages, of which I can only speak four. I really like music, but not the music-saved-me-from-dying kind of love. Highschool represents 80% of my time(don't imagine I am in some kind of learning prison- it's a normal highschool- but i go to contests which, of course, require a lot of extra work with teachers and a lot of studying and devotion). In the 20% remaining time I am either at my flat or at Fifi's Lovely Apron, my favourite cafe in the world. I know the name is pretty disappointing(it explains the lack of customers) but the coffee is heaven. I can say that Starbucks should kneel in front of Fifi's. However, Fifi's Lovely Apron is more like Fifi's Lonely Apron. That's why I am always there. It is very quiet and deserted. The music always plays softly in the background and there is this nice lady, also the owner of the place, who brings me my coffee everyday, who saves the two-person table in the back by the window for me. Her name is Thalia and she is a widow. I can say that for a widow, she isn't much of a mourner. Her smiles prove it. Anyway, we don't talk much, except for my order which repeats everyday, endlessly:

"A big cup, half hot chocolate, half coffee, cream, maple syrup, chocolate syrup and loads of cinammon, Thalia. All good around, huh?"

"Sure, Phoebe, sure. How 'bout you? Homework or books today?"

"Books."

"Vanilla with all that?" she would say rum syrup if I answered with 'homework'.

"Of course. Could you please put it in that crying giraffe cup? I feel like seeing it today.."

"Sure."

"Thankies."

She is the only person who breaks my heart everyday. She is 35. Her husband died at 29 in a car accident. They had met at college and got married against her parents' will. She was 25 when she got married. Pregnant when he died. His name was Luke.

I moved far from Sheffield, my home town, to go to this highschool(said to be the best of our surroundings). I broke my family's heart with my decision but they appreciated my will of evolving. I call my parents everyday and we chat on Skype a lot in the weekends. I go home on holidays, but this year I am involved in a project during the summer, so I have to stay here. I am rather independent and confident, but I don't talk much. I don't have too many friends here, but I used to have quite a few back in Sheffield. We don't talk anymore.

***

"How are you today, Phoebe, sweetheart?"asks Thalia as she sees me entering the door. It is a nice winter day. That kind of sunny winter day that makes you feel spring has come. School started again last week, so I am still pretty free. Teachers are quite bored themseleves. My first visit this year at Fifi's.

"Hey there, Thalia! Happy New Year, I guess. Umm well, all's good. Been with my folks back in Sheffield, you know. Family time.." I said, feeling a blush raising in my cold cheeks.

"Haha, I know how you feel. You couldn't wait for school to start again and come back here, right? They had assaulted you, I bet."

"Kinda. It was worth it, anyway.. I missed them."

"Sure you did. Well, what's for today?"

I sat down in my ever-so-comfortable mahogany chair and glanced out the window. The slippery road was clean, in spite of the melting snow that invaded it. Old women, holding old men's hands were easily stepping on the pavement, as if time was passing slowlier for them, as if the world was holding them on top of this galaxy, making a path through time and space so that they got safe on the other side of the universe. The view from the afternoon was precious. Some may say it was nothing- for a few pairs of old people is not so inspiring. For me, they were nice. They are, for me, the definition of forever. And forever isn't for everyone.

"Yeah, yeah, the usual. I will just reread The Catcher in the Rye, ya know." That was my favorite book. My favorite, my supreme favorite. Even though I loved many books, THIS ONE was my favorite. I carry it around everywhere I go. I am sort of a freak with it. I made everyone read it, including Thalia.

Some familiar voice started singing in the background: Do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you're there, or somebody's goodnight kisses... Got that covered? I fastly open up shazam and find out the singer. Arctic Monkeys. Whaaaaat. They're, like, a band?! Cool, new subject of obsessing over. The song is Love is a Laserquest. Wow, sounds sentimental. Now I realise that their music plays a lot around here. The lead singer has this either sweet or harsh tone that I much prefer. I google the guys. Oh, well, and the lead singer, Alex Turner, is from Sheffield. Now, applause for me. I share my hometown with this cool celebrity. As I wait for my coffee, I see that this band is quite a big deal around here, even if they're around 18 years old each. I've found hundreds of fans' blogs(mostly, girls, to my utter disgust) who would die to meet Alex Turner(and, as I've read on a blog: "Turner? More like Alex turning me on"). Indeed, that boy is hot. He is hot, why lie. But too many celebrities you are never gonna meet or be friends or lovers with are hot, so why even bother. Anyway, they've become my favorites. They have deep lyrics(to my surprise, composed exclusively by Alex)which sound like poetry and cigarettes(don't ask, that's what I think of everytime I hear them sing-him, actually). The instrumental part is very well planned, so I whole-heartedly appreciate them. Plus, they don't sing only rock. They got jazz too, so I can do my homework either peacefully or energetically.

"Thalia... Why does this band always play here?" I ask her as she gracefully puts my cup on the table.

"Oh, ya mean Arctic Monkeys? I don't even know who they are or how they look like and I don't care. They sing the kind of music Luke used to listen to. He loved jazz and rock. He loved alternative. Don't you like it? I can put some more popular stuff if you want. What's that guy's name... David Guetta? Or even Hannah Montana?"

"Miley Cyrus, you mean... No, don't change it, I like it. Anything else would ruin the whole thing. I'm not into this popular, new music that much."

I just reread my book there, in the back corner of the cafe, watching the old men's and women's days roll by as the Rolling Stones probably would, noticing the happy faces of the children playing carelessly in the wet street, sipping occasionally of my coffee, thinking about the new episode of "The Good Wife" I will be watching in less than three hours and how I will skype about it with my mom. We used to watch that TV show together before I came here, but now we're just skyping about it. It's sad. It's sad how things have to change in order to get better. And in the beginning, it seems like nothing got any better. The small things that had to change hurt the most. My room, my pets, my friends even... The view of the park from my kitchen window, my mom's tea, my dad's retarded jokes, their little husband and wife arguments, the tulips in my garden, the apples in the tree. I didn't even use to care about them. I guess they are right when they say you don't realise what you have until you lose it. It seems I didn't lose anything, because my house is still there and my family still loves me. Nobody really understands why I sometimes feel so miserable about not being there with my folks. Everyone says I should have fun, because I am a teenager and I am living all alone, programming my own life. It's not like it, in fact. I am not that kind of person. I do miss things. I still hope it's the beginning, when things don't seem to be any better than before.