Food Courting

Chapter 7: Piece of Peace

Day nine of the Coup D'é-Tea

It was after noon by the time Cora's bus arrived at the mall, but she still had plenty of time before her shift started, and she took her time meandering across the parking lot. There was no point in wasting her energy when she wasn't on the clock, and her efforts would definitely be worthless if she was hit by a car before she even donned her apron and flat cap.

That is, until she saw the unmistakable gait of Farron amidst the swarm of shoppers on the pavement surrounding the mall. Her steps were confident and her posture imposing, despite her small stature, as she weaved her way through the inattentive clusters of customers and bulky baby strollers that blocked her path.

She had changed up her outfit slightly—her dark gray crop top was looser than the black shirts she normally wore, and her black skinny jeans were definitely tighter than her typical baggy blue ones. The former also proved where Farron's above average core strength came from, and Cora quickly raised her gaze to see Farron returning her stare as she raked a hand through her short black hair. At least, that's where Cora guessed Farron was looking. It was hard to tell with Farron's tinted, gold-rimmed aviators.

Her guess was quickly confirmed when Farron paused, glanced at the mall door, then turned back to Cora with a smirk.

Cora only waited a second to nod in acceptance before taking off in a sprint, not bothering to see if Farron was running as well. In a controlled race, Cora knew she would easily lose to Farron's athleticism and endurance. But there, with other shoppers in Farron's way and those clunky leather boots weighing down her feet, Cora had a bit of an advantage.

She only slowed slightly when she reached the road, verifying a car or the human-sized Angie the Orange wasn't about to roll by and take her out, before continuing her dash for the doors. Just when she was seconds away from victory, her hopes were crushed by the sight of Farron in her peripheral vision, midriff and all.

Farron had already slowed and was walking calmly through the mall's sliding doors while Cora was still running to catch up. When Cora finally made it inside, breathless, Farron and her smirk were waiting for her.

"Guess you're not as fast as you thought, coffee cake. Maybe your salad sandwich needed more of a kick."

As much as Cora wanted to retort right away, she couldn't, not when she was already struggling to hide her gasps for air.

"It was delicious, actually," she eventually managed to say. "How were your plain slices of cheese and scooping peanut butter straight from the jar?"

"Oh, they were an absolute hit. You should try it sometime."

Cora could only huff in response, too tired to come up with a real comeback, before heading towards the food court first, ignoring Farron's chuckles.

***

The war against the orange was going terribly. While the crowded food court provided Cool Beans with a constant supply of customers, it meant nothing if there was a bottleneck at the registers.

More than once, Cora tried to swap out with Kevin in between his stammered orders. Sure, it wouldn't be the one-on-one blend-off against Farron that she preferred, but a team win would've been almost as satisfying—almost. And Kevin was actually quick with the drink-making. It was the talking to people part that he struggled with.

But every time, Darlene would cut Cora off before they could make the switch, preferring to use the training technique Cora had the misfortune of experiencing eight years prior: hover over Kevin with her cold glare and disgruntled sighs. Apparently, Darlene was hoping he could learn through trial by fire—that, or get fired.