Café au Lait (slow updates)

one.

chapter one

Have you ever analyzed things to the degree where you can't really remember the difference between what's real and what you've created in your head? ~ Edie Sedgwick

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Coffee, I’ve always said, is for the weak. It’s for the weak of the mind and the weak of the spirit, those who can’t wake up on their own, so they rely on that extra kick of caffeine. They say they’re not addicted, but I know better- caffeine is a drug just as potent and addictive and one might even say as deadly as nicotine or heroin or morphine.

I’ve always hated coffee and what it stands for, which is why my best friend Myra finds the fact that I work in the only decent coffee shop in our small college town terribly ironic.

It is, but it’s not like I’ll admit it.

“One double espresso for Brenna!” Haley, my co-worker, shouts from her station at the end of the bar. She slides the steaming hot paper cup across the wooden table top, and into the hands of Brenna, a corporate businesswoman who’s here every morning.

I continue counting the till, it’s nine o’clock in the morning, right after the daily rush hour. I already know where the sum will fall, but I continue counting anyways.

“Three hundred eighteen…” I flick another dollar bill to the side. “Three nineteen…”

The smell of freshly roasted coffee infiltrates the small café and I freeze, pivoting towards Haley, whose hand is poised right above the lever on the roasting machine.

“What! I’ll pay for it,” She says defensively.

I cock my eyebrow.

She sighs. “You work in a coffee shop for God’s sake, Talia. You’ve got to get used to the smell of roasting coffee.”

“It’s not that!” I protest. “Don’t you know how bad coffee is for your health?”

“What I don’t understand is why you work in a freaking coffee shop if you don’t even like coffee.” She continues, as if I had never said anything.

I scowl at her and flip her off with my free hand, stuffing the bills in their respective slots and scribbling the final till down on the daily receipt.

“I needed a job, and this was the only place hiring.”

True, and true.

Haley just looks at me and smirks, tapping a slender finger to her chin. “You know, Talia, I bet you secretly love coffee, but your pride gets in the way and you can’t admit it so the only way you see fit to slowly let the secret out is to work at this coffee shop, ragging on your poor co-worker all the time for making a cuppa.”

I stare at her for a few moments, not quite believing what I’ve just heard. Where does she come up with these ideas? And who even says ‘cuppa’ anymore?

“No.” I state flatly, pushing myself off of the counter, where I’d been leaning. I grab the coffee bean bag that Haley had just left open as the freshly roasted coffee pours out into her paper cup. The smell is sharp and bitter, and I scrunch up my nose. I can’t stand the smell of coffee.

Three months working here, and I’m still not used to the smell.

Haley just hums, not saying anything as she sips from her cup of caffeine and imminent death.

Sighing, I glance around the café. It’s small, and one could describe it as rustic and cute, but I’d probably just say cramped and worn-down. The wallpaper has patches missing, the floorboards are scuffed and have a few unidentifiable stains, and some of the chairs are rickety, but for the most part, the café is in good shape for being twenty years old.