PHYLICIA
My alarm went off at 5:45, right on time.
I didn't hit snooze. I never do.
Willie lifted his head from the foot of the bed the moment the radio clicked on. Soft jazz filled the room while I sat up slowly, letting my feet touch the floor, giving myself a moment before the day started asking things of me.
Routine keeps me steady.
Bathroom. Shower. Steam, quiet, and thirty uninterrupted minutes to think through the day ahead lesson plans, rehearsal notes for theatre, and the uncomfortable reality that Ahmad was now back in the building.
I dressed simply but intentionally: pressed brown skirt, a fitted orange blouse. Hair neat. Minimal makeup paired with a red lip. Clean, controlled. The way I liked to move through the world.
By 6:30, Willie was fed and walked, and I was standing in my kitchen staring at the coffee maker.
I didn't want it.
Not the taste. Not the smell. Not the routine of it.
I grabbed my keys instead.
"Guess what" I told Willie. "We're changing the plan today."
He wagged his tail like he approved.
Earl's hot brew coffee shop sat three blocks from the school, it was small, local, quiet. Ran by a older black man. Teachers came through sometimes, but early enough, it was mostly regulars and construction workers grabbing something quick.
The bell above the door chimed as I walked in.
Warm air. Fresh coffee. Low conversation. The smell alone made the decision worth it.
I stepped into line, already knowing what I wanted.
"Large coffee, black, light sugar" I said when it was my turn.
"Coming right up pretty lady." Mr. Earl said.
I smiled warmly.
While I waited, I moved toward the pickup counter, pulling a few bills from my wallet.
That's when the door chimed again.
I didn't turn at first.
But something, voice, energy, I wasn't sure, made me glance toward the entrance.
Angela.
She stepped inside, scanning the room, her hair slightly damp like she'd rushed out after a shower. No blazer yet, just a soft sweater and a bag slung over her shoulder.
She looked up.
Our eyes met.
Her face lit up immediately.
"Well good morning," she said as she walked over, smiling like she was genuinely happy to see me.
I felt it before I could stop it.
The small shift in my chest.
"Good morning, Ms. Bassett," I replied.
She laughed. "Are we back to being formal today?"
"Only in public," I said calmly.
That made her smile wider.
"I didn't know you came here," she said, stepping up beside me.
"I don't," I answered. "I didn't feel like making coffee at home."
"Same," she said. "I tried. It tasted like disappointment."
I glanced at her. "That's usually user error."
She nudged my arm lightly. "See, this is why people think you're mean."
