This Love | ✓

Part 8

"Welcome to Java Lava!" Jason greeted me as I approached the café's counter for the second time.

I couldn't tell from the tone of his voice whether or not he identified me from the previous day. But when I looked into his stunning, mismatched eyes, I noticed a spark of recognition.

"Hi, Jason," I smiled, raising my voice to be heard over the din of the crowd.

"Hi, what can I get you today, Leena?" he asked.

The fact that he remembered my name excited me more than I would have liked to admit.

"Two cappuccinos, please," I said, fiddling with the strap of my backpack. A nervous smile edged my lips when I added, "I'll have a blueberry muffin too, thanks."

"Of course," Jason grinned, his long fingers flying over the computer keyboard.

I paid, dropped the change into the tip jar, and walked over to the nearest table. Unlike the day before, the café was buzzing with activity. The air was charged with tension, men and women bustling around, ordering coffees and sandwiches.

As Jason turned to the coffee station that stood behind the glass display, the girl with the jet black hair whose name tag read "Emily" took orders from other customers.

Fascinated, I watched the two baristas shuffle around the counter, reaching over one another, filling cups and paper bags at a hypnotic pace. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, smooth and efficient.

I tapped my short fingernails against the wooden table while I waited. Minutes later, several customers stepped forward to collect their respective orders. Clutching their cups and bags like lifelines, they hurried out of the café, taking the air of pre-coffee grumpiness away with them.

Finally, Jason walked over to my table, a blue tray in hand.

I looked around and realized that I was the only customer left. I couldn't help but wonder if Jason had delayed my order on purpose. The thought left me feeling inexplicably giddy and anxious.

"Sorry it took me so long to fix your order," he said, setting the tray down in front of me.

"That's okay!" I hastened to clarify, unable to look away from his sunny smile.

Suddenly, my anxiety was overpowered by an urge to talk to him. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, wondering what it was about Jason that sparked such unfamiliar curiosity and courage in me.

"Do you, uh, want to sit?" I asked, regretting my request as soon as the words left my mouth.

Surely, employees at the café weren't allowed to sit and eat with the customers?

And what if Jason doesn't want to talk to me?

"Sorry, you don't have to," I interjected. "I'm sure you aren't allowed to, anyway. I just thought . . ."

"Leena, it's okay," Jason smiled indulgently. "You're right, I'm not allowed to, but . . ."

I raised my eyebrows.

"The manager isn't here," he trailed off, a wicked, lopsided grin lifting the corner of his lips.

"What about Emily?" I asked, jerking my head towards his coworker.

She was fiddling with her phone from behind the glass display, earphones plugged in, completely preoccupied.

"Hey, Emily?" Jason called to her.

When she failed to respond, he raised his voice and called her again, but Emily didn't even stir.

"So, she says it's okay," he joked, shrugging.

I laughed and gestured to the chair opposite me, tentatively sipping my coffee as Jason sat down.

"So, Leena, let me introduce myself," he began casually, unwrapping the blueberry muffin with my permission. "I'm Jason Hunter, and I graduated from high school recently. Working here until I can go to college next year. How about you?"

Jason was leaning back in his chair, a curious, friendly smile on his face. His effortless composure was a sharp contrast to my nervousness. I sat at the edge of my seat, my nails pinching little crescent moons into my clenched palms.

"I'm Leena Faye, and I'm from London," I said, accepting my half of the blueberry muffin with gratitude. "Also a high school graduate. I'm on a gap year. I came here to visit my ex-stepmother, Claire."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Leena Faye," he said, leaning forward until our knees almost touched under the table.

"Likewise," I murmured, flustered and excited by his proximity.

On my request, Jason told me more about his job. He explained that he worked the morning shifts between 8:00 AM and 3:00 PM. He talked about some of the regular customers and their quirky habits. My frazzled nerves settled down as I laughed at his stories, content with just listening to him. His deep voice was so captivating that I would've enjoyed listening to him read a grocery list.

As I swallowed the last of my delicious, fluffy muffin, the café's door swung open, the bell announcing the arrival of a young couple.

Jason turned to look at Emily who was still engrossed in her phone. Shaking his head with mock disapproval, he pushed to a stand.

"Sorry, I have to --" he began.

"Don't worry," I interrupted with an assuring smile. "It's okay!"

"Thanks," Jason smiled. Running a hand through his wavy hair, he asked, "Can we continue this conversation another time? Maybe somewhere else?"

Is he asking me out? On a date?

"As friends, of course," he clarified, misunderstanding my hesitation.

Definitely not a date, then.

"I'd love to, Jason," I agreed, my heart hammering inside my chest at the unfamiliarity of the situation.

"Great!" he enthused. He pulled out a sleek, black phone from his jeans pocket and held it out. "Could I have your number, please?"

Trying to contain my excitement, I recited my phone number carefully, making sure that he got it right.

As he said goodbye and turned around to attend to the couple, I grabbed the untouched Styrofoam coffee cup that I had bought for Zach. The now cold container had lost most of its heat during my conversation with Jason.

I walked towards the door, my hand hovering over its handle as I turned around to glance at Jason. He was talking to the couple animatedly, but his eyes were trained on me. I ducked my head to hide my silly grin, forcing myself to exit the café.

Unlike the coffee cup clutched between my fingers, my insides were warm with happiness and anticipation.