Flower Girl

07| Tiana

BREWTIFUL DAYS was the one coffee shop in town that had everyone flocking; from flustered mothers with overly-energetic kids to sleep-deprived students hoping for a quick wakeup. It was also a hotspot for young couples looking for a warm place to get away from the icy weather outside as winter slowly rolled in.

It was on one such morning that Nate stumbled in, bell above the door jingling loudly as he laughed, hand in hand with who Calla had dubbed his 'flavour of the week'. Arabella was a shy, polite enough girl from the high school down the road, as many of the less tactful boys at Calla's high school may have referred to as a girl from the "new babe pool".

Petite, with big eyes and chocolate locks that in no way hinted at the fiery temper underneath, Bella, in many ways was very similar to Calla, and was considered quite the 'catch'.

Bella was what people would call a 'classic beauty'; with a lovely laugh and even lovelier face. She was someone who could put anyone at ease by flashing her dimples and sporting rosy cheeks from the cold, as she was to the barista of the day, a girl from Calla's English class, Jane if she remembered correctly, effortlessly charming her.

Calla watched from the tables in the corner where she was serving for the day as Arabella described some nonsensical event to Jane and Nate, arms waving and eyes alight with passion as she spoke. Both Nate and Jane seemed to be in awe, listening avidly and Calla's curiosity brought her closer, empty tray at her side, so she could hear what had captured their attention so strongly,

"-beautiful, like nothing I've ever seen before, and I'd like to think I've seen a lot."

Bella laughed as she'd leaned into Nate and Calla felt a pang in her chest at the action, but had no intention of exploring what it meant.

Calla decided that she'd heard too much and not enough simultaneously, and was slipping quietly behind the counter and into the store room when she was spotted by Jane and called over to 'get this goddamned cake to that idiot with the spoon on his nose at table nine' as she rolled her eyes.

Cursing every deity she knew, Calla turned and made her way to the counter, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact with the three teenagers surrounding it.

She'd made it around the counter, tray in hand; ignoring the heated gaze focused on the side of her head and was moving past Nate when she'd slipped on spilt coffee. Her only thought being my pay check can't cover these plates or that poncy cake, when a hand shot out to grip her arm gently while another went to grab the swiftly tipping tray.

The hands had lingered on her for a few seconds longer, the one moving to her shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze,

"Careful," Nate said, his tone a mixture of concern and something else she couldn't quite place, making her look up and catch the small, cautious smile on his face. A peace offering she thought.

"Thanks," Calla muttered, giving a tight smile before dropping her gaze and walking a bit too quickly to table nine, his stare lingering on her retreating back, as she heard the hushed question of 'who is that?'

She didn't stay in hearing range to hear the answer, fearful of what it might have been.

His eyes had stayed on her the rest of her shift and when Calla went to clear their table she'd found a napkin with the words in Nate's familiar scrawl; don't be depresso, have an expresso, accompanied by a lopsided smiley face and, suddenly, the day didn't seem so cold.

Many more messages proceeded the first in the weeks that followed, ranging from don't give a frapp what other people think to It's a brew-tiful day, smile to thanks a latte, all signed off with the lopsided smiley face that with each message was beginning to look more and more like a lopsided coffee bean, making Calla feel warmer with every note in the winter months.