365 Cups of Coffee

Twenty-One: Java Frappe

    I’ve made it through my first few weeks of school, and, somehow, I’m holding all A’s in my classes.  I guess I’m just working through it like I always do, and honestly, every time I go do my homework, I end up feeling numb.  So maybe it’s a good thing that on the second week since I’ve been back to school, there’s an open mic night at Higher Grounds, and I’ve convinced Daniel to sing.  I also found out, at some point during my morning coffee stop, that Ryan is playing guitar during the open mic, too.  He told me while topping off my Tuesday coffee: the raspberry truffle latte, medium.  I’ve taken to ordering the same type of coffee for each day of the week, and then experimenting on weekends. 

    I meet Daniel outside the shop.  The distance between us doesn’t seem like much anymore, which is funny to me, because in Georgia, I was used to never having to leave the city to do anything, apart from going to the beach, but here, you have to drive twenty minutes just to get to a mall.  Now, a twenty minute drive seems like nothing.  He greets me warmly, pulls me into a hug, bows slightly, and then holds my hand as we walk into the coffee shop.  It’s endearing and adorable, and I can’t help but blush.

    I walk up to the counter, and this time, it’s not Ryan working it, but a different girl, one that sometimes serves me when I come during the afternoon.  “Java frappe, please,” I order, doing a quick scan of the menu, even though I already knew what I wanted to try. 

    “Make it a large,” Daniel adds.  “Two straws.”

    “Stop being a hopeless romantic,” I breathe, but he laughs.

    “I’m not hopeless.  I have you.”

    Even though I’m the one with the way with words, his statement still manages to take my breath away.  We don’t often express these types of feelings out loud, although I write about them, secretly.  I have a whole notebook I have begun to fill with little anecdotes about Daniel, something I can read over when I get to a bad place in school, or when I need a pick-me-up.  It’s a secret. 

    “Thank you,” I whisper to Daniel.  “Thank you for being here.  If it wasn’t for you, I might still be in the same place I was when I left Georgia.  I don’t think it was the change in setting at all that helped.  I think it was meeting you.”  I squeeze his hand, and he looks at me, surprised at the sudden display of affection.

    He kisses me on the cheek quickly as we wait in line to get coffee, and I look around at the shop.  A little platform has been set up as a stage, with a few scattered chairs and mics.  The regular couches and seats in the lounge portion of the coffee shop have been turned to face the stage.  Ryan it already sitting on a black leather couch, guitar lying beside him.  He’s stretched out, watching the others come on.  I catch his eye, and he taps the spot next to him, but I gesture to the counter.  Once we receive our drink, we walk over and sit down next to Ryan.  We immediately start drinking the coffee.

    “PDA alert!” Ryan jokes.  “You can only share coffee if it’s my coffee!”

    “Then get up there and make us one,” I joke.  “Slacker.”

    “Excuse me, playing guitar is a totally valid career option.  More valid than working here forever.”

    “You’re gonna be a music teacher, not a famous guitar player,” I laugh.

    He rolls his eyes.  “Still means my music is more important.”

    “I know,” I smile warmly.  “I’m just playing.  Can’t wait to see you and Daniel perform.”

    “You should read something,” Daniel says to me, but I shake my head. 

    “I don’t think I could,” I say.  “My nerves would turn to dust.”