Morrow

Coffee?

Blake's lungs inflated eagerly like a child trying to blow up a balloon on their birthday. Lazily, a heavy fog exited her mouth as her lungs deflated. She took one final inhale before throwing the cigarette onto the ground and squishing it with her ink coloured boot. A satisfied sigh poured from within her. Flooding like an incoming tide.

"You shouldn't do that, kid," Harvey spoke in a gruff tone.

"I know, I know. Smoking kills." Blake awaited the incoming lecture from her sort-of dad.

"I mean the littering. Save the turtles dude," his fingers became peace signs as he squinted his eyes and did his best hippie impression. His hands lowered into the pockets of his khaki parka and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Blake laughed and passed him the lighter.

"Father of the year," She smirked.

"Don't tell your Ma," a wink temporarily blocked Blake's view of his fiery amber eyes.

They stood in silence while Harvey relished the swirls of smoke invading his lungs. Blake watched as his coarse, calloused hands delicately cradled the cigarette like it was a newborn baby. In that moment, Harvey cherished nothing in the world more. This was obvious by the way his normally creased brow smoothed and relaxed. Harvey looked his youngest when he was smoking. Despite the fact that the warning label on the packet stated smoking would rapidly increase the signs of ageing. A lopsided smile broke his lips away from his next puff.

"Quit your staring, kid," the other side of his mouth lifted and joined his smile.

Blake muttered an apology and moved her eyes to the stars above. This was nothing new to Harvey or anyone else for that matter; Blake had a habit of looking at people a bit too closely. Her mother said that it made her rude and unladylike. She was probably right. But Blake didn't care what her mother thought, or so she told herself.

"Do you think we're really alone out here?" Blake asked, scanning the sprinkle of lights. Harvey's stare landed on her face and followed her gaze upwards.

"Honestly? I don't know. Makes me feel small thinking about it, so I try my best not to," he let out a throaty chuckle. "I'm calling it a night, kid. I gotta be up early tomorrow." Long fingers rustle Blake's hair as he wished her goodnight and pulled open the bi-fold door.

"What's wrong with feeling small?" Blake wondered aloud and slid down the side of the weatherboard house, pulling her knees up to her chin. A buzzing forced her hand into the pocket of her muddy dungarees.

'Coffee?'

The tired screen of her cracked, out-dated iPhone blinked as Blake scanned the message from Yuuto. Yuuto had been Blake's best friend since he moved from Japan two summers ago. She hadn't had a friend before Yuuto's arrival and often doubted if she would ever have another. Small, nimble fingers typed out a reply, agreeing to meet outside Dr Rooney's Bean Harvest in fifteen minutes.

Dr Rooney's Bean Harvest was the only place in town that stayed open beyond 11 pm. Well, other than the run-down pub, Laundromat and police station. But, as Blake and Yuuto were only seventeen, despised doing laundry and didn't fancy getting arrested, it quickly became their favourite spot. The coffee was good too, Yuuto would often insist. Yuuto knew everything that there was to know about coffee. He had developed an infatuation during final exams last year and made it his mission to become a connoisseur. Blake found this highly amusing because Yuuto had never taken more than a sip of coffee in his life. The bitterness offended his taste buds and made his face scrunch into an upset expression. The self-proclaimed coffee expert who hated coffee and so, therefore, hated himself, or so he announced every few hours. Yuuto's coffee journey was limited purely to inspecting the coffee that Blake ordered and demanding her feedback after every 10 sips.

"Yuuto," Blake hissed while securing her bike onto a rack outside the café.

The boy was deeply distracted by a book he was reading titled 'Uncommon Grounds: The History of Coffee and How it Transformed our World'. Blake knew this is what he was reading without glancing at the cover of the book. She knew this because it was the only book that Yuuto read. This was due to a number of reasons 1. It was the only coffee centred book that their local library stocked, 2. Yuuto was consumed by too much anxiety to put in an order request for more books about coffee, and 3. He had learning disabilities that made it difficult to read new books.

"Yuuto," Blake repeated and gently shook his shoulder. The small boy peered up at her from beneath his bulky, black glasses. A wide smile spread across his face.

"Oh sorry, Blake. I was consumed by the genius of Mark Pendergrast. You should really read this book sometime, you know," he spoke hurriedly as they entered the café.

"I will be sure to get it out from the library if you ever return it," Blake teased as they sat at their usual table.

They liked this table because it was close enough to the fireplace to be warm without getting too hot. It was also near to the toilets but didn't get what Yuuto called 'the aftersmell' of Mr Ackerman's visits to the men's room. Blake liked it because the seats were duck egg blue, her favourite colour, and it was next to a window that overlooked the river. When she was lucky, Blake would look out the window and see a mother and her ducklings gliding gracefully along the water, underneath the picturesque Willows which also happened to be Blake's favourite tree.

"I will have you know," Yuuto began, "that Lesley and I have an agreement that I can keep this book as long as I please." Lesley was the town's librarian who only agreed because Yuuto was the only person who wanted to read 'Uncommon Grounds' and she was getting annoyed with him checking it out every few days.

"I'm very happy for you, Lesley and your agreement," Blake winked, "now what will it be Mr Enomoto? Perhaps a hot chocolate?"

"Only if you get yourself a latte," Yuuto raised a brow expectantly.

"Dude, it's 11 in the goddamn night. If I drink coffee now I'll be up half the night," Blake groaned. She valued her sleep more than anything.

Yuuto nodded and tried to hand over his wallet. Blake ignored his gesture and approached the counter. She was surprised when she wasn't greeted by Dr (definitely not a doctor) Rooney and instead saw a young woman. Woman seemed the only word appropriate to describe this individual because, although she was probably only a few years older than Blake, she seemed so composed and appeared to exude confidence.

"You're not Dr Rooney," Blake blurted without thinking. She slapped her hand to her mouth in embarrassment, trying physically to force the words back in.

"You sure are observant," the waitress replied with sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Where, ah, is he?" Blake was nervous now. She hadn't expected such a harsh response from the already intimidating waitress. "Wh-who are you?" She asked, her curiosity always stronger than her nerves.

"He's getting knee surgery, so I'm here for the summer looking after the old lady," she gestured to the café. "My name is Morrow, Rooney's niece. Now, are you going to order something or just blabber there all night?"

"Oh... Ah, yes, of course. Um. Could I please get two hot chocolates please?" Blake stumbled, once again surprised by Morrow's bluntness.

"You said please twice, you know," Morrow blinked and turned towards the machine.

Blake walked back to Yuuto in defeat. Her favourite place had become a little less bright.