$3.49 ♦ luke hemmings au

Chapter 3: Lake Harriet

Three Weeks Later-

 It was almost 9:00pm and I just got out of Biology. I needed to get to the café before it closed. I burst through the doors panting a little. Luke was the only one there, and he was sweeping the floor.

“Hey, barista guy!” I greeted him.

“Hey, Kris! I’m just starting to close up.”

I make a pouting face

“Have time for one more order?” I pleaded.

Rolling his eyes, he set down his broom.

“I’ve spoiled you, haven’t I?”

Before or after every evening class I would come to the café and Luke would get me my drink. He pampered my by drizzling on extra caramel, or giving me a small discount. Luke hopped over the counter, not bothering to use the door.

“So what will it be then?” he questioned.

“Two pumpkin spice lattes with extra cinnamon.”

“Two lattes with extra spice and everything nice,” he repeated.

I laughed, “You’re cheesy, you know?”

“Why thank you, Miss Kristine Paquette,” he said handing me my lattes.

I rolled my eyes and watched him sweep and wipe down the machines. After about 20 minutes of shutting everything down we stepped outside. He locked the doors and looked over to me.

“Well, I guess I’ll see ya later, how’s tomorrow? We could study at the--”

“Nope! Tonight, Hemmings. We’re going out tonight,” I interrupted handing him the other latte.

“Like a date? Where?” he questioned.

“It’s a date only if you want, and we’ll go wherever!”

“It’s a date,” he said taking my hand.

We walked to East Bank Station and Platform, a metro transit station on campus. We ended up taking the shuttle, and got off at a random station. Luke and I walked to Lake Harriet. Without warning, Luke sprinted toward a small building. It was odd, it looked like a brick circus tent, or as if it was made out of a bunch of upside down ice cream cones.

“They sell ice cream here, Kris!” Luke squealed.

Go figure.

Much to Luke’s disappointment, they were closed. Luke and I finished the last of our lattes and threw them out. We decided to walk the path around the lake. We strolled in silence for a few minutes then Luke spoke up, “How did you do on the Sense and Sensibility Analysis test?”

“Um, I got a A- so I’m pretty satisfied. I got question 7 wrong and I feel so stupid!” I complained.

“I got an A- too. Yeah, I got 7 right but I totally bombed the last short answer question.”

“Loser,” I smirked, earning me fake punch.

“Hey, you got number 7 wrong,” he defended himself.

I rolled my eyes.

I asked, “So we’re doing a project on Sense and Sensibility, right?”

“Yeah, something about putting the book into another art form,” Luke replied.

“So like making the book into a poem or something?”

“Something like that, but we’ll find out on Monday.”