Foresight: A Superhero Story

20. Coffee

I found myself standing in a coffee shop surrounded by hipsters. I muttered under my breath when the man-buns in front of me were throwing around words like 'organic,' 'locally sourced,' and 'responsibly raised.' I glanced around the trendy shop. It wasn't my scene. Everyone was trendy, yet alternative and chic. Me on the other hand, My look screamed 'thrift store.' You would think thrifted clothes would make me fit in with the hipsters, but if anything I stuck out like a sore thumb. That was the difference between us- because unlike me, they wore thrifted clothes because they wanted to.

Ugh. Why did he have to choose this place? Why couldn't it have been Caribou?

I self consciously tugged at my shirt before stuffing my hands in my pocket. I was well aware of the glances turned my way. My face flushed with embarrassment and a slow burning fury. I couldn't stand the fact that I was being looked down on. I had just as much right as everyone else to be here buying coffee.

Coffee you can't afford.

I sighed quietly as I clutched the crumpled dollar bills in my pocket. I had ear marked the money for mac and cheese, but I could afford to skip a meal. I looked over the menu and decided to buy the cheapest option: A small, medium roast, black coffee. I used to adore coffee. Now it was just another luxury my meager wages couldn't buy.

I remembered how my parents loved coffee. My mother would smile and clasp her hands over my ears while dad poured whole beans into the grinder. As a child I loved the smell of coffee, and that was where my love ended. Once a year my mother would pour me a cup of coffee that mostly consisted of milk and sugar. I would reluctantly take a sip and cringe when the bitter flavor graced my tongue. My parents would chuckle and say 'maybe next year.'

My eyes teared up unexpectedly. I rapidly blinked them away as I took a deep breath. Most of the year, I could push away thoughts of my parents and the life that was stolen from me. Their memories sat in the back of my mind in a neat bundle. However, after my run in with The Butcher, their memories swarmed through my mind like flies around a dumpster. I swatted them away, only to have them return in greater numbers.

"Hey V!"

I whirled around to see Roland's cheerful mug smiling down at me. "Hi." I gave him a weak smile. If my smile seemed forced, Roland ignored it.

"Let's get breakfast. I'm starving."

Breakfast?

I blinked, thinking for a moment before replying. "Oh no, just coffee for me."

Roland gave me a no-nonsense look. "Oh come on, it's my treat. Besides, I hate eating alone."

"I... Well, okay."

We moved forward in line, waiting patiently until it was our turn to order. Roland ordered an espresso and two scones. I hesitated for a moment before deciding on a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin. We waited patiently at the far end of the counter for our order while the barista with two nose rings prepared our coffee. With Roland beside me, I felt as though I could finally relax. The curious stares from the other customers didn't bother me as much anymore.

"So. Have you been here before?"

I glanced around the cozy shop and shrugged. "No. I've walked by before, but I'm not a huge coffee fanatic."

"Their baked goods are amazing."

We collected our goodies and headed to a small table towards the back of the store. I took a big bite of the muffin and let out a content sigh. Roland was making short work of his scones. Something told me the sugary pastries wouldn't hold him over for long.

"You weren't kidding. This muffin is incredible."

Roland smiled at me. "Baked goods are my weakness. I know a lot of good places to eat around here." He took a sip of the espresso, his eyes scanned the room lazily. "So, what do you do for a living?"