The Ferris Wheel

1

I had the dream again last night.

I walked down the Navy Pier with her, hand in hand, spending a whole evening playing carnival games and riding the ferris wheel. I'm afraid of heights, but my stomach still did the floppy thing even when I stood on solid ground next to her. She made a ferris wheel feel as easy and as natural as a walk in the park. She made everything feel so familiar yet so excitingly new.

We watched the sun set on Lake Michigan, and my heart fluttered each time she looked at me. When I turned to look at her, she kissed me.

And then I woke up.

Shit, I think, groaning and rubbing my eyes. My alarm beeps at me in a sharp, annoying tone as I sit up, my mind still entrapped in dreamland. I smack the snooze button and roll onto my side, grabbing my phone from its resting place on my bedside table and scrolling through today's social media posts to wake myself up.

After the alarm beeps again, I actually get out of bed, hobbling down the hallway to the bathrooms and carrying out my daily routine. I check the weather when I get to my room and plan my outfit accordingly: a sweatshirt and leggings (pretty classic for autumn).

I have an hour until class starts, so I grab my phone and my bag and head down to the dining hall. Cap'n Crunch is my breakfast choice for the day, and I sit in a pretty vacant area of the hall, putting in my headphones and preparing myself for the day. My mind not surprisingly drifts back into thinking about the dream, and I'm glad when my friends come sit next to me and interrupt my thoughts.

"Hey Jess!" Mark says with a wave. "What's up?"

"Nothin' much, really. Had the dream again last night."

"Not again," Anna replies. "That sucks."

"This is the third time I've had it this week."

"I can't even imagine. It's like watching a rom-com on repeat that always stops before they get together. It's absolute torture,"  Sophie adds.

"You tell me," I respond. "So what's up with you guys?"

"Well, this isn't about me specifically, but the coffee shop on campus just added pumpkin spice lattes to the menu," Mark says. "They're phenomenal."

"I can imagine, but I'm not really a PSL kinda gal. I'll just stick with my usual."

"But caramel iced lattes are so BORING," Mark huffs dramatically.

"Yeah, but I like them. That's all that matters."

"Preach," Sophie says through sips of her cold brew.

"PSL's are gross, Mark. Seriously," Anna retorted, raising her eyebrows.

"Shut up, Anna. You don't even drink coffee."

I check my watch. "Sorry to interrupt your very intense debate about coffee, but I gotta get to class."

"Bye, Jess!" They all say collectively, and I walk towards the door, their heated conversation about caffeinated drinks still raging despite my absence. I chuckle to myself. I have the greatest friends.

I walk across the quad to the campus coffee shop for my morning coffee. A pumpkin spice latte sign is posted outside the entrance, and I already see a bunch of people with the drink in their hands as I walk in.

The line is relatively short today, and when I get to the counter, I already have the right amount of change in my hand. The barista greets me with a smile, and my heart and my stomach collectively backflip.

"Hey, love. What can I get you today?"

Love. She just called me "love."

"Could I please have a medium caramel iced latte? Thanks."

Love.

"Of course, love. That'll be $3.15. Could I have a name for your order?"

LOVE.

"Um, Jess."

SHE CALLED ME LOVE.

"Thanks, Jess. That'll be out soon."

I move out of the line to the serving counter, my heart moving at a mile per minute. I haven't had much time to think about the dream I had last night, but if it ever becomes reality, I know I want the the barista to be her.

I look for her in the back, and there she is, making my latte.

Fuck, I think to myself. She has to be the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

I catch myself before I stare at her for too long, glancing down at my phone to help break my gaze.

"Order for Jess!"

I reach out to grab the drink from her, looking at her name tag in order to politely thank her.

"Thanks, um..." I can't quite make out the name. "...Kepra."

She laughs. Her smile could end all sufferings. "It's Keara." 

"Oh, sorry. Thanks, Keara," I say with an awkward chuckle, feeling my face start to burn with embarrassment.

OH MY GOD.

I quickly stick the straw in the lid and make my way out, but not before I hear Keara greet the next customer in line: "What can I get for you today?"