The Barista

Alec Lightwood wasn't a big fan of coffee, but the winter chill was nipping at his face so fiercely that he pulled his scarf around his neck a little tighter before venturing into the nearest coffee shop he could find. Maybe a cup will warm me up, he thought to himself. I'll be late for class, but I'd rather get a bad grade than frostbite.

        It was too early for the rush of high school students out for lunch, but too late for the barrage of stern-looking office people grabbing their steaming cups before work. As he pushed open the door, he could hear a woman shouting, "Why on earth would you put up a sign like that?" The bell over the door chimed happily, signaling Alec's arrival. Both the woman yelling (the manager, Alec assumed) and the barista turned to look at him as he sheepishly entered the store.

        "I'm so sorry," he muttered. "I'll leave if this is a bad time."

        "Not at all." The barista smiled. He was a spunky kid around Alec's age-probably a college student like he was working part-time-with dark hair and even darker eyes that seemed to pull Alec toward the counter. It was then he noticed the sign that the manager had probably been yelling about. It read:

        TODAY YOUR BARISTA IS:
        1. Hella fucking gay.
        2. Desperately single.
        FOR YOUR DRINK TODAY I RECOMMEND:
        You give me your number.

        "So, what can I get for you today?" the barista said.

        "Uh...." For once, Alec was at a loss for words. What did he want? "What would you suggest?" he asked dumbly.

        "What does the board say?" He winked at Alec before the manager slapped him not too gently on the shoulder. "Do your job," she hissed before going into the back room.

        "Seriously, what would you recommend?" Alec tried to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks by staring around the shop, avoiding the barista's eyes.

        "How about this: I fix up my favourite blend, and you have to guess what it is." Alec nodded before taking a seat by the window. Only a minute had passed before the barista sat in front of him with a takeaway coffee cup. "Try it," he said, stripping off his apron and throwing it to the floor.

        Alec fumbled around in his wallet. "How much?"

        "It's on me."

        Once more, Alec was drawn in by the barista's dark eyes. "Thank you," he said gratefully, putting the wallet back into his bag.

        The barista shrugged. "Drink up, stranger."

        "Alec," he said before realizing it. "My name is Alec." Bracing himself for the bitterness that was sure to follow, Alec was surprised when nothing other than a perfect mix of sweet and salty hit his tastebuds. "What is this?"

        "You're supposed to guess."

        "I don't know. Tell me."

        The barista smirked, almost as if he had a secret. "Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you." Sweeping the apron off the floor, the barista returned behind the counter.

        "Wait, " Alec said. "I didn't catch your name."

        "Never gave it." The barista flashed him another cheeky grin before disappearing into the back room. Clutching the steaming cup of deliciousness, Alec hurried out the door before the barista could return.