Coffee Shop

• 05 •

Same. The next morning, I woke up the same, dressed nearly the same, and grabbed another of Mr. Paul's cupcakes with the same icing. But my embarrassment hadn't gone away. I was still nervous to all Hell. Yet, when a two o'clock alarm pinged on my phone, I walked out of the door.

And that was where the familiarities ended. At least... to an extent.

Because as I stepped out into the street, as the wind blew through my hair, the alarm chime on my phone turned into two separate vibrations. Text notifications.

One was from Jun. It read, Hey, sis, sorry I didn't call back. How'd it go?

I wanted to smile at his message, and respond immediately, but the second message made me walk really slow.

It was from Mario, my ex. I thought I could escape him and the past we shared by moving into the city. His text was a small reminder he hadn't forgotten about me. And wouldn't. His message read, Hey Kay, I miss you.

I waited at the street corner, huffing and puffing to myself. I'd already opened his message, so he knew I saw it. Not responding to him would only lead to more texts. More calls. Possibly emails, too, because he was weird. Obsessive.

And the one guy who always reminded me I wouldn't amount too much. That without him, I was nothing but little Kay who made cakes.

No, I can't let him in. Not again.

I told myself this was my chance. Adulting wasn't easy and there wasn't a guidebook on how to do it, but I had to try. And so far, I thought I was doing pretty well. Getting an apartment was crossed off my list. Now, I could swipe that red sharpie over "get a job." If I had texted that to Mario, he would probably respond with a, "whatever, that's cool, let me know when you're out on the street, so I can pick you up."

I didn't need that negativity. Not from him, or anyone back home.

What I needed was support. New friends, too. The ones I had, of course, hadn't bothered to call me. Not once. Pocketing my phone, I rushed forward, thinking good thoughts. When the bookstore came into view, I caught sight of Jade chatting away with a customer near the far wall. I'd stopped for a moment to look at her, and she saw me. She smiled, waved, and I waved back. In the back of my head, I put her on a mental shelf.

Jade can be a cool friend.

Pushing forward, I went on to my next thought: boyfriend. A boyfriend would be nice. Sure, romance wasn't a requirement in life, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want one. Mario was nice in the beginning, but back then, we were just kids. Once our teens exploded into young adulthood, his true nature formed. It was clear what he wanted from me, expected of me. My parents hadn't made it any better, either.

"Marry him, he's a good boy. His family has money in town." That's what my mother would say. Daily. Telling her I wasn't happy didn't matter. She didn't care.

But I did. I wanted happiness. Something special. If I were in a relationship, I wanted it to be with someone who would make me smile, laugh, and eat all the cookies I'd bake without a single complaint. I didn't need a fervent romance filled with heated nights of passion.

No, I'm lying. I want that, too.

When I reached the street corner across from the café, my phone buzzed again. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I reached it. I just knew it was Mario, having seen his text had been read. I was prepared to answer this time, all in caps with angry emojis.

But it wasn't Mario. It was Jun. Again. Because I didn't answer his first text.

His message read, Did the interview go okay? Or do I need to pull the big bro card?