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It's going to be fine. Just put your hair down and—
I flick my gaze, catching Juliana's stare. With mortified shrieks, they duck their heads.
Oh my god, oh my god, he totally saw us!
No, he didn't.
Girl, are you blind? He looked right—
I clear my throat loudly.
There's a pause in their discussion. Black hair creeps up the circular window, higher and higher, until I meet a pair of hooded eyes wearing false lashes, who I presume is Mei. With another gasp, she disappears quickly. A girlish pep-talk follows, which Juliana counters with strong objections. Then a decision is made—which Mei makes on her own, by shoving her friend out the door.
Juliana stumbles into the bar area, narrowly tripping over a wet floor sign. Eyes wide like an owl, her hair's a frazzled mess, and her glasses slip half-way down her nose. A snarky comment is seconds from darting out of my mouth, when it's rudely interrupted by the most offensive noise.
EEEEE, ERRRRR, EEEEE, ERRRRR...
We only stare at each other, as the entire café slows to a standstill.
The ambient music fades, transitioning to the next track. Chatter dies out on a whisper. Coffee buffs turn their heads. Even the constant hum of the city outside seems to hush. And in walks that cringe-inducing, socially paralyzing, skin-crawling awkwardness. A feeling so suffocating and foreign that I find myself praying the floor turns into quicksand.
The instant the squeaking subsides, I practically choke out my order. "I'll have a vanilla latte with a shot of espresso."
At the edge of my vision, Mei peeks through the window, driving my pulse higher. It's still so fucking quiet, which is no thanks to Juliana, who only looks at me with a million thoughts bombarding her brain. Just... blank. I'm on the verge of a heart attack, before the music picks up slowly, as does the chatter.
As if zapped by lightning, Juliana springs into action. She bats her hair and fixes her glasses, suddenly unable to meet my gaze.
"Is it always so hard to get service at The Caffeine Cove?" She glares at me, shooting a thrill down to my bones. "Well hello to you, too."
"Why are you here?" she hisses under her breath, wary of her friend's obvious eavesdropping.
"I was in the area."
She deadpans, to which I reply with a polite smile. Rolling her eyes, she grabs a paper cup off the stack—
"My order's not to go."
Her hand freezes midway. "Why not?" she clips out.
"I'd like to enjoy the atmosphere," I say, my tone oozing sarcasm.
With a bored sigh, I lean against the counter, forcing my head on a swivel, only to come to the horrifying realization that I might actually like what I see. Although it's the polar opposite of my typical scene, The Caffeine Cove has its charm. A vintage charm, to be precise, with a truly impressive attention to detail.
Unique tiles grace the flooring, boasting a black-and-white checkered pattern with streaks of marbled gray, and dark oak woodwork accents the bistro tables, cross-back chairs, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that house hundreds of leather-bound novels. The place is like a thousand-piece puzzle—the longer I look, the more discoveries I make. Small knickknacks, brick accent walls, hanging wall china, taper candles, period artwork, Tiffany lamps, floral curtains...
I manage to pull myself away.
Did I just let some dusty old books win me over...? Shit, I think I need to cleanse my eye sockets at a nightclub.
Clearing my throat once more, I curve my lips back to their permanent smirk with a wink. "And I'm here to enjoy your company, of course."
She huffs in annoyance, selecting a ceramic mug. "Our meeting isn't supposed to be until tomorrow."
"Is that so? Gosh, I think I got the days mixed up."
"Well, maybe you wouldn't have, if you'd actually cared to text me back these past two days."
Guilty as charged. Radio silence is my M.O. Maybe because...
