The Beautiful Game

Chapter Twenty Three - Lou

    "Is this almond milk?"

    "Sorry?" I look up from my anatomy book to see a middle aged, redheaded woman, wearing a green turtle neck with corduroy overalls, holding her iced latte up in front of me. From the look on her face, I'm sensing she doesn't think it is and that I've fucked up her order.

    "It tastes like oat milk. I ordered almond." The condensation from her glass drips down onto the counter as she holds it between us, I reach to take it from her and she pulls it away quickly, scowling. "What are you doing?"

    "I was going to get rid of it and make you another." I say, slowly, confused by her bizarre reaction. I felt like I was trying to take the ring of power from Gollum.

   "So, it's not almond milk?"

   "You don't think so?" I shut my study guide. "Do you have an allergy? Do I need to call someone?" Oh God, nut allergies weren't a fucking joke. Was I going to have to stab her in the thigh with an epi pen? Christ, mental images of Professor Simmons reading the headlines with his morning cigarette flicker through my head as I stare at the irritated turtle neck lady.

   Lou Richards, jailed because of nut juice.

   She rolls her eyes and sighs through her teeth, clearly exasperated.

   "No, I don't have any allergies, but I expect to get what I ordered. Are you telling me you put the wrong milk in?" Jesus lady, I didn't have the energy for this.

   "Are you about to read me my rights?" I laugh awkwardly, trying to make light of the situation, as of course, it's a coffee, not a murder. Her mouth doesn't move from its disgruntled frown. "Bad joke. I'm sorry I can't remember, but I'll happily make another, to be sure." She places her drink on the counter and I plaster my best customer service smile on, full wattage, and take the drink away.

   I could have fucked up the order, I was the only member of staff today, Amber didn't turn up and admittedly, my thoughts were all over the place.

   From poor night's sleep, thoughts of my upcoming work placement in the Emergency Department and oh yeah, the moment Carter Hughes ripped every ounce of my self-esteem to absolute shreds; I'd been distracted. It's Wednesday evening, days have passed since what I'd began labelling as 'the event'; Kate and Ella would be arriving shortly; and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been avoiding them since that night. Which, as roommates you'd think would be impossible, but as someone who has spent a long time speaking in one word sentences and staring into space, they were kind of used to me pulling away. Hermit Lou was back to regular programming.

   "Make it to go." She finalises before crossing her arms, unfriendly eyes never leaving me as I make her drink. The sleep deprived, less mature part of me hopes she chokes on an almond.

   I take longer than necessary staring at the carton of almond milk after pulling it out of the fridge, in fact, I decide to go the extra mile and hold the carton up for the woman. She watches as I slowly uncap it and pour it in to her cup, the cartoon almonds grinning at her from the label. I'm apologising again as I hand the cup over to her as the door blows open, Kate and Ella breezing through. Kate takes her usual seat in the faded leather armchair whilst Ella bounces over to the counter, dramatically slapping her hand against it, her black hair wind tousled around her face.

   "Lou! Tell me you have cranberry juice back there? My vagina is on fire." Ella doesn't bat an eyelid at the green turtleneck woman who's yet to get out of earshot. I wouldn't be surprised if she was going to be writing a strongly worded email to my manager the moment she gets chance, well, good luck to her; I'm pretty sure Burnt Toast's manager is somewhere in the Bermuda triangle these days.