Latte Macchiato

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Caden took a right turn into Oak Lane and couldn't do anything about the giddy feeling of excitement in his stomach.

Oak Lane was more of an alley, lined on both sides with little shops and quite charming houses. The pavement was uneven and if he hadn't know better he would say he had stepped directly into Diagon Alley, the famous street out of the Harry Potter books. He had actually bought the whole series here and read them over the course of one winter.

Slowly, he made his way down Oak Lane, enjoying the cool autumn breeze. His steps quickened unconsciously as soon as he got a glimpse of the golden book hanging over the entrance to the bookstore. It gently swayed in the wind and reflected the sun. Otherwise the store was rather dark with black painted window frames on both sides of the equally as black door.

Caden didn't hesitate to push down the handle and step into the store. Immediately, the scent of paper and printing ink assaulted his senses and he paused a moment to take it all in. The walls were lined with shelves and the open space inbetween was filled with tables on which stacks of books were presented. He liked how there were random piles of books which didn't fit into the shelves anymore and had to wait until someone bought something.

"Did ya grow anotha ten inches?"

Surprised, Caden whirled around and came face to face with an old man. Countless wrinkles told about the years he had already lived although his gaze was anything else than exhausted or confused.

"I don't think so but I didn't check," he answered with a blush and the old man laughed, a breathless, rough sound.

"I'm probably just getting shorta," he remarked with a wave of his hand. "Ya here to get a truckload of books again?"

"Yes, I am," Caden confirmed with a grin and touched the bundle of bills in his pocket.

"Go ahead and take what ya need," the old man invited him. "Got a bunch of new ones just last week."

"Awesome," Caden breathed excitedly and went to the shelves after another wave from the man.

He didn't know the shop owner's name but he liked his sense of humor. And although the man needed a walking stick most of the time to keep his balance he wouldn't give up his store, simply because he loved books and wanted to make other people love them, too. Caden admired him for that kind of passion.

At first aimlessly, he trailed through the store, taking a closer look at what caught his eye and then perhaps carefully reading a few pages. Either it caught his interest and he placed it on the growing stack of selected books or he simply went on, having already spotted the next book.

He felt calm and oddly at ease. Perhaps because it was nearly completely quiet or because he didn't have to worry about anything.

Time flew by faster than he would have liked. The bell over the door chimed and he looked up to see Michael coming in. He carried a bag and his face was flushed from the cold.

"I think we need a mule for those," he remarked clearly amused upon spotting Caden's books. There had to be about twenty and Caden was set on dragging them all to the truck and up to their cabin.

"They are not that heavy," he argued and Michael shook his head.

"It's your money, you can spend it however you want."

"I would be glad if my son read that much." The old man scoffed. "But the book-gene skipped a generation and my grandson Oliver is the only one in the family who appreciates books as much as I do. I think ya met him last year, didn't ya?"

"I'm not su-," Michael began but got cut off.

"Oliver! Come down!"the shop owner shouted with surprisingly firm and loud voice and then smiled at them. "He'll gladly help ya carry those."

"Thanks but that's not necessary," Caden argued but the man ignored him and shuffled to the till.

"What's the matter, grandpa?" someone asked behind him and he whirled around.

A boy or rather young man stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked questioningly at his grandfather who was busy ringing up the books but answered anyways.

"Help these gentlemen to carry the bags, would ya?"

"Sure," Oliver replied and went over to the till to pack the books into cotton bags. Caden had to refrain from staring at his bright orange hair and the countless freckles that littered his nonetheless quite handsome face. Oliver caught him however and winked at him with a cheeky smile whereupon Caden felt heat creep into his cheeks. Hastily, he ducked his head to hide the redness.

"That would be one hundred eighty-seven Dollars and thirty-two Cents," the shop owner declared the total sum and Caden took out the green bundle which shrank considerably. But he had enough books to survive the winter without going nuts and that was the main point.

Oliver hoisted two bags onto his shoulders while Caden carried the third and last one and they both followed Michael out of the door and down the street after saying their goodbyes to the old man behind the till.

"Not much happens out here, does it?" Oliver said with a friendly smile and Caden nodded wordlessly.

"I usually spend my summer break in Dayton to get out of the city. It's totally different," he explained and Caden nodded again. He didn't know anything about cities so he couldn't contribute anything to their conversation.

"More nature," he mumbled and wanted to smack himself. Did he really had to make a fool out of himself?

"Much more nature," Oliver agreed enthusiastically. "Do you live somewhere around here? I don't remember seeing you here."

"Not exactly," Caden answered vaguely, not sure if Michael was okay with him telling a stranger all those things.

"Just put them in the back," Michael instructed and pointed to the truck's cargo area after reaching the vehicle at the side of the street.

Caden opened it and placed his bag inside before helping Oliver with the other two.

"Thanks," he said and smiled at the redhead. Michael had already climbed into the cab and was messing around with those buttons, paying them no mind.

"No problem, err" Oliver was clearly waiting for him to fill in his name.

"Caden, it's Caden."

"So, Caden, I'm here for the next two weeks. How about we meet and, let's say, drink some Latte Macchiato. I know a nice bakery on Lincoln Road," Oliver suggested with the same cheeky smile as before and Caden felt his heart skip a beat. What should he do? And what the hell was Latte Macchiato?

"S-Sounds great," he stuttered and the heat shot back onto his face.

"Cool. Let me know when you're in town again, you'll likely find me most of the time at the bookstore," Oliver explained and clamped a hand on Caden's shoulder, making a shiver run down his spine. "See ya around, Caden."

Again, Oliver winked at him and then strode down the sidewalk back to the bookstore. Caden gulped audibly.

"Bye," he muttered although the redhead couldn't hear him anymore.

He pressed his hands against his cheeks to cool them somehow and took a few deep breaths before closing the back of the truck and sliding into the passenger seat. Michael started the car and merged into traffic.

"What's Latte Macchiato?" Caden inquired as innocently as possible and Michael chuckled gruffly.

"It's some sort of coffee with a lot of milk," he explained and shot Caden a mischievous look. "But in this case, Oliver wants to stick his Latte in your Macchiato."

"What?" Caden exclaimed confused and got another gruff laugh in reply.

"Never mind."

"I want to know!"

"You're too young for this, cub."

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