Magic in Costa Rica

Busy Bee

I sat down at the table with Carla, exhausted from being on my feet all day at the mall. We took refuge in a small cafe next to the food court and found two seats in a quiet corner.

"This is a disaster!" I groaned as I reclined in my chair.

"What? Why? I think this cafe is pretty nice," Carla shrugged.

"No, not the cafe, the whole day! What were we thinking, shopping for prom dresses a week before prom? All the good dresses are sold out!" I started to panic, and Carla could see it on my face. She lowered her voice to a soothing tone.

"Alma, calm down! We will find something. I have an idea," she smiled slyly.

"Well, what is it?" I leaned forward, desperate for any solution.

"Hang on," Carla held up a finger and stood up, "let's go order first." She walked up to the counter and caught the attention of the barista. I groaned again and followed her up.

"What can I get for you ladies?" The barista smiled as he greeted us.

"I'll have an iced latte with almond milk, please!" Carla chirped. "And she'll have..." she looked back at me and raised her eyebrows.

"Oh- earl gray tea, please," I stuttered, slightly caught off guard.

"What is with you today?" Carla asked as we made our way back to our seats, drinks in hand. I sighed as I sat down and curled up with my mug of tea.

"I don't know, I'm just stressed out."

"About what?" Carla took a sip of her latte and closed her eyes. "That is so good," she exhaled deeply. I snorted and shook my head.

"I don't understand how you can drink that. I tried coffee once at the diner and it was disgusting. And it burnt my tongue."

"You tried hot, black, diner coffee!" Carla scoffed. "This is an iced, almond milk latte. It's pure heaven. Here, try it," she handed me her cup and I took a hesitant sip.

"Hmm, not bad," I nodded, handing it back to her.

"More for me," Carla shrugged. "Anyways, why are you so stressed out?"

"I don't even know where to start," I sighed; and that was the truth. After Mrs. De Luca died, I was depressed for months, during the middle of college application season (in other words, the worst time ever to be depressed) and had barely managed to meet my deadlines.

Thankfully, Mr. Miller helped me enormously by editing my college essays and helping me apply for scholarships. If it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't have gotten into Northeastern University's writing program, and I definitely wouldn't have gotten the amount of scholarship money that I did. My dad and I figured that I could make it work if I lived at home and kept working at Stewart's during the school year. Carla was going into Northeastern's art program, along with Ethan, and she agreed to give me a ride to campus every morning. Still, money was still going to be tight, and I was saving up every penny for school. It made me anxious to go shopping, even for something as important as a prom dress. Plus, I had already spent money printing out a few paperback copies of Magic in Costa Rica and I didn't have a lot more to spare regardless.

After I got accepted to Northeastern, I had become a lot more motivated, and had been working extremely hard to make sure that I was all set for next year. I had accomplished that, for the most part, but I still had finals to worry about, and I had to submit my final project for Mr. Miller's class. It wasn't due until next Monday, but I was already having trouble with it. Our assignment was to write at least ten pages about anything we wanted, which was an infuriatingly vague prompt. I wanted to do a good job with it, since it would be the last thing I ever wrote for Mr. Miller, or at least for one of his classes.