Coffee Shop Conversations | ✓

06

"i can't believe she's making me get a tutor. she could just let me fail the class because i don't need french to graduate anyways. i know you have a 98 average and everything, but i seriously doubt even you could make a dent in me," cam complains, slamming every single one of her books onto the table obnoxiously.

some people in the coffee shop turn to look at us, but no one says anything.

"i promise, i can make your french marks go up. are you seriously forgetting my last name is bouchard and my first language was french?!"

"yeah yeah." cam waves her hand around. "but i speak like fourth grade french and we're in grade twelve."

i roll my eyes at her. cam was seriously a drama queen. her french was probably two years behind, not eight. she just sucked at verb conjugation (which actually was fourth grade). "let me just grab a coffee and i'll be back." 

i was worried all day about this moment. seeing that fucking barista again. i had been getting cam to take my orders all week, but today, she was forcing me to face him. some best friend she was.

"hey," he grins and humour dances in his eyes. he thought it was funny but i am mortified.

"sorry about the other day..." i say sheepishly. "can i get a-"

"here," he says. "don't be sorry. it seems to be working out for you." 

he hands me a large, warm cup of what smells like a chai latte. attached to the cup is a little note that makes my heart flutter.

"is this from..."

"yep. i know his name, but i definitely 100% respect the privacy of my customers...so between you and me, let's call him 'jack'."

"respect of privacy," i laugh. "that's rich, coming from you."

"trust me, when you see this guy, you'll thank me."

"well, for the drink, thank you...?"

"frank."

"well , thanks frank. see you tomorrow." he salutes me with his fingers and i return to the table.

"chai latte? didn't know you drank that. i've been trying to get you to for months now. wait...there's a note-" she snatches the note off the cup. she begins to read,"-most male cats are left pawed! to cancel daily cat facts."

i immediately take the paper from her, cheeks burning red. i finish the rest of the note in my head. 

"reply 'cancel'. personally, i use my left hand too...if you know what i mean." 

so he was left-handed...kind of a gross way to find out, but i would take any hints i could get.

 "sorry being the gay barista's girlfriend to get free drinks won't work out:( to make up for ridding you of this wonderful opportunity, i decided to buy you a drink. it's a chai latte: one of my favourites. you can add cinnamon if you want, but that's not really my thing. enjoy, princess!"

by the time i'm done, my face is as hot as the cup in my hands.

"that is adorable!" cam squeals and i back away to avoid damaging my ear drums. of course she was reading over my shoulder. of course.

"shit, i really wish i knew who this was."

"my bets are on boyce. he's totally been checking you out lately," she grins. "i'm always right about boys."

yeah, sure.

i tuck to note into my jean pocket and steer the conversation back to french, ignoring the zoo of butterflies in my stomach.