Brad reaches out and grabs the end of one of my brown curls. He stretches it out straight and then lets it go. “Boing! ” he says, then flashes me a smile as he disappears into the back room.
I just smirk and shake my head. I pretend that it’s silly whenever Brad talks about finding me a boyfriend, that I don’t even want one. But the truth is, yes, I do. It’s just that not having something because you don’t want it is far less pathetic than wanting something you can’t have. I’m sixteen and in two months I’ll be a junior, but all of my guy experiences up until this point, a grand total of three brief make-outs with three different people, have been with friends of whoever my best friend, Amanda, was dating at the time, and just kind of happened randomly. Just once I’d like to kiss a guy because we actually like each other, not because we’ve been left alone by our respective friends, who are messing around in the next room, and have run out of stuff to say and need something else to do with our mouths.
I look out over the counter. It’s quiet in here, pretty average for an early Friday evening, before the nighttime rush. A dozen or so people are working on laptops or reading or talking quietly. A lanky guy with bright orange hair and an earring in each ear dumps his paper cup into the garbage and turns to wave as he walks out. Earl Grey, double tea bags, with extra milk. That’s what he drinks when he comes in here, which is only about once a month. Why do I know this? It’s the funny thing about working in a coffee bar, I guess. You get to know a tiny little bit about an awful lot of people. I don’t know most of my customers’ names or where they live or how old they are, but I know all the weird stuff they like to do to their caffeinated (or decaf) drinks.
Two girls approach the counter.
One is younger than I am, maybe fifteen or so. The other is older, probably around nineteen. The younger one has this big, bright, ecstatic grin on her face that is taking over all of her features. When you see a smile this genuine, it makes you realize just how many of the smiles you see during an average day aren’t. Looking at her, I find it almost impossible not to smile back.
The older girl has the same expression on her face, like there is light pouring out of her. And she has the same eyes. And similar bone structure and…There’s a weird tugging inside my chest as I realize something—they’re sisters, these girls. Instantly I know everything about them. And I feel a little sick.
They haven’t seen each other in a while. The older one was at college, or away on a long trip, and she’s just returned home. When she was gone, it felt like she’d been gone forever, but now that she’s back, it’s like she never left. Growing up, they fought a lot, Younger was jealous of Older, resented her and all the stuff she got to do that Younger didn’t. Older had always thought Younger was a pain, who would never leave her alone. But years have passed since then, and all that petty stuff that once seemed so important stopped mattering, the way it always does. Or the way it’s supposed to, anyway. They realized they can be friends now, real friends. And it means so much to both of them because they know how much they went through to get there.
I take a deep breath and try to keep my face completely still, expressionless. I know it’s not fair, but I suddenly hate them.
“Hi!” says Younger, perky behind long bangs. “We would like, um, some zucchini bread and…LaurLaur?” She looks up. “What else should we get?”
“Um, are the brownies good?” Older asks. And then smiles and lightly smacks herself in the forehead, “Why am I even asking, right? They’re brownies. So yeah, a zucchini bread, and a brownie of course, and a croissant…”
Younger starts giggling, “And another croissant! An almond one!”
“And an iced latte,” says Older. “And a cupcake and a smoothie and…”
The girls keep ordering, their smiles growing bigger and bigger, exchanging looks like coming here and ordering all this food is the culmination of a private joke. Probably something they’d been discussing for months while Older was gone, like, “When we’re together again, we’ll go to Mon Coeur…and order one of everything!”
I make their drinks and try to avoid eye contact. They’re chatty in that way people are when they’re just really happy, a little high on how happy they are.
“I just love this place,” says Younger.
“I know, I really missed it,” says Older. “I think, it’s what I missed most while gone. Yup!” She opens her eyes really wide and Younger mock punches her in the arm. Older grabs Younger around the shoulder and kisses her on the cheek and Younger pretends to wipe it off. They both laugh.
All their food is lined up on the counter now. I stand there staring at them.
“Oooh, sorry!” Older says. She takes out a lime green leather wallet, pays for everything with crisp new bills. “Thank you so much!” she says.