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“What are you drinking?” he asks, handing his card to the new barista.
I’ve never seen her here before today. The owner was giving her instructions earlier when we came in and ordered our food.
She’s got her eyes set on Slade as he stares back at me. She seems just as smitten with his presence as every girl on campus was with him four years ago.
Nothing’s changed.
I want to warn her to stay away from him. He’s not the “bring home to mom and dad” type, but then again, she might not be looking for long-term.
Either way, I hate when women give Slade any undeserving adoration. He doesn’t need any additional ego boost.
“And whatever she’s having,” he tells her.
Her smile falls a little when she realizes that he’s talking about me.
Though her smile has no reason to waver, I’m sure as hell not going to arm wrestle her for him. She can have him for all I care.
Everyone else in line, including the barista, stare back at me, waiting for me to answer him.
“You don’t have to do that. I can wait,” I say.
“What are you drinking, Penelope?” he says, not taking no for an answer.
He’s holding up the line and is playing on the fact that I’ll eventually succumb to peer pressure and cave into his request. I don’t like being inconsiderate by holding anyone up. Having people waiting on me for an answer is a small kind of torture.
“A chai,” I say softly, feeling yucky about letting him buy anything for me.
It’s like, somehow, if I let him buy me this small thing, he’ll have made amends, and I must forgive him.
Fat chance that’s ever going to happen even if he bought me the whole damn coffee shop.
No chai, no matter how delicious, will make up for what I lost.
“Dirty…” I say at the last second, fighting back the urge to close my eyes and wrinkle my nose by saying the word out loud.
My eyes dart to the older man directly in front of me wearing a fedora hat and attempting to look like a character from a detective novel. It's more likely he's a retired middle school teacher that none of his students liked. He gives me an odd look… the one I figured I would get for ordering my chai… dirty.
Then my eyes reluctantly glance back at Slade. A smirk stretches across his lips as he stares back at me.
He turns back to the barista. “Make it extra dirty,” he tells her, and she blushes.
Of course, she does.
Not that I have anything against her. She’s just human… she can’t help it.
I blame him. It’s the damn Slade effect. That’s what my roommate in college used to call it as she rolled her eyes.
The barista inputs the drink order, swiping his card to pay for it and then hands it back to him.
He takes his card and slips it back into his wallet, then steps out of line and walks towards the pick-up window.
There’s no more reason for me to stand in line as other customers walk into Serendipity’s Coffee Shop and start lining up behind me.
I follow him to the left side of the counter towards the exit where the coffee cart and the pick-up window are located.
He leans an arm up on the bar-height counter and watches me take my sweet time, joining him at the corner of the shop.
“Thanks,” I say simply.
