The girl giggles as I pretend to focus on painting the square. She takes another look at the boy who is now putting in his white earbuds. ‘He’s not going to ask me. I know it.’
‘Do you want to be his girlfriend?’
She stares at me in horror. ‘No one likes labels anymore. I think he and I should come out of our friendship zones… now and then. Nothing serious or anything. Maybe go on a date once or twice a week.’
Wow, things have certainly changed in the world of teenage love. I remember how good it felt knowing I was Noah’s girlfriend. Leaning in I whisper, ‘Take matters into your own hands – ask him.’ Smiling, I give her a little nudge. We both glance over. The boy is busy painting and engrossed in whatever music is pumping through his earbuds.
The girl takes a deep breath. ‘You are right. It’s time to sort out my own destiny.’ She takes out her phone and taps out a message. I give her a wink.
The boy checks his phone, looks up and grins.
When I turn back to steal a look at what’s happening they are both stood holding out their phones and posing for a selfie with each other, heads pressed together, and dreamy smiles plastered over their faces. As the boy returns to his part of the wall, I notice the girl has an ear-to-ear smile. It gives me a surprisingly warm feeling to know that I have helped them. Maybe I should keep my own feelings about love to myself. Just because I don’t believe in love, doesn’t mean others have to do the same.
I look over to check on Lucas and he’s disappeared. Panic sets in. I look around and spot him helping Noah. The sight of them together fills my chest with fluttery birds. As I come to stand near them, Noah’s hand brushes against mine. My whole body comes alive. I quickly dismiss the sensations.
Lilly climbs on a box and claps for everyone’s attention. ‘I want to introduce you all to Alice and Noah who run The Little Love Café. They’ve kindly donated us some pink paint. Let’s all give them a round of applause.’
A handful of teenagers clap but most take to their phones.
A young girl puts her hand up. ‘Hi, Alice and Noah. My mum has text me to say she went to school with you two and she wants to know – are you back together?’
Oh God, my face is now the colour of the paint. Why do people keep asking that?
CHAPTERTWENTY
‘How’s Lucas this morning?’ Noah asks as I unlock the doors and open up the café.
A smile pulls up the corners of my mouth. ‘He had to have another bath before he went to school. That child looked like a walking art project by the time we got home.’
Noah laughs. ‘His hair made me smile. There was more paint in there than there was on his brush.’
After depositing my bag behind the counter, I set to work on making sure the tables are neat, tidy and all have a good supply of heart-shaped menus. As I wipe one table, I notice Noah is looking at me. This morning I decided to make an effort with my hair by curling it and I added a little eye shadow and mascara.
‘I enjoyed last night,’ Noah says, from behind the counter. ‘You were always doing volunteering stuff like that when we were younger.’
‘Me too. I used to enjoy everyone mucking in on a project when we were kids. Although you and Frankie always moaned when I made you do Sunday Beach Litter Cleaning.’
I can hear Noah chuckle. ‘No teenager wants to get up early to pick up crisp packets and plastic bottles.’
‘Oh, Pam came back and confirmed she will be able to cover the extra cupcakes for the wedding reception.’
He places his hand on my shoulder. ‘Good work, Alice.’
The sound of footsteps entering the café make us both look up. It’s the girl from last night and with her is the boy with the white earbuds. Her blonde hair is elegantly braided, and the boy’s messy brown hair looks like it needs a good brush. Both are wearing T-shirts, denim shorts, trainers, and have rucksacks slung over their shoulders. My eyes are drawn to how close they are standing. They both smile as I walk over to them.
‘Hello again. This place is cool,’ gushes the girl, fiddling with one of her braids. ‘I’ve never been in here.’
‘Why’s that?’ I ask, keen to know more.
She grins. ‘It looks like the kind of place my dad would take my mum when he’s trying to get her to agree to him going to watch the footie with his mates.’
Her male friend smirks.
She surveys the café. ‘It’s the kind of place I’d bring my nana though. I love treating my little nana.’
‘Your nana?’ I cast her a puzzled look. ‘Our friend who owns this place has tasked Noah and me with finding new business opportunities. He thought it would appeal to younger customers like yourselves. So, I’m curious about why you said your nana?’
She nods and looks across at the little pink tables and chairs. ‘I’m not sure teenagers like us would come here on dates. It’s too bright and sugary pink for us. However, I would bring my nana here.’
