003.
Hello, hello again.
I’m in a good mood. I got manga. Well, Legal Drug anyway. Sad in a way. I’ve resolved not to read anymore shoujo manga – at least, not for a while. It has a tendency to depress me and yet, send me into giddy fits again and again. I’m also watching Death Note 2: The Last Name and I’m tempted to throw something at the television because some of these characters are…annoying me to death.
I’m crazy.
Anyway, second chapter of Falling Slowly. The usual disclaimers go here and remember people – copy+pasting is a crime. 
002 Nine in the Afternoon
Jake
The morning crowd at Palette Coffee wasn’t that bad. The morning crowd consisted of the workaholics and students with early classes getting their daily dose of overpriced caffeine. Working the machines and making coffee with as much love and care as you could in three minutes flat while the masses grumbled and groaned – but tolerated because there was nothing they could do short of making their own coffee.
Not that I’m complaining, thought Jake Waverly as he sipped a grande-sized caramel latte. What he did complain about was that the apron that all baristas were required to wear clashed horrendously with his auburn hair. Who decided that the employee uniform was bright yellow? He was going to shoot them.
But now it was afternoon, and the lunch crowd hadn’t hit yet. The lunch crowd was a little noisier but it didn’t really matter. After all, they paled in comparison to the post-work and school crowds between 3PM to 7PM. He got off at five.
“What am I doing working the day shift today? I’m on shift tonight at Slither; which means I’m going to be dealing with some seriously weird drunks,” he murmured, inspecting his paper cup which stated it was made of 75% post-consumer recycled paper. “There was that guy yesterday, apparently. The one Chase told me about. Keeled over, right off the chair. I mean, damn. That is fucked up,”
“If you keep talking to yourself, I’m not the only one who’s going to think you’re crazy,” said a cheerful voice. Jake’s eyes flicked downwards to see his best friend, the perpetually cheery Christian Rossi.
“You think I’m crazy? How could you, Christian!” wailed Jake, melodramatically. He still had a smirk on his face. “I thought we had something…special! What will our neighbours think?” Thankfully, the coffee shop was empty and there wasn’t anyone around to watch their ridiculous antics. Except the few dozen people walking by the store and staring unabashedly at Jake being a drama queen.
“They’ll wonder why that ‘nice Rossi boy’ hangs out with that ‘incorrigible Waverly boy’ – you know,” at that, Christian lowered his voice to a hush. “- the one who plays horrendously loud music at four in the morning,”
Jake resisted the urge to slap Christian. After all, they were at work and slapping is just so…girly. And Jake S. Waverly was definitely not girly. Or so he thought. Instead he chugged down his coffee, rolling his eyes as he did.
“God, you look like a girl when you do that,” Christian grinned, flicking the side of Jake’s plastic framed glasses. “You’ve had these glasses for as long as I’ve known you. I mean what the hell? Change your glasses – get contacts or something,”
Jake glared at him over the rim of his mug. “You’re like the annoying younger brother I never had,” he grit out, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Multiple wristbands and chains wrapped around his wrist bumped and clattered against one another. “’sides, what part of struggling university student do you not get?”
“Yeah, yeah – I get it, don’t worry,” Christian laughed. Eying the counter, he noticed a few people entering the café. “Hey Jake, c’mon – lets tend to the customers. Don’t want Scarlett getting pissed at us for neglecting the place after all,”
Jake snorted and turned to the register, setting his mug down where it wouldn’t be knocked over by Christian’s flailing limbs. The university sophomore had this alarming tendency to use exuberant hand gestures while talking. Maybe that was the upbringing.
“Hey, welcome to Palette Coffee, what’s your order?” he greeted. Standard procedure at Palette, drummed in by Scarlett through consistent training – and possibly subliminal messaging. The brunette in front of him looked bored, although vaguely like those girl-next-door stereotypes in movie and teen soap operas. How could you look bored in a coffee shop? The scent of freshly brewed coffee was in the air.
“Tall double latte, low fat milk and biscotti,” her voice was icy, like one of those bitch-of-the-universe sorts of people.
Whoa, that voice does not fit the face, said Jake, mentally. He rang up her order and passed it to Fred, one of the guys on actual coffee-making duty today. “One tall double latte, low fat,” he called out, giving her change. “Have a nice day, your coffee will be ready soon,” With that, she flounced off, nose in the air.
Jeez. Pity the sucker who’s her boyfriend.
Looking up, there was a guy who looked half-dead on his feet. He walked – no, staggered towards the counter. He looked like he had been through hell and back. With him was a girl who looked less tired but more frustrated. They seemed to be arguing.
“I don’t know why you freaked like that,” said the girl, a petite brunette with dyed tips. “You were calmer with the psycho psychic,”
“Well, you would have too if your patient started gnawing on your fingers,” retorted the blonde, furrowing his brows. “My hands are still shaking, and I’ve got the strange temptation to use up bottles and bottles of hand sanitizer. I need coffee,”
Jake couldn’t help but feel sorry for the blonde. Who deserved to have their hands gnawed on in the morning? Unless you had a kink for that sort of thing…wait, BAD THOUGHT. Erase, erase. Abort mission! ABORT MISSION.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “Damn overactive imagination,” he muttered. Looking back to the counter, he saw that Christian was tending to the blonde and brunette. They were still arguing, even while the blonde was ordering.
“Caleb, you drink too much coffee,” stated the girl, glaring at the blonde. “You had two cups of coffee this morning, one at the office and now your double latte. I would slap you if I weren’t so worried about you falling asleep while standing,” She was around shoulder height to him which put him at about 5’10 at most.
“You would too if you didn’t sleep well,” retorted Caleb, looking away from the girl. Odd, his hair isn’t blonde but dirty blonde, mused Jake, watching the interaction. Not really like Christian’s platinum blonde curls. The same Christian, in fact who seems to be trying his utmost best not to inject something right now.
“In that case, you never sleep well. I heard from your sister that you were drunk off your ass last night at Slither,” She looked triumphant and yet sympathetic at the same time. Was it possible to look like that?
Well, if anything can be judged by that last chick…probably.
“I’m so sorry that you have to hear this,” apologized the blonde to Christian. He then turned back to the brunette girl. “Haley, you hang out too much with my sister. I can’t believe you were the one who called her last night,”
“I only did it because Chase called me. He said you were moaning about Valentine’s Day again. Hell – if you hate it so much, why go out and drink?” her teeth seemed to be gritted. “You fell off the bloody chair,”
Jake’s eyes widened. ‘So that’s the guy Chase was talking about. For a guy who can’t handle his alcohol – and I’m not really the best judge since I have no idea how much he drank – he cleans up well.’ he thought. ‘Why am I thinking this? There is no way I should be thinking this. One of Scarlett’s rules at work – do not flirt with people while working. Especially good looking men,’ he mimicked her voice in his head. ‘That means you, Jacob Waverly. I’m looking straight at you,’
Caleb flushed a few shades of red before paying for the coffee. “Just go get us a seat. I’m not supposed to be working today, anyway,” he muttered, avoiding the question. He shuffled towards the pick-up counter, a dark cloud seeming to settle over his head.
“One double grande caramel latte, one iced tea!” hollered Christian, nearly killing Jake’s ear. Jake rubbed his ear, glaring at the grinning barista at the cashier.
“I’m right here, you know. You don’t have to yell my ear off,” replied Jake, half-wishing something would come crashing down on his head. He grumbled, turning on the grinder and hunting in the fridge for milk. “Yo Fred, we’re nearly out of milk. Write it down, will ya?” he said, pouring milk into a metal measuring cup.
While making the blonde’s latte, Jake discreetly pumped an extra shot of caramel into the sugar-ridden drink. “Hey, tough day?” he said, setting the drink in front of the exhausted looking blonde.
“Mm, yeah. Wasn’t supposed to come into work today, but they called me in anyway,” At this, he yawned. “Don’t know if I can even get home after this. So tired,” His hair stuck up as if he had just rolled out of bed. What did he work as that allowed him to walk in like that? Or, to make his hair end up like that?
“This’ll probably wake you up then. Double grande caramel latte, extra shot of caramel?” Jake gestured to the drink, grinning. Caleb ran a hand through his hair, smiling weakly at the barista.
“Yeah, thanks,” he smiled at the barista and turned back to walk to the table where presumably he went to argue with the brunette again. Jake felt the corners of his mouth stretch into a wide grin that he couldn’t hold back.
He then got smacked upside the head.
“What the hell was that for,” yowled Jake, rubbing the back of his head. Christian stood behind him, smiling in the most angelic way possible, golden curls framing his face like a halo. Jake sent him a glare that would sent the devil himself running. But unfortunately, Christian was not the devil. He had the capacity to be worse. Damn, that was evil.
“Okay, you can stop drooling after your blonde eye candy and get back to work,” he said cheerfully. “Truth be told, I don’t care. You can lose your job and I’ll get more money and you can sleep on the balcony. Okay?” Christian dragged Jake back to the register where he proceeded to pout.
Eye candy, my foot. He just looks good, that’s all. Why does Christian have to be such a pretty person but have such a hard heart?
“I’m not evil, if that’s what you’re thinking,” sang Christian, even though his back was turned. Jake shivered – not only was his best friend an evil bastard but he was a psychic evil bastard. Wait – then why was he thinking that so loud? Christian must be listening to his thoughts from across the room.
He looked up and aforementioned evil bastard was waving cheerily at him as he edged closer to Caleb’s table. Jake nearly screeched in horror. NO! Don’t go near him! Stay away! Caleb, run away, save yourself, it’s too late for me.
Christian tapped the other blonde on the shoulder and began whispering conspiratorially into his ear. Jake on the other hand proceeded to die of embarrassment and quickly ducked under the counter to avoid showing his uncontrollable blushing. He turned all the shades of red until he could have rivalled the reddest tomato at any county fair. To his credit, he concealed himself quite well considering how tall he was. Even though there was a very confused customer who wanted to place an order.
Christian pointed. And Caleb looked, even though he didn’t see the cowering Jake Waverly.
“Jake, stop hiding. Or I’ll reveal your secret Earthquake recipe to everyone in town,” stated Christian, smirking to himself. Of course that would get poor Jake agitated more than he already was.
He quickly stood up, accidentally hitting his head on the counter top. “Dammit, and don’t you dare tell anyone that recipe or I’ll…” he trailed off into silence when he saw Caleb laughing silently at him. He flushed a darker red, almost as red as his hair if that was even humanely possible. “Uh, I’m just going to go get milk from the store because I think we’re all out,” And with that, he proceeded to run off, like the coward that he seemed to be.
Christian smiled. Of course he enjoyed interfering with his best friend’s life. God knows he needed one.
-
Jake walked warily back to the coffee shop, arms laden with bottles of milk. He was about to let himself in the back door when it suddenly swung open, revealing Christian who was grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat.
“Hey Jake, you’ll never guess what I did,” he cried cheerily, a glint in his eye. And everyone who knew him knew that if you were the recipient of that glint – you just might or might not regret it. That glint always meant that he was up to something.
“What did you do,” asked Jake, anxious as a cornered rat. “In fact, if it’s something that might utterly destroy me – then I’m not sure I want to know,”
“Don’t be silly, it isn’t bad. It’ll only destroy you if you screw it up,” Christian looked thoughtful for a split second. He quickly broke out into a grin. “I gave Caleb your cell number. And persuaded him to call you some time,”
Jake thought he was going to die right there on the spot.
END CHAPTER
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