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It’s just another day making coffee in Savannah, Georgia for Calliope Burns.
There’s the regular customers: the white man who always sits in the corner and gives her the creeps, the jock always wearing some sort of Lancaster Academy clothing, and the cute white girl who usually sits at a table for two with her Black (boy?)friend, although she’s alone today.
Cal is pouring milk over the mocha in front of her when she catches the creepy man stand up and approach the girl out of the corner of her eye.
She keeps an eye on the two of them as she finishes up the drink and then sets it at the end of the bar for the customer who ordered it to pick it up.
The situation doesn’t seem exactly questionable quite yet, so Cal wipes her hands on a towel and steps back from the bar. (If it gets bad quickly, she doesn’t want to be occupied).
A good choice. The man is looming over the girl now, and she looks none too comfortable.
“Do you want anything else over here?” Cal asks, stepping out from behind the counter and approaching the two of them quickly.
The man straightens but doesn’t back away; the girl looks at Cal with stars in her eyes.
“No, we’re good.” He says.
Cal simply ignores him and looks at the girl instead. “What about you?”
The girl stammers, her eyes meeting Cal’s and then flicking away.
“Sorry, what was that?” Cal steps closer to her, accidentally bumping the man as she does so.
The girl doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. It’s obvious the man is bothering her, and Cal has worked at this cafe long enough to know she won’t get in trouble for kicking out creepy men, not that that would stop her anyways.
“Alright,” Cal nods and turns to face the man. “If you’re so good, why don’t you head on outside?” she saids, nodding toward the door.
The man’s eyes flash, but Cal simply gestures towards the door. “Have a nice day.”
He grumbles but after glancing towards the counter where Apollo stands starts towards the door. Cal watches him leave then shifts to better look at the girl. “Better now?”
The girl nods. “Thank you.” Her eyes flicker to Cal’s chest, inciting a spark in her core that the girl’s next utterance dims, “Calliope.”
Shaking her head, Cal responds. “Cal. No one really calls me Calliope.”
“Why not?”
Cal raises an eyebrow, “what?”
“I just mean. It’s nice.” The girl says. “Pretty.”
“Uh huh.” Cal says. “And your name?”
“Oh,” she says. “I’m Juliette.”
“Juliette.” Cal repeats. “Nice to meet you.”
Cal walks back to the counter, but Juliette’s smile in response to her saying her name stays with Cal long after the girl leaves.