Chapter Text
“This is a love song for a girl who will never know it’s about her.
I know it’s pretty stupid, but I’m much too shy to tell her.” Looking Out for You by Joy Again
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“Iced or hot?”
The regular glanced toward the windows with an awkward half-smile, taking in the beating summer sun. “Hot.” He gave a small shrug and a hint of a self-deprecating laugh.
This was why she always had to ask. She could never pin this guy down. MJ pressed her lips together and nodded, marking the cup. “One hot caramel latte, oat milk. That will be $6.50.” She looked up from the register expectantly.
“Oh, right!” The guy jumped as though hearing a total was some great surprise and fumbled in his backpack. MJ was used to this; the guy was cute enough, but weird. She looked behind him, but there was no line and no one even passing on the street. The clock caught her eye as she shifted her weight. Only one hour left in her shift.
Carmel Latte had finally managed to extract his wallet, a scuffed black cloth thing which she happened to know contained an Umbreon Pokemon card in the slot where a normal person would put an ID. She always tried to catch a glimpse of it when he paid, amused as he tried to hide it every time.
This time, he seemed to have the art perfected, slipping out a ten without even a glimmer of the words “feint attack” listed under the Pokemon’s moves. She was pretty sure it was a shiny card. MJ counted out his change, pretending not to notice the way he blushed when her fingers brushed his palm while passing his quarters. She didn’t know if he was just an awkward guy or if he had a crush on her. If it was the latter, he’d had two years to make a move and never done it. She remembered messing up his order when she was brand new, leaving out the espresso, but he hadn’t come back to have them fix it.
“We’ll have it ready at the end.” She even opted for a half-hearted smile, one she didn’t bother with for most customers, especially not an hour before close. Her boss was always on her to be more friendly, but perhaps he was growing tired of her comments about the misogyny of expecting effusiveness from female staff or the fact that she was paid to make coffee, not friends. It had been a while since he’d scolded her.
Caramel Latte lit up like a neighborhood on Christmas, all goofy smile and messy brown curls. “Thanks!” he said before sidling down to wait for his drink. If he were a few years younger, she bet his voice would have just cracked spectacularly. She sighed mentally. How had he made it this far in life with such optimism? She didn’t know if it was inspiring or terrifying.
MJ was just knocking out the portafilter when the ring of the entry bell interrupted her process. She nodded in a compromise for the cheery “welcome” her boss preferred. The new guest was a petite woman with tell-tale tracks of blurred mascara all over her cheeks who was making audible attempts to steady her breath.
A visitor for me, then, MJ thought.
Just the distraction she needed to push this last hour along.
She knocked the steam pitcher to flatten the bubbles and poured the milk before sliding the latte to the end of the bar. She barely heard the “thank you” before turning back to the recently heartbroken blonde, who hesitantly approached the register. MJ nodded to her, not unsympathetically.
“You look like you’re here for the thorn brew,” she said.
The woman gasped, eyes wide and alarmingly blue against her ruined mascara. “I wasn’t sure if it was legit, but now I’m desperate.”
MJ nodded again. Leading a word-of-mouth business as a professional break-up advisor wasn’t exactly what she’d planned when she’d interrupted two customers venting about their love lives, but it had spiraled out of control. Now the word was out that if you went to the cafe by the laundromat and asked for the thorn brew, a relationship master would give you fool-proof break-up advice for a mere twenty dollars. Evidently, MJ’s brand of cynicism and cold analysis of human behavior made her excellent at providing people compelling excuses to escape their latest love entanglements. Reviewers raved that taking her advice would remove all resentment and at least thirty percent of awkwardness from the dreaded conversation.
Most of her customers were cheaters and liars, so she reasoned that it was in the other party’s best interest to get dumped. And she got to watch human trash squirm. It was probably bad for her faith in humanity. She should really consider starting an app.
MJ wiped her hands on her apron and set out the break sign. It was a slow evening, and her boss was out. “Of course. Let’s see if we can’t turn that frown upside down.”
Hopefully, someone would have to know her to hear the layers of sarcasm in her voice as led the woman over to a table, hoping to forestall any renewed tears. She registered vaguely that Carmel Latte was the only other customer in the shop and likely to overhear the whole conversation, but doubted he would tattle on her for taking money on the job. Maybe her anti-love side business would even crush his silly crush, if that’s what it was.
The woman perched on the edge of her seat as though she might take flight at the slightest movement. MJ leaned forward with her hands in her lap, modeling relaxation and interest for her to latch on to. “Perhaps we could start by having you explain the situation.”
Her shoulders seemed to ease a bit, and the woman took a little breath. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. So, it’s like this. There’s this…” She glanced down and up, looking to see if MJ was listening. “There’s this guy.”
“A guy.” MJ confirmed, hoping her voice didn’t sound as bored as she felt. This might take more than an hour.
“Right!” She looked buoyed by MJ’s understanding of the simple start. “Well, he started showing up to my father’s parties. Normally, I wouldn’t think a thing about that. We get new investors all the time. But, well, he was really young like me and kind of sweet, you know? Like complimenting my hair and stuff like that. Guys don’t really notice those things most of the time.”
MJ tried not to tune out, but it did feel like death by exposition. “Right, never.” She knew her voice was flat this time.
Fortunately, her customer was picking up steam. “Well, we’re kind of a thing now. And I was happy about it...”
“But?”
“But he’s been… different lately. He’s always disappearing, and he gets in these weird moods. When I try to talk to him about it, he acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. It’s like he couldn’t given a kitten’s fart about what’s going on in my head. Like I’m just his arm candy.”
MJ quickly choked down a laugh at the unique description. Perhaps she had judged this blonde too quickly. She’d been finishing the script in her head that she had found a man with a different kind of six pack from the normal kind you find at parties and had decided on more attractive pastures, but her relationship problems didn’t sound like her fault. A classic case of cheating, more likely.
MJ sat back and crossed her arms, newly invested in the problem. “And you want to break up. Do you think he would be very resistant if he’s so checked out?”
The woman sighed. “I can’t tell what’s going on in his head. I thought he really liked me, but… Either way, he’s in big with my dad now, so he’d probably stick around even if he hated me.”
The problems of the rich, MJ thought. “Ah yes, ego and power dynamics, how could I forget.” She slipped on the cynical smile that fit so comfortably.
“So I thought if there was some way to distance myself or, I don’t know, fake an illness, maybe I could get out of it without all the fall out.” The woman picked at her nails, voice getting small. “Do you think I’m just a coward?”
MJ gave her a serious look: that frazzled hair that must have been perfect curls a day ago, the mascara under her nails and the torn skin beside the perfect polish, the hint of a bruise beneath her sweater, which she wore despite the stifling summer heat. MJ sighed and pulled a napkin from the dispenser on the table to hand to the woman, who took it with furrowed brows.
MJ pointed to her own face and said, “You’ve got mascara everywhere.”
She laughed shakily and licked the napkin before rubbing at her face. “I know.” Another misjudgment. MJ would have thought the girl too vain or fussy for a saliva napkin.
“And to answer your question, no. I suspect something pushed you to this decision. And I think it took a lot of courage to come here. In fact, I won’t be taking any payment for this one.” She extended her hand. “I’m MJ. And you are?”
Face considerably neater, the woman took her hand with a firm touch and a slight smile. “Gwen.”