"Fernanda!"
"I'll be down in a minute!" I shouted back. Closing my tiny book of poems, I stretched with a yawn. I had been awake for a while and hadn't realized that so much time had passed. I hopped into the bathroom for a quick shower, I really wanted to write some more but I had to get ready for work. My day was already planned out, I had to do some deliveries for Jane before picking up my friend, Charlotte, and heading to work, nothing unusual about my Saturday and I liked it that way.
I got out of the shower and the sun shone brightly into my room as I pulled back the curtains and opened the window. I desperately tried to remember what I dreamt about, all I could remember was this cold, lonely feeling. My dreams were always like that, it's either I'd have a sad vivid dream or not dream at all.
"Maria Fernanda!"
Jane's voice sounded impatient, she only called out my full name when she wanted to chew me out. I quickly put on a white t-shirt, blue jeans and looked in the mirror, a girl with a slender body, dark brown hair and eyes stared back and so did the massive pimple on her cheek. I inwardly cried from frustration, putting on a pair of sneakers I prayed nobody would notice the red Mt Everest forming on my face.
When I got downstairs the kitchen air was sweet with the scent of caramel and chocolate, there were two cakes on the kitchen island and Jane was covered in flour with her blue eyes focused on making the perfect icing pattern.
"Good morning." I greeted Jane with a kiss on the cheek.
"I've been calling you for five minutes, what were you doing up there?"
"Got carried away writing." I replied pouring some cereal in a bowl, I added the milk and sat at the edge of the counter inspecting Jane's work.
"As usual, till I had to shout out your full name for you to finally appear."
"I was already on my way at that time. You should be flattered; the poem was about you."
"Sure Fernanda." Jane said with a sarcastic tone. I mean it was a lie but I was still offended that she didn't believe I'd write a poem for her, I nudged her with my elbow causing her to spill some icing.
"You're going to make me mess up the cake!" Jane complained. She pushed me off the stool and I laughed, annoying Jane was my specialty because for some reason I loved seeing her mad though a lot of people would instantly say their prayers.
Jane was a woman nobody in town dared mess with and she had openly showed that. I recalled the time we went to the store to buy a few groceries and ended up being ambushed by a group of thugs as we were heading to the parking lot, I was ten years old at the time and calmly, Jane had handed me the bag of groceries before she singlehandedly beat up the thugs. Being a kid, I did find it terrifying but I admired her even more from that day on. When we got back to the truck, she simply laughed at the look of awe on my face and told me my mother would have done even better.
Valentina Garcia, my mother, was still a mystery to me and honestly I didn't want anything to do with that woman. Jane had showed me pictures of them together and explained how good of a person she is but I would just blankly stare at the picture and couldn't help but feel a bit of resentment towards her. I just couldn't understand what was more important than taking care of her child and Jane would always reassure me telling me that my mother loved me so much but I thought if she really cared she would at least have called me and ask how I was but she never did.
My father was an even bigger mystery, Jane knew nothing of him, she had shrugged and said my mother never mentioned him. Personally, I wished Jane was my mother instead, she wasn't perfect but she was always there when I needed her and I couldn't imagine where I would be without my blonde hero. Maybe writing a poem about her wasn't such a bad idea but I wasn't going to show her, I wasn't planning on feeding her monstrous ego.
"Finally done with the decorating." Jane announced with a heavy sigh, she washed her hands and was wiping them with a towel when she turned her attention to me. "Whoa! That's some pimple you got there."
"Is it really that bad?" I hid my cheek.
"You could see it from the moon, I mean look at it... It's huge."
"Tell me your joking." I whined trying to see my reflection on the counter.
"I wish I was." Jane chuckled as she carefully packed the cakes in boxes. "Now be a sweetheart and deliver these cakes for me."
"Are you mad? You want me to leave the house with this pimple on my face?"
"The world can't stop turning because you have a pimple."
"But you said it's that bad."
"I was just exaggerating, come on, can't you take a joke? I have some pimple patches in my bathroom cabinet, go help yourself."
After a lot of arguments and laughing, I finally walked out of the front door carrying the two boxes in my hands. Jane leaned on the door frame as she watched me open the truck door, there was a look of pride in her eyes, the type that mothers have when they looked at their kids and it made me want to blush but I quickly closed the car door and started the engine. The truck roared to life and I gave her a small wave before making a perfect U-turn into the road.
I knew Jane would watch the truck till it disappeared then enter the house and binge watch "bones" even though she had three more cakes to bake, she was really lazy sometimes.
Driving into town, I dropped off the cakes and drove to Charlotte's place. I stopped outside her house and she walked out the front door.
"Hey Mimi." She greeted calling me by my pet name as she entered the truck, Charlotte was one of my closest friends. We became friends when we both found ourselves late for a writer's club we were in years back and had giggled and argued over who should enter first. Ever since then we were inseparable. She looked stunning in a short yellow summer dress, her brown skin was practically glowing and her curly kinky hair was tied in a low ponytail.
"You look stunning today, what's the occasion?" I asked suspecting something was up.
"Nothing, can't I just look good?"
"You always look good but this is the "I'm going to meet up with a boy" look."
"You know me so well." She hissed.
"Of course, now tell me what's up."
"Well it's just I heard Hunter's been frequenting the cafe lately."
I rolled my eyes and started the engine, disappointed that wasn't about anyone else. Hunter was a guy Charlotte had a huge crush on, the obsessive kind and it kind of creeped me out. I prayed that I'd never fall for a guy like that. As much as I loved romance and love poems, I had only dated one boy and that was in my final year of high school, it only lasted two weeks. The guy was the perfect boyfriend, called me every day, took me out on sweet dates but I just didn't feel the spark, that spark all the love poems I read talked about, so I ended things with him. He was shattered and it made me feel guilty for weeks. In the end I just decided that this romance thing wasn't for me, even my plans never included being someone's life partner. I usually saw my future in Paris visiting the art exhibits.
"Why don't you just walk straight to Hunter and ask him out? I mean it's that simple." I shrugged as I stopped at a red light.
"That's not how it works." Charlotte said looking at me like I just said something horrendous. "If I ask him out it's gonna be awkward. What if he says no?"
"What if he doesn't find it awkward and says yes?"
"Yeah right, I'm not taking any chances."
I parked the car at my usual spot behind the café and we entered from the back door. When we got inside, we put on our aprons and waited for our shift to start. The cafe was busy that day, the orders were piling up and I could tell it was going to be a long day.
"Hello Fernanda, early as always I see." Our boss, Jerry, smiled. Charlotte cleared her throat trying to grab his attention. "Charlotte as well? I'm surprised to even see you here. Has our ankle healed already?"
Charlotte was notorious for not showing up for work and making up lame excuses for it and I laughed but stopped when I saw the look of disapproval, she gave me.
"I'm just messing around." Jerry laughed. He was one of the nicest people I knew, always smiling and cracking jokes. He had these dark smiling eyes and an unruly mop of curly brown hair that he somehow pulled off. He was a bit older than we were, I had never asked so I assumed he was in his mid-twenties.
"Well Molly and Brad just left." Jerry said checking his watch. "Which means your shift starts now." He gave us both high fives as we left the back and notebook and pen in hand, we started off taking orders. I couldn't say I loved my job, but it wasn't that bad, I loved the fresh scent of coffee and pastries the cafe always had and the friendly customers who'd always start engaging conversations. What I didn't like were the busy days when I'd leave with my feet sore, and that day happened to be one of those days. After an hour of nonstop serving, I finally got a minute to take it easy by the counter and Charlotte joined me.
"I think I might go home limping today." I winced.
"The least the universe could do for me is bring Hunter here." Charlotte sighed.
"Do you really think about anybody else?" Our friend, Sandra asked from behind the counter. She was fixing her half black, half blonde hair into a ponytail. Sandra had dyed her hair that way in our first year of high school and every girl was envious because she really pulled off the Cruella de Vil look, and it made any simple hairstyle look great and since then she had always dyed her hair that way. I couldn't even remember the natural color of her hair.
"Well, nobody isn't as hot as he is." Charlotte replied. I put my hand to my face in frustration and shook my head.
"How about that guy?" Sandra asked pointing at a man who had just got in the cafe. I felt myself go weak, he was tall with dark hair and grey eyes, his muscular structure barely contained in his white shirt, he looked expensive and so out of place in the little cafe that people couldn't help but throw glances at him. He made his way to the table at the corner, sat down and picked up the menu.
"Who's going to take his order?" Sandra asked us, the two waitresses who hadn't taken our eyes off him since he came in.
"You go Charlotte." I nudged her.
"Why me? You go." Charlotte pushed me towards him. I couldn't believe I was nervous about serving a customer. It's just some guy anyway. I thought trying to fight the butterflies in my stomach.
"Fine." I agreed. I grabbed my pen and notebook then walked to his table. Good Lord, he's even better looking up close. I thought as I studied his features, his grey eyes moved from the menu to me.
"Are you waitresses always fighting over who serves a customer?" He asked his voice deep and intimidating . I felt myself blush to my roots, all the courage I built up disappeared, not to mention the slight moisture I felt between my legs, I composed myself trying to fight his dominating presence. He cocked up an eyebrow waiting for me to speak.
"Uh no, sorry about that. May I take your order?"
"Coffee. Black. No sugar."
"Nothing else?"
"If I wanted anything else I would have said so."
I blushed again before going to give in his order. The two girls at the counter stared at me, anxious to hear about my traumatizing experience.
"Why are you looking at me like that? I just took his order." I shrugged hoping they hadn't noticed the way I lost my composure back there.
"We want details." Sandra and Charlotte said in unison.
"Well, he's not friendly at all."
"I'm not surprised." Charlotte said glancing at his table. He was on the phone and was calmly talking to the person on the other line. "That's the thing with men who think they're such big shots."
"Well Fernanda, here's his coffee." Sandra said passing it to me, I took it to him and turned to leave.
"Wait."
"Sorry, you needed something?"
"Are you from here?"
"Yes, I've lived here all my life."
"Are your parents from here?"
That was a personal question. I wondered if it was okay to answer the complete stranger who wasn't exactly the friendliest, but then again it was about my parents who I didn't really care about.
"I don't know my parents, never met them both."
He nodded and returned to his coffee ignoring my existence once again. I returned to my work, serving other customers, a few times I'd find him staring at me and it made me feel uneasy.
He left after finishing his coffee and I went to go clean his table. No tip, well I wasn't expecting a tip, but I found his card under the cup
