Soya Decaf Latte and a Vegan Muffin

I'm currently in my A2 year at college but I'm doing an extra AS in Creative Writing. This is a short story I wrote for the workshop session - let me know what you think ^.^

(Any suggestions for the title would be great!)

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“Soya decaf latte and a bran muffin,” Violet narrows her eyes. “Vegan.”

            I roll my eyes but I manage to grab a tall latte glass without throwing it at her. Okay, so because we share the same genetic make-up (although our hairstyles and typical fashion choices set us apart), we’re both lactose intolerant so neither of us has a choice but to drink and eat dairy alternatives… but does she have to insist on calling it ‘vegan’? I mean, what’s wrong with simply saying what it is: dairy-free. What’s the point in trying to sound like some stupid health freak actress from LA?

            But I’m not going to start a row; the sooner I process her order the sooner I can get her out of my sight. They say that identical twin sisters are supposed to be really close. I’d like to find out who ‘they’ are. And rip their gobbily-gook research papers into smithereens. Yeah, we’re totally BFFs.

            Although really tempting, I somehow manage not to mess up Violet’s order accidentally-on-purpose but as I’m about to tell her how much she owes, I see him.

            He catches me gawping at him a moment later. He lingers in the doorway of the coffee shop before pushing his floppy dark hair out of his blue eyes. I am the first to break eye contact and I am instantly ashamed at myself for doing so. Why do I still freak out when we cross paths? It’s been nearly a week for crying out loud! I don’t even think he remembers it was me…

            “Er, hello…?”

            Blink.

            “Huh?”

            Slowly, slowly I realise that I’m still holding a pretentious drink for my pretentious sister. And that he is now manoeuvring his away around the tables and chairs and towards the bar. I actually feel like I’m going to vom. Wordlessly I put the glass on a little saucer and shove it towards Violet, inevitably causing a bit of the drink to spill out. I duck down to grab a bran muffin (and to hide from him) but the other two baristas are too busy chatting to notice him heading this way.

            My stomach feels funny, kind of like when I’ve had dairy. Minus the wind. Oh he’ll never forget the wind. If he remembers it was me. How we were... how in the middle of when we were… No, I can’t ignore him anymore. I stand up quickly. And bang my head under the counter. Oh god, things can’t get any worse!

            “Jack! Hi!

            I stand corrected. My sister is totally outdoing herself with her bleached-hair-tossing, fake-eyelash-batting routine. I can’t believe I’m saying this but it’s kind of a good thing that he’s distracted by my sister because that means he didn’t see me head butt the counter… He’s grinning at me. He saw. But did he remember when I…

            Jack leans against the bar, smiling and joking and flirting with my sister. Violet giggles pathetically. I press my lips and gaze down at the counter, fiddling with the apron tied around my waist.

            “Um, that’s three-pounds-forty-five,” I choke out, now feeling like the pathetic one.

            They stop the playful teasing and look up. I watch as they glance at each other, and then burst out laughing at the exact same time. I die inside.

            Jack takes a deep breath to sort of regain control of his laughter. He manages to order a mocha without having another outburst.

            Violet hands me the exact change and says, “You can bring everything over, right?”

            She takes Jack’s hand and gently tugs it. He doesn’t look at her; he’s still grinning at me. Handing me a fiver he says, “Keep the change” accompanied by a smirk, before allowing my sister to lead him deeper into the coffee shop. She chooses the sofa in the dark, secluded corner. I resist the temptation to steal a glance in their direction – the low murmurs of their voices and an occasional giggle are enough torture for me. Whilst making the mocha, my ears suddenly burn.

            “I’d heard about that, of course, but I had no idea it was you,” Violet stage-whispers and, once again, giggles.

            Jack replies but I can’t hear what because unlike my sister, he can actually whisper.

            I feel the colour rise up my neck to my cheeks. The memories I’d hoped to keep in the past came flooding back.

            And now that my sister knew, everyone would know. No longer anonymous, I will be the joke of college. I make my way to the sofa in the corner. I do not make eye contact. I do not speak. I just put the tray down and leave. When I’m behind the bar I look over. Violet gazes into Jack’s dark blue eyes and I know that he has trapped her. I know that they’ll leave and get all cuddly later.

            Violet pops a little piece of the ‘vegan’ cake in her mouth. I smile. I know that, um, things might get a little, um, windy later on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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