Miss, Do I Know You?

30 - Tuesday, February 2

Those days that followed the weekend in Toronto felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air. But in stark contrast to the joy I had been feeling lately, a melancholy haze clung to the atmosphere. This day, more than any other, seemed to demand a greater effort to endure. Like I was stuck in a weird dream.

Come the afternoon, the ashen sky above had brightened a little. Initially, I had intended to head home and shed a few routine tears into my pillow, but Alex invited me to skip detention and join her for a cup of coffee. I must have nodded in agreement because the next thing I knew, we were walking down the street.

Either way, it was a much better idea than the one I'd had in mind. She took me to this hidden gem of a place nestled away in a corner, unnoticed even during my countless wanderings through the area. It was a cozy little coffee shop, snugly tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the town, with a small garden in front and a view of the neighboring park.

Confusing me, Alex came to a halt before the door. Seconds slipped by in our locked gaze until she surrendered to a laugh and held it open for me. "After you," she said, bending forward and waving a hand at the entrance in an endearing—and rather goofy—attempt to draw a smile from me.

And smile I did. Crossing the threshold with a silly grin, we were greeted by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries, and by a lovely smile from an older lady sitting behind the counter, whose face lit up as soon as she caught sight of us.

"Lex!" she exclaimed. "How are you, dear?"

"Hi, Martha. I'm good." Alex returned the lady's effervescent smile. "And you? Busy, as always?"

"As always," she said as her gaze swept around the empty space. "So, the usual macchiato with a splash of soy milk? To go?"

"Actually, we'll sit here today. Thank you."

"No hot chocolate for the little guy?"

"Gabrielle's picking him up today. But don't tell him we were here though. Hot chocolate at home doesn't hit the same, apparently."

With a sweet laugh and playful glances directed back at Alex, Martha's gaze shifted to me. "And this must be Kayla, right? How wonderful to finally put a face to the name."

Slightly taken aback, I offered a friendly smile. "Um, yeah. It's nice to meet you."

"It's a small town," she explained, sensing my confusion. "Besides, your friend here has told me a thing or two about you. She can be quite the chatterbox when you get her talking."

I turned to Alex, my gaze narrowing with playful intent, silently questioning the tales she had spun. In response, she only offered a sarcastically coy shrug.

"Only wonderful things, dear," Martha clarified. "So, tell me, how is Alex doing at school?"

"Oh, she's great," I said, my lips curling into a smirk. "Very strict, but definitely doing a good job teaching and putting everyone in their places. She's a favorite among the students too, or so I've heard."

"That's good to hear," Martha said with a kind chuckle. "I wouldn't be satisfied if whoever took over my job wasn't competent enough, so I just had to get a slightly unbiased opinion."

"You were a teacher?"

"Yes, I taught for almost forty years, but it wasn't my thing. That's why we opened this coffee shop. We don't have many customers, but we're very happy about the ones we have, like Alex here and her wonderful family. I might not admit it to her, but they are my favorite regulars."

Alex offered a timid smile. "Now you're gonna make me feel guilty for drinking coffee at home," she murmured. "And you know what? Kayla actually worked as a barista for a couple of years. Part of the reason I haven't been coming here in the mornings that much anymore."