Chapter Text
“Oat iced latte for Stacy?” Emma called out, her voice monotonous and droning.
At this point, listing off names and orders had just become white noise even when she was doing it herself.
Day in, day out; her shifts at Beanie’s never grew any less painstakingly boring.
Emma made coffees, she heated up stale pastries and occasionally, if she could be bothered doing so, she emptied the dishwasher & wiped down tables.
Although she usually left the most menial tasks for Zoey to do.
Ya’know, considering she apparently wasn’t able to call out orders because she was on fucking vocal rest .
Again. Just like she constantly was.
It confused Emma to no end how Nora fell for all that, but she did.
And Emma needed this job too badly to complain and risk getting fired for ‘not co-operating as a constructive member of the team.’
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.
There was a beat of silence after Emma called out the order once again.
No Stacy in sight to grab her oat iced latte.
She was one of those cheerleaders from Hatchetfield High, not exactly the smartest girl in town, so Emma had to wonder if she had gotten distracted by something particularly shiny and walked away.
With a sigh of exasperation, Emma set the drink down on the counter and moved back behind the register.
“Not having fun?”, someone asked, a teasing lilt to their voice, and her head shot up.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Black Coffee,” Emma replied with a smirk as she adjusted the back tie of her apron.
Paul.
Emma felt all of her frustration freeze and fall away momentarily. She didn’t have to try and put on a palatable, customer service smile around Paul. Everything just came easy around him in that regard.
“The one and only,” Paul said with a casual shrug before digging into the pockets of his work pants.
“Dude, no,” Emma insisted, waving a dismissive hand, “it’s on the house, you know that.”
Technically, she wasn’t supposed to give out free coffees - her own personal employee discount was capped at 50% and for friends and family it was 15%.
But that was ridiculous in Emma’s eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like she was swimming in friends or family to give free coffees away to anyways.
Paul was the exception.
It was the least she could do for her boyfriend after all.
Boyfriend.
They had made it official ages ago now, right after Emma’s last birthday.
But she struggled at times to use the word internally when she thought about her and Paul.
Boyfriend and girlfriend.
It made it all feel very real. Permanent.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just don’t want you to get fired because of me,” he replied with a laugh and an eye roll. “I don’t think we could afford rent on just my paycheck considering we’re eating water soup with ice croutons for dinner.”
Emma snorted, taking one of the take-away cups from their stack so she could make Paul’s thankfully simple order as she spoke.
“You say that like you weren’t living by yourself, like, three months ago.”
Mainly because Emma just kept finding excuses to not move in for ages, but that was besides the point.
“Touché, Perkins, touché.”
With a triumphant smirk, Emma handed Paul his coffee.
A love heart was drawn on the side of the cup in Sharpie.
Neither of them had said it yet. In Emma’s opinion, they hadn’t needed to. It was unspoken. But Emma could sense it was getting close.
Paul wanted normal relationship things.
And why shouldn’t he?
Paul looked over his shoulder to check if a line had built up behind him. It hadn’t.
He then cleared his throat in a way that alerted Emma that he wanted to bring up something serious. And Emma knew exactly what that was going to be.
“So, uh, did you talk to Tom about this Friday?”
Where was that nerdy prude with the hot chocolate order when you needed him?
“I texted him,” Emma said, not making eye contact with Paul. Which he would have noticed considering how Emma had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes with the good foot he had on her. “He said he was going to head up to Sycamore with Tim. It didn’t sound like I was invited.”
Jane had been buried in the cemetery in Sycamore a couple of years ago.
It would have been her birthday on Friday.
Paul frowned, taking a sip of his coffee.
“You’re her sister, I don’t know if they can just not invite you to her grave.”
Emma let out a huff, taking the abandoned oat iced latte from the counter and idly mixing around the ice with the straw.
“I know. But I can visit her whenever I want, I saw her on my birthday. Tom never sees her. Not that I care about that, but I want Tim to get to know her. And his dad should be the one doing that.”
Tom and Emma had gotten on well enough before Jane had died. Nowadays, they barely spoke. Paul had suggested it was because Emma reminded him too much of Jane, but Emma thought that was bullshit.
She thought it was because he knew .
Emma had told Jane about her secret when she first realized it, made her promise not to tell anyone.
And then once Jane met Tom and had a perfect life with a perfect house and a perfect kid together, Emma had just…
Well, suffice it to say, Emma had to wonder if Jane had broken her promise and told Tom. And if Tom just watched on in judgment as she fucked up her entire life.
Whatever.
Tim still deserved to know about his mom.
Tom shouldn’t deny him of that because he was fucked up and repressed and refused to see a therapist.
“I guess so,” Paul said, clearly unconvinced. “But if you change your mind and want me to drive you off, I’ll ask Bill to cover for me at work.”
Emma gave a soft smile at that.
God, he was too good. He was everything a girl could want in a guy.
Smart, kind, generous, good looking, half-decent job.
If only he wasn’t….
Well, a guy.
But that was fine. Emma didn’t think about that stuff anymore. She was able to power through it.
They’d been together for a year.
She had just been…confused when she was younger.
God, she hated how that sounded. It made her sound like one of the members of that insane Chasity family, the one where Emma was convinced everyone in that house was gay but they all pretended they weren’t.
But it was different for Emma!
It had to be.
“I appreciate it,” Emma said, before sighing as she noticed that Stacy girl had finally found her way back. And just after Emma had taken two long sips from her order.
She quickly grabbed the oat milk, splashed some more on the top and switched out the straw.
There. She’d never notice.
People didn’t even notice when she spat in the drinks.
“Well, I’ve got to head back to the office, but I’ll see you tonight,” Paul said. Emma noticed that he hadn’t put in an order for any of his co-workers, meaning he had just come here on his own accord. Not a lot of people in Emma’s life had ever done things of their own accord for her before.
“See ya,” Emma parroted before leaning over the counter and pulling herself up onto her tip-toes.
It had become a tradition now. Kissing goodbye.
Paul met her half way, bending down just enough for Emma to reach.
It was short and sweet, but it still never failed to make Emma’s stomach twist up.
It was fine. She was fine. This was all fine.
As Paul turned and left, the sound of that stupid door chime ringing out after him, Emma took a deep breath.
It had been getting harder lately. Harder to not just grab him by the shoulders and shake him, screaming out the truth.
What only Jane had known.
“Jane, I’m gonna tell you something but you need to promise me it’s just between you and me, okay?”
“Of course, Em. What is it?”
“Hi, was that iced latte mine? For Stacy?”
Emma was shaken from her thoughts by the girl’s voice and she handed over the drink without saying anything.
The kid never tipped, so Emma didn’t bother with any customer service bullshit.
Beyond the handful of people sitting at the tables on their laptops and phones, Beanie’s was pretty dead so Emma dug her own phone out of her back pocket.
Zoey would be back from her break in fifteen minutes. Damnit.
She didn’t have any notifications beyond reminders that her period started in a few days and that she had some unopened emails.
And, of course, the reminder of; Upcoming Event - Jane’s Bday (In Two Days)
“I’m gay, Jane. I’m a lesbian.”
“It’s okay. It’s between you and me, Em. I’ve got you.”
There was a violent throat clear, free of any and all subtlety, that caused Emma to shoot her head up from the screen.
Oh, great. That guy who was always in a hurry to do nothing of importance and his stupidly complex order. Nora had written it down on a sticky note next to the register, yet he always insisted they had made it wrong.
With a forced smile, Emma tucked her phone back into her pocket.
She didn’t have time to think about any of that stuff.
Thankfully.
God, she really needed to light one up after this.
“Emma!” Nora’s voice rang out from behind her, “I’m pretty sure that gentlemen just tipped for a song.”
And maybe she’d burn the whole of Beanie’s down with her when she did.
By the time Friday rolled around, Emma was still keeping the whole ‘burn Beanie’s to the ground’ idea in the back of her mind.
The day had been just as slow and uneventful as Emma imagined it would have been.
Working on the anniversary of her sister’s death wasn’t worth the mere cents in tips Emma was getting. But, damnit, if she didn’t really need every single cent she could get.
When the days behind the coffee counter blurred together like they typically did, even the smallest change in routine was a welcome change.
There was only so much of standing around and singing shitty 32 bar cuts that Emma could take. Sure, the days would be broken up by Paul stopping by, but even that was to be expected nowadays.
Emma picked at a hangnail, eyes drifting to the door every few moments. Paul would be here soon. At least then she’d have someone to actually talk to.
Saying that, if the first few hours in the morning as they both got ready for work were going to foreshadow anything, it was that Paul was going to treat her with kid gloves.
Not on purpose, of course. He just happened to take on a certain tone of voice when he spoke about Jane that Emma was able to see right through.
She called him out on it when it did occur, but it wasn’t exactly like Paul could stop something he wasn’t really aware he was even doing in the first place.
It certainly didn’t help that Emma was on edge in a general sense already. Tom hadn’t replied to her message asking if they’d gotten to the cemetery safe. He’d left her on read.
She didn’t think Tom even knew that was a thing, but it still fucking sucked.
The door chime brought Emma’s eyes back to the entrance again.
No Paul.
Just some mousey looking girl with glasses covering most of her face. She certainly looked familiar, but it wasn’t like her entrance brought her any type of excitement.
And with Zoey currently behind the coffee machine, Emma knew she wouldn’t even get away with fucking with this girls drink in any way in order to spice things up.
She’d have to actually do her job.
Ugh. Gross.
With a resigned huff, Emma watched the girl come up to the counter.
There was something about the way the girl hesitated, her eyes darting nervously around the menu sign that was hung up on the back wall, that hit Emma with a pang of genuine curiosity.
"What can I get you?" Emma asked, her voice a little softer than it had been all morning. Mainly because she was convinced if she spoke any louder that she’d scare the girl off.
Still, she started with eyes wide, as if she hadn't realized anyone had noticed her.
“Oh! Uh, yes, just a second…”
She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jacket and fumbled around with it. Whatever it was she was looking for seemed to be taking longer than expected by the way she let out a nervous giggle.
Emma actually felt a little bad at how flustered the girl seemed. A rare occurrence. A once in a lifetime occurrence actually. Emma’s emotions towards worked up customers had never been a sympathetic one before.
The girl’s face began to turn red, her fingers tapping away at her screen at a rapid pace and her breath picking up. “S-sorry, just give me one more moment, I’m on a coffee run for work and I wrote a list, I swore I did-”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Emma interrupted as she tried to diffuse this girl’s anxiety. “What was your name?”
The girl took a deep breath. “Melissa, my name is Melissa,” she, Melissa , said, fidgeting with the frame of her glasses.
The longer Emma looked, the more she deduced that she was actually kinda pretty. In a not-trying-too-hard kind of way.
“Okay then, Melissa,” Emma said, picking up one of the blank coffee cups from the stack by the register in one hand and a sharpie in another, “Why don’t I start with you . What can I get you ?”
Melissa slid her phone back into the pocket of her jacket and took a deep breath.
“I’ll just grab a black coffee with one sugar, please.”
Emma responded with a nod, writing the order down on the side of the cup.
“There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Part of Emma’s mind scolded herself at that response. Did she sound too passive aggressive? Dismissive?
She didn’t typically care if customers thought she was cold or unfriendly. But Melissa seemed kind of fragile.
Emma could mark this up as her one good deed of the day.
Suddenly, Melissa let out a small gasp of realization and quickly reached into the other pocket of her jacket, pulling out a crumpled up sticky note.
Her face turned pink with embarrassment. “God, I’m so dumb. I wrote it down on paper so I wouldn’t have to try and find it in my notes app,” she explained as she unfolded the note.
Emma couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that, but followed it up with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“Hey, it’s all good. I’ve been there. How about I take that and you can just sit down and wait?”
Once the paper had been passed over - a pink sticky note in the shape of a cat - Emma was hit with a wash of familiarity.
Caramel frappe, iced chai, and a black coffee.
She knew that combination of orders like the back of her hand at this point.
“You work with Paul, right? Paul Matthews?”
Melissa cocked her head to the side in mild confusion, brows slightly furrowed.
“I’m Emma, I’m Paul’s girlfriend,” Emma quickly clarified.
Melissa’s face morphed into a smile at that, and she gave a shy nod as she put a face to the name.
Emma placed the now labeled cups next to the coffee machine to avoid having to acknowledge Zoey and turned back to Melissa. “You’re the chick on the softball team, aren’t you?,” Emma asked. “I think we met once, and that nightmare office holiday party last year.”
That night had been painfully awkward. Emma and Paul hadn’t been together for that long then, and neither of them had realized until they arrived that no one else in the office was planning on bringing a plus one.
She’d spent most of the night at the open bar while Paul profusely apologized. He hadn’t done anything wrong, he just felt bad for putting her in the weird position of having to be referred to as ‘Paul’s girlfriend’ by a bunch of strangers all night.
They hadn’t really been labeling the relationship yet at that point.
But Emma vividly remembered two things about that party; how much she wanted to punch that fucking smirk off of Ted’s smug face, and the girl who kept asking everyone about the company softball league.
She wasn’t so sure why that second memory stuck in her head the way it did.
“Yeah, that would’ve been me,” Melissa said, shaking Emma from her thoughts and thrusting her back to reality. “I knew Paul was dating one of the baristas here, but I wasn’t sure if it was you. I’m not great at remembering faces.”
As she spoke, Melissa fished out a twenty dollar bill and held it out to Emma, who responded with a shake of her head.
“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. I never make Paul pay, and you’re his stand in for the day.”
Melissa hesitated for a moment, looking down at the money and then back at Emma with slight concern.
Emma looked over her shoulder in an exaggerated fashion before turning back to face Melissa and leaning over the counter. “I’ll let you in on a secret - I still get my minimum wage paycheck regardless of if I take your money or not,” she said in a dramatic stage-whisper.
The giggle that Melissa subsequently let out was something out of a movie. Emma refused to believe there were girls out in the world who actually giggled. But it seemed like the proof of it was standing right in front of her.
With another small readjustment of her glasses, Melissa shifted back and forth on her heels. “Well, I’m sorry that you have to deal with unorganized me instead of your boyfriend,”
Part of Emma’s mind screamed out; ‘ please don’t apologize, I’m actually happy that it’s you’.
But she knew that was a crazy thought to have. She barely knew this girl. So she just replied with a nonchalant shrug instead.
“No, it’s nice to talk to someone new for a change. I see Paul enough outside of work, ya’know?”
The cup tray holding Melissa’s order was slid next to Emma with a huff from Zoey, and Emma was quick to take the used sticky note from before and flick the cap off of her sharpie.
“Here’s my Instagram. I, like, never use it for anything other than messages. But, yeah,” Emma said as she jotted down the account name on the blank side of the note and stuck it to the top of one of the cup lids, “You seem pretty cool. Message me the next time you’re gonna do the coffee run.”
Melissa’s face went blank and for a moment Emma thought she had done something wrong, but then the other woman’s blush proceeded to creep down her neck as she took the drinks from Emma and that corner-of-her-mouth smile returned. “No one’s ever called me cool before,” she said softly.
Paul had mentioned once before that it would probably be beneficial for her to have friends that weren’t just her weed dealers. And in some ways, he had actually helped her out in that regard by handing the trip to Beanie’s over to Melissa.
Emma would have to thank him. Tomorrow was date night after all, the perfect opportunity.