5 MADDY
MADDY
I wish I could teleport
“Double espresso to-go will be two dollars sir.”
The man hands over the cash with a polite smile, and I ring him up, already reaching for the espresso machine.
The café is quiet for a Saturday, the kind of calm lull that makes wiping down the coffee machine in Dad’s place feel almost therapeutic. Dad’s been splitting his time between here and the new cafe he’s opening a couple towns over, which means I’ve been picking up more shifts lately.
I press the “receipt” button on the register. The printer spits out a slip with the little Hazel & Bean logo at the top. I hand over the receipt and the freshly poured double espresso with a smile. “Have a great weekend.”
“You too,” he replies easily, voice warm, already halfway toward the door. I turn around and grab a cloth to start cleaning the counter.
“Who was that?” Dawn’s voice cuts through the air laced with curiosity and caffeine.
She leans against the counter beside me in her Hazel & Bean shirt, dark blue with the logo stretched across her back, apron tied loosely at her waist, eyes wide with interest.
“I don’t know,” I mutter, not looking up as I wipe down the counter. “Never seen him.”
She fans herself dramatically. “Geez. Is it always that hot in here, or is it just him?”
I shoot her a look, biting back a laugh. “You need help.”
“I need his number.”
I shake my head. I’ve known Dawn forever—her, me, Tess, and Daphne were best friends growing up, but different high schools pulled us in separate directions. We still FaceTime a lot, send voice notes at stupid hours, and plan reunions as much as we can.
These days Dawn helps out at the café whenever Dad needs extra hands, which definitely keeps things interesting.
She heads to the back room. Probably to fill up the milk in the fridges or something.
I look around to see if any customer needs anything else.
But everyone seems to be satisfied. An elderly couple is sitting in their regular seats.
Every weekend, without fail. Black coffee for both—one milk, one sugar—and a slice of our homemade apple pie they split down the middle.
Sometimes he lifts his camera when he thinks she’s not looking and snaps a picture of her anyway. It’s the sweetest thing.
Near the windows, a group of moms has settled in after dropping their sons off at football practice.
They call it catching up. But really, it’s Baylin’s most reliable source of gossip.
A couple more tables are filled, students working on their laptop, others just chatting or enjoying our great sandwiches.
The bell over the café door rings again, so I look up, and see Jacob walking in. My brain immediately forgets how words work.
He strolls up to the counter, his blonde hair neat and in place perfectly, expensive sunglasses perched between it. “Hey, Mads.”
I straighten, knocking my elbow lightly against the espresso machine in the process. “Hey,” I say too quickly. “What can I—what do you—what would you like?”
He smirks. “Still working here, huh?”
“Yes,” I say. “I mean, it’s my dad’s café. Obviously. You know that.”
He leans his elbows on the counter. “Relax. I’m just saying hi.”
“Cool,” I say immediately and he just chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “You always this tense?”
“Nope,” I lie. “Super chill. Thriving, actually.”
Jacob raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I say, already reaching for a cup. “What do you want?”
He tilts his head, giving me that stupid smirk of him. “You remember.”
God, if I could just rip that off his face and shove it up his—no, just calm down Maddy.
“Flat white,” I mutter to myself. “You do not get latte art today.”
I grind the beans, tamp too hard, then not hard enough.
The espresso machine hisses while I steam the milk and nearly overflow the cup.
I slap a lid onto the cup and slide it across the counter—only for it to stop awkwardly halfway.
So I nudge it the rest of the way forward with one finger. “That’ll be three dollars.”
He hands me a five. “Keep the change.”
I hesitate for a second, but then take it and close the register. And as I look back up, he doesn’t move right away. Just looks at me for a second, head tilted. “You look good,” he says casually.
Is he seriously trying to flirt with me?
“Uhm,” I say, nodding. “I—thanks.”
“You don't have to be nervous around me.”
“What? No. I’m not nervous.”
I shift my weight, and knock my hip into the counter, which makes him laugh softly, like this is charming. “Right.”
I wish I could teleport.
He grabs his coffee and starts backing toward the door, flashing me a quick wink, before putting his sunglasses back up. “See you around, Mads.”
“Yeah—uh—” I start. “Bye—no—”
The bell rings as he steps outside and the second the door closes behind him, I flip him off with both hands. But then, he turns around one more time. I drop my hands so fast and immediately pretend I was… uh, stretching. He just smiles and shakes his head.
“Oh my God,” I whisper to myself. “Why am I like this.”
“Is that who I think it is?”
I jump, pressing a hand on my chest as Dawn steps back behind the counter with two cartons of milk tucked under her arm, her brown ponytail swaying against her shoulder as she follows my line of sight out the window.
“Sadly yes.” I take one of the milk cartons from her.
She lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Wow. He’s lucky I was in the back,” she jerks her chin toward the window. “Because otherwise your dad would be restocking milk for very different reasons.”
That actually makes me snort despite my heart still going through the roof. I turn around to clear the mess I just made.
Just put Jacob out of your mind Maddy and continue to smile at customers.
I get home from work, and as I walk up the driveway I notice that Dad’s car is gone.
Which means that he’s probably working in the other cafe today.
Which also means that Noah’s in charge for dinner.
God help us all. As much as I love him, Noah was never made for the kitchen. But then again, neither was I.
I kick off my shoes and hang my jacket on the rack, hearing the sound of Noah rummaging around in the kitchen. “Please tell me you ordered pizza.”
Noah pops his head around the corner, holding two boxes. “Extra cheese. Pepperoni on one half, burrata on the other.”
I raise an eyebrow, changing my hair from a tight bun to a more comfortable one. “Look at you, remembering my order.”
He grins, a few strands falling over his eyebrows as he sets the boxes on the coffee table. “Yeah, yeah. One day I’ll make it into a sibling Hall of Fame.”
I flop down on the couch, not bothering to change out of my work clothes, even though I smell like coffee beans and cleaning soap.
We settle with two plates balancing on our legs as we each grab slices out of the pizza box, some ridiculous movie playing on the TV.
Halfway through the movie, my brain drifts back to Jacob.
The way he just casually tries to flirt with me now, like the last few months never happened.
I try to pretend it never hurt, because admitting how much I trusted him feels way more embarrassing than the breakup itself. But he just tells me that I look good?
“You okay?”
I blink and shake myself out of the stare to see Noah looking at me with the typical I-am-worried-about-my-little-sister-face.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He raises one eyebrow. “You can’t lie to me you know? I’m your brother.”
“Ugh, sue you and your older brother magic.”
He keeps his gaze focused on me, the teasing grin turning into a more softer expression. So I exhale, letting my shoulders loosen. “Jacob came by the cafe today. I was just a little annoyed, that's it.”
I see his jaw clench for a moment. “What did he want?”
“Coffee.”
That makes him laugh, but his seriousness remains. “Do you want me to say anything to him?”
“No, it’s not a big deal,” I say hoping he will drop it, “Let’s just forget about it and go back to eating this fucking delicious pizza, because it’s been staring at me ever since you started getting all serious.”
He lets out a low laugh and drops it, thankfully.
I reach into my pocket for my phone, half expecting to see a message from Mel or Kiara, but my fingers close around nothing. I frown and pat my other pocket. Nothing there either. “Wait,” I mumble, sitting up a little straighter. “Where’s my—” The realization hits me a second later. “Ugh.”
Noah glances over, but keeps eating his slice. “What?”
“I left my phone at the café.”
“Of course you did.”
I push the blanket off my lap and stand up, grabbing the car keys from the little bowl on the table by the door. “I’m just gonna run back and get it real quick,” I tell him, already slipping on my shoes. “I must’ve left it behind the counter.”
“Right now?”
“They’re still open tonight anyway,” I say, opening the door. “Be right back.”
“Alright,” he calls after me. “Don’t crash the car.”
I roll my eyes and step outside, the cool night air hitting my face as I head for the car.