The Espressologist

18

The lights are burning on my face and I can feel sweat beading at my temple. Hope says something to the camera, has Melissa step up to the desk, and introduces her. Then they turn to face me.

"All right, Jane," Hope says. "Do your thing."

Okay. I have to think fast. I have to match Melissa with someone here. And it has to be someone compatible.

It has to be a match that actually works or I'll look like a big fat fraud on national television. What am I going to do? I need to stall. I stand up and slowly walk behind the desk and take a seat in my chair.

"Melissa," I ask, slowly, "what is your favorite drink?"

Like I don't already know.

"I simply adore" –Melissa smiles at the camera–"small nonfat lattes."

"Okay," I say. "Age?"

"Eighteen," she answers with a giggle. "Like you didn't know." I sigh heavily as I type the information in, trying to figure out what I'm going to do.

"Interesting tidbit?" Darn! My voice quivered.

"Since you asked," Melissa says, perching on my desk now and facing the camera instead of me, "I'm going to become a famous fashion designer. I'm studying at the renowned School of the Art Institute of Chicago and I've already designed these fab sparkly leg warmers PERFECT for the current leggings trend." She kicks her legs out for the camera to see. "And you can get them at www–"

"We'll cut you off there," Olivia interrupts, giving Melissa a dirty look. Ah. So that was her deal. She's trying to sell some lame-o leg warmers. What is she thinking? Leg warmers need to stay dead and buried in the eighties.

"Jane," Olivia continues, "do you have a match for Melissa?"

"Give me just a minute," I say, trying to look calm. I check the list of people I met tonight. Ugh. No one seems right for Melissa. I can maybe, possibly send her with the veterinarian but a) he's too old and b) he's too smart for her. I don't know what I am going to do.

"Ready, Jane?" Hope asks. "We are on television, you know." All the Gabby Girlz laugh. Tee hee hee. This is SO not funny, people.

"Um ..." I scan the crowd hoping for the perfect match to just fall from the sky and into the wooden barrel of stuffed holiday bears. And then it hits me. A match. It would work. But no. I couldn't. No, no, no. I just can't.

Not him. Not with her.

"Jane?" Hope prompts again, eyes wide and giving me a "hurry up" look.

"Okay ..." I start, "the perfect... um ... match for uh ... a small nonfat latte is a ..." I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "A five-shot espresso over ice."

"Ooh," Mackenzie says, like she just heard the most scandalous thing ever. "And who is that?"

I can literally feel my heart breaking into a million pieces.

"Will," I whisper, and point in his direction.

I can feel the tears stinging my eyes as Will and Melissa exchange introductions and prepare to head out for their date. Hope, Mackenzie, and Gabby thank me and say a few more words, but I don't really hear them.

Suddenly, the lights flip off me and the cameras move.

Some guys with handhelds follow Melissa and Will out the door for their date. I stand up, turn, and run out of the store.

I run and run, tears streaming down my face, for what seems like miles but is really only a few blocks. What did I do? What did I just do? How could I give over my Will to that ... that evil witch? And what was with the way they looked at each other? All pleased and stuff. Ugh, it made me want to puke all over them. That would have been fun TV I run another block and then turn around the corner so no one from the store can see me on the sidewalk.

I lean against the brick wall of a tall high-rise, breathing heavily. I really need to work out more. I slouch down to a squat against the building, pulling my dress over my legs. It's cold out and I didn't stop to grab my jacket when I sprinted away from the store.

I lay my head back against the building and look up.

I'm just under the El train track. I love the El. I've loved the El ever since I was a little girl. Whenever my mom and I or my dad and I were out running errands and we came near the El track, I would beg them to let me stand there for a few minutes and watch the trains zoom by overhead.

There was always a train rushing by every few minutes.

Lights would flash, the track would shake, and the train would make a clattering rumble as it passed. I used to think the track would break and the train would crash right in front of me and I would leap out of the way just in time.

Maybe that will happen now, only I won't be able to leap fast enough and I won't have to go back to the store. Then I won't have to see Melissa and Will ... together. I close my eyes and listen as a train goes racing past overhead.

"Hey," a male says, and I jump two feet into the air.

"I have Mace!" I scream, bracing myself for a confrontation with a mugger.

"Good. You should always be safe when you are walking alone at night," Cam says in a calm voice.

"Oh, my god, Cam, you scared the crap out of me.

And I don't really have Mace."

"Whew." He fake wipes his brow. "What happened back there?"

I pull my arms tightly around me, shivering from the cold. "Nothing."

"It didn't look like nothing," Cam says. "Everyone is wondering where you went."

"I can't go back." I shake my head as a fresh tear rolls slowly down my right cheek.

"Jane," Cam murmurs, "you can tell me. What's wrong?" He puts his right arm around me and I can feel myself weakening.

"It's just... you know I hate Melissa, right?"

"Yeah, I remember she was really evil to you that day we were studying."

"Well, Will was supposed to be, I mean, I was going to match Will–" I start to cry harder.

"Don't cry, Jane." Cam pushes my hair, wet with tears, away from my face.

We are standing really close to each other. I cry for a few more seconds.

"What about Will?" Cam asks when I'm down to a sniffle. "I was going to match Will with me tonight," I say finally. "With you?" Cam looks shocked. I nod. "But why?" I look down at the ground and mumble, "Because he's perfect."

"Perfect for you?" Cam asks. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," I say, and another tear escapes. Were both silent for a few minutes. Another train goes thundering by overhead. My lips are shivering hard now and my arms are shaking. Cam slips off his jacket, wraps it around me, and turns me toward him.

"I know that right now it doesn't seem like it," he says, "but Will is not the perfect guy for you."

"Yes, he is," I argue.

"No, he's not," he retorts.

"Well, if you know so much"–I look him straight in the eye–"then who is?" Suddenly, before I can even comprehend it, Cam is kissing me. He has both hands behind my neck, fingers in my hair, and he is giving me a warm, slow, gingery-tasting kiss. And it is good. I mean REALLY good. I don't think I've ever been kissed like this.

My toes feel warm, and not just from the run in high-heeled boots. And though I thought I'd be kissing Will and not Cam tonight, I close my eyes and just enjoy the kiss for however long it is going to last.

A few moments later Cam pulls back and my lips get cold again. He still has his hands behind my neck, but I can sense that he has pulled a few inches away. I open my eyes and stare at him, not sure what to say next. He apparently doesn't know what to say either. Well, one of us has to talk.

"Cam, I–" I begin, and then stop, stiffening as my body is filled with horror. I'm staring over Cam's right shoulder.

"What? What's wrong?" he says with concern. He slowly turns to see what, or in this case whom, I'm looking at. Em.

Cam's hands drop from my neck like I'm on fire and we both stare at her. Em is standing maybe twenty or thirty feet away, holding my jacket. She stands there for another second or two and then throws my jacket on the ground and runs back in the direction of the store.

"I have to go after her," I tell Cam.

"No, let me," he says.

"No, she's my best friend. I have to do it." I run in the same direction as Em.