“Much better actually, mostly just groggy and tired. My head doesn’t feel like a balloon any more though, so that’s progress.”
“Good,” I reply lightly as I begin to climb out of my own bed. I’ve been anxious to get the day started for hours now. “Coffee run?” I suggest.
“Yes please,” Rose responds adamantly, perking up a bit. “That sounds good.”
My friend is one of those girls who runs on pure caffeine, sick or healthy. She’s practically a zombie in the morning until she gets about halfway through her first cup, and is one of the few people I know that can drink a dark roast before bed and still fall asleep at a reasonable time.
Rose pulls on a hoodie, slips on a pair of sandals, and is ready to go. Seeing my smirk at her pajama-based outfit, she shakes her head wildly at me as if to say, ‘So what?’ and I suppose she’s right.
“The PJ pants make my butt look good,” she jokes, and they do. “Coffee! Come on,” she pleads with me to hurry up.
“Okay, okay!” I throw on some leggings under my oversized t-shirt and hit the campus looking equally disheveled. You gotta love college towns because you can get away with looking like a hobo before noon. Especially on a weekend.
We walk in silence to the quad. It’s a perfect morning. Winter has finally broken, giving way to the first wave of spring. There’s still a crisp bite in the air, and yet the smell of rain is on the horizon. In just a few weeks’ time, the campus will transform into a field of green, with trees, wildflowers, and even vines showing their glory.
But right now, it’s still pretty gray and silent. I bite my lip, casting a sideways glance at Rose as we walk. My secret is killing me. However, I know it is best to wait until she has had her caffeine fix to throw out my big news.
Rose stares off into the distance as we wait in line at the coffee stand in the quad. The attendant is quite friendly and takes the time to chat up every customer when they finally reach the front of the line. Rose sniffs with annoyance. She bounces impatiently on her heels only breaking the action periodically with a large sulk as she heaves a dramatic sigh. Then she stares daggers at the friendly barista while tapping a toe.
I typically don’t mind the wait, but today the line seems to drag on for an unusually long length of time. I fold my arms over my chest, trying to fight off my own impatience. Well, at least my friend looks better today. The color has returned to her face and her eyes don’t look quite so heavy. Her poor little nose is still rather red and a hair puffy, but that’s to be expected. It’s still a great improvement from less than twenty-four hours.
“A good night’s rest really worked wonders for you, huh? You look so much better than you did last night,” I comment.
“Oh my god, yes. Thank you so much for taking over for me because I seriously needed to take a night off. Between school and work I have been running myself dry, and I truly can’t thank you enough.”
I know she really means it by the way her eyes light up as she talks.
“No problem. It wasn’t that bad,” I say tentatively.
Suddenly, my friend’s head cocks towards one side and she gets that notorious ah-hah look again, the one that I should know by now means danger. Her eyes gleam a bit as she eyes me.
“By the way, the agency said that the client paid an astronomical amount for his time with you last night. What happened? Did everything go alright?” she inquires lightly.
“Yeah, no. Everything went fine.” I want to share my news, but suddenly, I’m really nervous to do so.
She gives me a gentle shove.
“Lucy! Don’t give me that crap. Come on, tell me about it. What went down last night?” I can see curiosity eating at her, and I know I will never get away with hiding something this big from Rose, anyways. She always has a way with me.
“Well, I knew the client,” I confess, trying not to blush too heavily. Her face drops in bafflement at this admission.
“Really?” Rose asks. “Who is he?”
Just as I’m about to share Reed’s true identity, we reach the front of the line. Rose immediately turns away and belts out her order. Frankly, I’m surprised Rose doesn’t reach into the cart and pour our coffees herself.
But don’t underestimate my friend. We barely make it two steps away from the cart with our steaming fresh-brewed coffees before she’s tugging on my arm and demanding that I finish the story. She’s literally beginning to make a scene, so I gesture to a picnic table a ways across the quad and make her wait until we are seated with coffee lids off to give her the dirt from last night.