*Oliver POV*

Sundays were the best and the worst.

They were the best and the worst because of work.

They were the best because they were busy, but that’s also why they were the worst. We got the post-Sunday school rush from the five churches surrounding the block and the too tired students trying to finish assignments before Monday deadlines.

They were the best and the worst because school was the next day.

Sundays were their own beast.

It was on Sunday when I first met him.

______________________

I tightened my apron’s knot in front of me and checked to make sure all the pins I sewed on were still there as I enjoyed the last moments of peace before the usual rush. The cafe was peaceful, with soft lo-fi playing on the radio. It was barely discernible above the clattering of coffee cups and espresso machine parts. Those clangs and pounds created their own tune that seemed at home amongst the chill tune playing on the speakers. My feet were already aching in my boots. I really needed to just sacrifice looks and wear some tennis shoes. I sat at one of the janky tables that may have been older than I was, checking my email for last-minute school updates. Nothing. Which was good news.

11 AM tolled and the post-Sunday school rush trickled in. In ten minutes, it was going to be a stampede. Betty came around the corner with her mountain of artificially red hair bouncing with her steps. She sailed around the tables with an old coffee pot in hand and black kitten heels on her feet. You could track her through the cafe from just the sound of her heels tapping against the old faux tile floors.

A gaggle of girls called me over with flirty grins. I headed over with pen and paper in hand.

“Ready to order, ladies?” I said, throwing on my work smile.

They all smiled back. There were four of them, most likely old school friends judging by the matching keychains dangling from their phones.

They nodded. Two ordered house coffee while one ordered water and the last one ordered hot tea. I took them all down, but, before I leave, one girl, the most timid of the group, grabbed my attention with a nervous finger in the air. The other three were all grinning ear to ear.

“Actually, Oliver, I had a question,” she said quietly. I turned back and gave her my full attention, eye contact and all. A faint blush covered her cheeks but her eyes never left mine.

I ended up getting her number, much to the delight of her girlfriends. I accepted it with a polite smile and corny joke before folding it up and putting it into my apron.

Those girls had been there plenty of times. I had even begun picking up on their names. I guess that’s what happens when you have pseudo regulars at a small cafe in a ‘small’ college town. I think one of those girls was in my class last semester. Maybe? I don’t know, I just go to class then bounce. It was just GE so why would I sit and chat? It’s not like I was going to be continuing to take classes with any of the people in a 200 person lecture hall.

Betty gave me a knowing grin as I pass by her in the service station to snatched the other coffee pot, a cup of iced water, fill a small kettle with hot water, and grab the small dish full of prepackaged tea bags. I balanced them all on a cheap, metal platter from the pile of clean ones stacked next to the aging coffee machines.

“Another one?”

“Maybe?”

“Well,” she said, “aren’t you a little charmer?”

“Yeah, I just can’t keep the masses away,” I said with a cartoon-like smile.

Betty chuckled, showing her fledgling crow’s feet. “Okay then kid, get back to work.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said before coming back to the girls and giving them their drinks.

I went around the small space helping our varied crowd. I saw a lot of jeans ripped at the knees and tank tops with bright stripes of color.

The floral dresses and dress shirts began to appear more rapidly. Old women and whining children alike came into the small space in droves. Betty’s heels clicked and clacked like no one’s business. She was a woman on a mission. I headed over to a table of overly permed women spouting on about the great message they just left to a couple ready to fight.

I stopped at that last table. It was a really pretty girl whose perpetual soft smile is dotted by a myriad of light brown freckles. Her auburn hair went down her back like some kind of free-flowing waterfall. The guy she was with wasn’t hard on the eyes either. He’s not as objectively pretty as his date, but he’s cute with shaggy dirty blonde hair and legs so long that he has to cross his ankles beneath the table a little. I took their order: french toast for her and Eggs Benedict for him. Coffee for her, tea for him. Huh, another tea drinker? We didn’t get too many of those. She’s wearing a lanyard for one of the A Capella groups on campus. They must both go there.

The rush came and went, the only ones really left in the cafe were ladies on brunch, young couples, and students. Those girls luckily left not long after the rush. They always called me over a lot. It’s a bit of a pain, but they brought business so I can’t really complain. I finally took my break and removed my apron. I folded it beside me, with the cafe’s all too familiar logo decidedly placed face down onto the seat next to me. I grabbed myself a cup of coffee and two creamers.

Betty zipped by, she just got off her break. She’s just raring to go. I was just happy that Mike was the most chill boss on the planet and didn’t force us to stay in the broom closet of a break room we had. I sipped on my coffee and search through social media while I did my customary people watching.

The attractive couple was still here. I’m surprised, I think it had been the better part of an hour. Their plates had been discarded to the side. I should’ve really taken those from them by then. There were notebooks in front of them. She apologized when she accidentally touches his leg. First date, maybe?

I didn’t know. They seemed pretty familiar with each other.

Oh well.

I directed my attention to the old guys laughing over a football game. They had been making fun of the referee and some guy named Eddie for a while now. It’s amazing just how much old guys can talk.

Betty tapped on the table with her long acrylic nails. “Enough daydreaming,” she said while balancing a tray covered in full water glasses. I put my logo covered green apron and got back onto the floor.

Most of the rush was gone. I could actually hear the cafe’s radio. Those two were still there with empty mugs. I walked over with a coffee pot in hand.

“Doing well?” I said with my work smile. The guy smiled back and the girl was gleaming. They didn’t seem to have that nervous energy that most first dates have. What are they to each other?

“Yeah, but can I have some more coffee though?” said the girl with a toothy grin.

“Of course,” I said before refilling her cup.

The girl squinted at me for a moment before smacking her lips a little. “Wait, I know you.” I raised an eyebrow as I brought the coffee pot back to my side. The guy looked at her with straightened lips. He was leaning back in his seat. Did he recognize me earlier? Come to think of it, I still hadn’t really heard him speak beside taking his order.

I looked at the girl more closely. Maybe I had walked past her a number of times? I wasn’t sure. She was pretty cute, so I would think that I would recognize her from class. I would think unless she’s one of those overachievers who sat in the front row of the big auditorium.

“Yeah, were you in Professor B’s English class last semester?”

I nodded. Of course, it was the big GE class that she saw me in. I can’t believe I actually stood out to her though. “You too?” I said motioning to the both of them.

“I was,” the girl said, “but he wasn’t.” She says while pointing a thumb in the guy’s direction.

He shrugged. “It didn’t fit in my schedule anyway,” he said quietly. He seemed like the type to not have an outside voice.

She pouted her cheeks playfully then chuckled. “Don’t worry. I know, I know. You tested out anyways,” She turned to me. “Anyways, I’m Amber.”

“Daniel,” said the guy with a nod.

“Oliver,” I said before noticing a couple of old regulars shooting me daggers from their eyes. “Anyways, it was nice meeting you two, but I should get going.”

“Yeah, we should be heading out to,” Amber said while sipping from her coffee, “see you around?”

“See you,” I said before heading off to the regulars. I saw them pay at the counter and leave the cafe. I guess I’ll see them on campus Tuesday. I still didn’t understand why we started school in the middle of the week.

_________________________________________________

*POV: Daniel*

Sundays were alright.

They were alright because school was the next day.

They were alright because Dad was off at the church, leaving me to do homework.

They were alright because the neighborhood got lazy, almost like a small farming town, except we’re just the corner of a big city.

They were alright because it was usually one of my only free days amongst the craziness of college assignments and work.

It was usually when Amber came over with some random way to spend the day.

It was a Sunday when I met him.

_______________________________________

Amber guided me into the little hole in a wall a few blocks from campus. The strong smell of espresso hit me as soon as she opened the door. A small bell announced our presence. It was surprisingly busy, but Amber managed to snag a booth near the window, not quite next to it though.

It was a cozy place whose history was definitely etched into every piece of dented furniture and cheap fixes. The wooden floors were faded from heavy foot traffic and sun exposure. There were small speakers wedged into corners, partially hidden by fake greenery. Amidst the fake vines, were pictures highlighting historic moments in our little town and celebrities that have stopped by. Who knew so many Food Network stars and comedians liked old cafes so much. From the outside, it doesn’t look like much. The only thing of interest is the old fashioned wooden stand up sign outlining the day’s special and the cafe’s logo, a stylized Magnolia, drawn on the large window pane behind the stage stuffed against the far corner. I guess local artists performed there, which is pretty cool.

Maybe I’d check it out sometime.

Not to perform. That’d be too much.

We slid in and my knees immediately rammed against the underside of the table. I really hoped that there was no gum stuck underneath from some lazy teenager. Those were the worst days when my too long legs skid against some long forgotten gum. I sighed for relief as I felt no conspicuous bumps under the old wooden table.

It wasn’t long before a waiter came along to our table. He was a lot of unexpected almosts wrapped up into one person. He was shorter than you’d expect with the amount of presence he had. His big toothy grin made him look almost fake, but his conversation was all too real. His thick brown hair almost curled right into his eyes.

The conversation was short and sweet. Amber was putting on all the charm for the waiter who’s name had already escaped my mind. I was never very good with names.

As I drank my second cup of tea for the day, I couldn’t help but think of his deep brown eyes. Usually, people only become fixed on the bright eye colors, but I felt that no one truly appreciated the beautiful simplicity of dark eyes.

The food came quickly, but I couldn’t help but notice Amber’s wandering eyes. Wandering where? Of course to our kind waiter’s ass. I simply ignored it. Though it was a bit of a nice view.

I tried to keep my eyes on my plate as much as possible.

I stretched as soon as I got into Dad’s old pickup. Amber climbed into the passenger seat and immediately turned on the FM radio to a pop station. I turned on the ignition, the whole truck shook as the engine came to life and the AC blew hot air in our faces. She scratched at the peeling skin from under her tank top’s strap as I pulled out of the parking lot.

“See?” Amber said with her signature, freckle speckled smile, “I told you it was nice.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. It was pretty quiet for a Sunday morning. Can’t really complain.”

She stretched and braided her hair over her shoulder. My hands clenched as I pulled onto the freeway. I still didn’t like going onto it. Everyone goes 90 when the limit is 65.

A comfortable silence fell upon the car, only the soft lyrics of some new love song and the rolling of the wheels over tired pavement filled the air. Amber started tapping her foot after a few minutes. She was done with quiet hour. I guess she really couldn’t stop talking for all that long. That was fine by me. She did the talking for me, and I didn’t mind that one bit.

“He was nice, huh?” she said while staring at the passing scenery.

“Who?”

“That waiter,” she said, looking at me slightly annoyed, “What was his name? Oliver? Yeah, Oliver!”

“I swear, how did you even remember his face. Wasn’t that class in the Main Hall? I’ve only had one class in there and it was far too much.”

“Hey, he isn’t hard on the eyes, okay?” she said indignantly. She crosses her arms with a smile.

“A crush?”

“Maybe a small one,” she said with an exaggerated shrug, “ I don’t know anything about him, but he seems nice.”

“Yeah,” I said thinking back to the small interaction. He was pretty cute. My hands clenched around the steering wheel even more. My knuckles started to ache.

Amber shook off her act and looked at me with her discerning honey-colored eyes. She could decipher any and all body language with those eyes. She was taking criminology for a reason. She would be a great interrogator. The nice kind. The kind who always plays the good cop with her girl next door persona. “You okay?” she said quietly. She touched my shoulder the same way she had since when we were kids.

I took in a silent breath. I couldn’t tell her anything. I couldn’t give her any indicators. “Yeah, just a bit tired. I have a lot of summer readings to get done before Tuesday. The micro teacher is ruthless and wants a research paper done in a couple of weeks. I don’t want to procrastinate on it.”

“Is it that one lady in the bio department with the curly white hair?”

I nodded.

“Ew, good luck with that.”

“I’ll try not to die.”

Before long, I dropped off Amber in front of the music building for her rehearsal. A gaggle of girls were waiting for her by the door with music sheets in hand.

She should really get her car up and running again. I didn’t want to be Uber for the whole semester.

It’s not like Dad actually cared if I did though. In fact, he’d probably be glad. He’d be glad that I was spending more time with a girl, even if it was just Amber. He would probably be happy if I got with her.

She was good.

And kind.

Didn’t party.

Didn’t drink.

Didn’t smoke.

Sometimes went to church which is more than me.

She was a good fit into the mold of the family, unlike myself.

Dad didn’t need to know that though.