'Hey, girls!' Two of my good friends from elementary school, Ava and Katie, walk into Wired Joe's. Now they both go to St. Pat's, a private high school. 'Quitting time,' I yell to Em, who is already gathering her things. Ava is really into drama and is the lead in the community theater's rendition of Mame. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous, she can sing circles around anyone I know. Katie wants to be an astronaut one day and already plans on doing an internship at NASA next summer. She is way, way smart.
'No rush,' Ava says. 'Can I get a quick green tea?'
'Sure.' I fill a cup with hot water and drop in a tea bag. 'You want anything, Katie?'
Katie shakes her head. 'Nah, I'm good. I was actually just hoping to catch a glimpse of the frat boys you keep talking about, Jane.'
Ah, the frat boys, Will, Grant, and Adam–total hotties. They are the nineteen-year-old Greek gods that attend the University of Illinois at Chicago and stop in almost every night after class for a drink.
Em smiles. 'You mean Jane's groupies? They didn't come in tonight. Maybe they have dates?'
'They so do not!' I say. 'Well, at least I hope Will doesn't. He's the future Mr. Turner.' All the girls erupt in laughter.
'So, why are they Jane's groupies?' Ava asks.
'Because they want only Jane to make their drinks,'
Em answers. 'I think she slips in something extra, if you know what I mean.'
'Oh, shut up!' I laugh. 'I don't even want to know what you are implying. Besides, what can I slip into espressos over ice?' Adam and Grant always order a three-shot espresso over ice and Will always orders a five-shot espresso over ice. God, he is so cool. I slip on my slim brown-suede jacket, grab my notebook, and sling my one- weeks-pay-costing coffee-colored handbag over my shoulder.
'I don't know,' Em says, 'but there has to be a reason they always want you to serve them.'
'Couldn't it just be that I'm gorgeous?' I suggest with the most serious face I can muster.
'Oh ... sure,' Em says. 'Your uniform is a huge turn-on.' Everyone giggles again.
'All right, all right, are you three ready to go?' I ask.
'Yeah, let's get moving,' Katie adds, and we head out the door into the dark to pile into her tiny red Ford Focus illegally parked on the side of the road. 'Are we going right to Jen's party?' She starts the car and pulls out onto Wabash. Jen is Katie's college friend who goes to Columbia College. Jen's parents rented an apartment for her so that she wouldn't have to slum it in the dorms.
'No. Can we stop at Em's apartment first so we can change?' I ask. Like I want to hit a party in my white turtleneck and black pants.
'No problem,' Katie says, and heads the six blocks to Em's place. When we get there Em and I jump out of the car and promise to be back shortly. We race up the two flights of stairs to her apartment and head for her bedroom. Thankfully, Em's mom is out tonight and won't get to voice an opinion on our clothing choices. I immediately start rummaging through Em's closet looking for something cute to wear. As a bonus to being best friends, we both are almost the same height (I'm five-six and she's five-seven), and we both wear the same size. We are constantly raiding each other's closets.
I finger a pink fake cashmere sweater with my left hand and flip open my cell and dial with my right. My mom will kill me if I don't call to check in.
'Hello?'
'Hey, Mom.'
'Hi, sweetie ... on your way home?' Mom says.
'Not exactly. I'm at Em's.' I pull a silver scoop-neck sweater out of the closet, hold it against myself, and turn to show Em. She shakes her head no.
'How was your day?' Mom asks, and I can hear tapping in the background. She's obviously typing on the computer while talking to me.
'Great, actually. Derek made me assistant manager.'
'Oh, honey, that's fantastic! It won't interfere with school though, will it?'
I doubt it. 'No, of course not. Hey, Mom, is it okay if Em, Katie, Ava, and I go hang out at Jen's?' Not a lie. We will be hanging out at Jen's. Along with fifty of her closest friends.
'Okay, Jane, but be home before midnight.'
'Kay.'
'And keep your phone on.'
'Uh-huh.'
'Love you,' Mom says.
'Love you, too. Bye.'
'All cool?' Em asks when I hang up.
'Yep.' I return my attention to Em's closet.
'Hey, that was funny what you were telling Sarah about your notebook tonight.' Em eyes the notebook that I threw on her bed as she slips on her new skinny jeans and lies back on her bed to button them.
I laugh. 'That girl is so nosy. I was getting sick of her asking me about it.' I pick up a pair of Em's black leggings and a white-and-black striped skirt and hold them against myself while looking in her mirror.
'So, Dr. Freud, how long is your study of people's coffee habits going to go on?' Em has read through some of my descriptions before and thinks they are hilarious.
And accurate, of course.
'I don't know. It's fun and pretty fascinating. I can tell so much about people from their drinks. I actually got an idea tonight that I'm thinking about trying out,' I say.
'Yeah? What's that?'
'Well, it really depends on how willing my subjects axe!'
'Oh god, just tell me I'm not one of your 'subjects,' ' she pleads, stopping to look at me before she continues to outline her right eye with dark brown pencil.
'Boring ol' medium-hot-chocolate you?' I say. 'Nah.
Besides, you have a man already.' Em has been dating the ever reliable Jason Jones since freshman year in high school. I swear they are going to get married one day.
'Well, I don't see him around tonight, do you?' she says. 'And sometimes I get a coffee hot chocolate, so there.'
'You told me.'
'But seriously, do tell. What does having a man have to do with this?'
'Well,' I start, not sure how exactly to say it. 'You know how earlier tonight I was telling you how awesome Gavin is and how we should set him up with someone?'
'Yeah ...' she says, sitting down next to me on the bed.
I flip open my book to 'medium iced vanilla latte.'
'Look.' Em quickly reads my entry.
Medium Feed Vanilla Latte
Smart, sweet, and gentle. Sometimes soft-spoken but not a doormat. Loyal and trustworthy. A good friend.
Decent looks and body.
'What about it?' Em asks.
'Hold on.' I flip through the pages of my notebook again. 'Now read this.'
Medium Dry Cappuccino
Smart and simple. Fit and fairly good-looking. A little timid and soft-spoken but probably a powerhouse if ever tested. A good friend.
