Page 3 of Lily
2
LILY
My shift at the coffee shop for the rest of the day drags on. It’s not busy enough to distract me from the hands on the clock moving at a snail’s pace, but it’s just busy enough that I can’t lean against the counter with my phone and start reading my book club assignment.
I’m reorganizing the large array of coffee mugs sitting on the shelves behind the counter when I hear someone clear their throat.
I turn around and see four slightly nerdy looking guys standing by the register. They’ve been in here before, with their laptops playing some online role-playing game, but today they look like they have come here on a mission.
"How can I help you, boys?" I ask, setting down the mug that says:I don't see colors until my second cup.
None of them speak but look at me like I’ve grown a second head or something.
“Coffee? Tea? The ability to speak when spoken to?”
That last one seems to snap the one guy with glasses out of his trance, and he clears his throat again.
“Can we have a soy-free latte, two hot chocolates, and a chai tea?” he asks.
I glance at the other three guys. They didn't look to be what I would have called popular in high school. They looked like the guys that worked on the AV team, got straight A’s, and spent all their free time hanging out in their mom’s basement playing video games. But at the same time, they looked sweet and a bit nervous, like they were definitely trying something out of their comfort zones, and I couldn’t judge them for that. We all should try to step out of our comfort zones every once in a while.
I ring up their order on the register. “Okay, that will be $18.27.”
The guy with glasses pulls out his wallet and peels back the Velcro. And despite the urge to make a face at his choice in fashion accessories, I stay neutral with my best barista smile on my face.
The guys move over to one of the tables that sit against the side wall of the coffee shop. I don’t hear them talking as I work on their order, but I caught a little bit of their conversation when I walk up with a tray and their drinks.
“She looks just like her,” the tallest one says.
The guy with glasses nods. “I know.”
“We can’t pass up this opportunity.”
“Just ask her.”
What are they talking about?I was worried at first that one of the guys was trying to get the nerve to ask me out, but their conversation doesn’t sound like it now. They stop talking the moment they notice me standing near their table. I set down the four mugs, not sure which one goes to which guy.
The guy with the glasses clears his throat. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like Wanda Watkins?”
I stare at him a moment, trying to sift through my mental Rolodex and find that name, but I come up with nothing.
“I don’t know who she is,” I say. “Is she friends with one of the Kardashians?”
The tall one looks at me like I’ve just said the dumbest thing in the world.
“No.” The guy with glasses shakes his head. “Wanda Watkins is a comic book heroine.”
“You’re saying I look like a cartoon character?” I ask.
“No, a comic book heroine,” the tall one corrects me.
“Yes, you look as if Wanda Watkins stepped off the comic book page and into real life.”
I’m not entirely sure how I should be taking this. I’ve been compared to a lot of things by guys, but a drawing is something new.
“Here, let me show you.” The guy with glasses types into his phone and pulls up an image.
I look down at the phone screen when he turns it around to show me. Wanda Watkins is dressed in a red halter top with a darker red skirt, and her hair is pulled up in two buns on the top of either side of her head. She’s also got on thigh-high boots and a mid-length cape.
