Strawberry Latte

“C-C-Can I g-get one o-order of… Umm…”

Mia Rosswood, now a senior high school student, still never did get rid of her stutters or complete a proper sentence, even when only placing a simple order.

The scent of milk and cacao beans drifted across the café. It was a cold afternoon, and there were few people around. But she knew she could not stall the line. From behind the counter, the barista already wore an annoyed frown.

“What was that? I can't hear you.”

Wavy brownish-pink strands fell over her pale face as she lowered her head, light red eyes darting around in a frantic search for a response.

She looked towards the menu, then lit up at the strawberry-flavored drinks—soft, fluffy, topped with whipped cream, but probably more than she could afford. She dug her hand into her pocket to check, and her heart sank, as it only had some coins.

“Uh, sorry, n-nevermind…”
“Then, get out of the way,” snapped the customer behind her. “You're making others wait for nothing.”
“S-Sorry! I’m so s-sorry…”

Dejected, she stepped away and trudged to the seats beside the window, where her friend was waiting. She was a pretty girl with straight red hair and bright green eyes. Propped before her on the table was an iced mocha and a plate of chocolate cookies.

“You’re not getting anything?” Jenny asked, raising a brow over the rim of her cup.
Mia gave a half-smile and shook her head. “I-I realized I’m not hungry…”

Truth be told, she hadn’t had anything but buttered toast for both breakfast and lunch. Money was always short even back in the countryside, and she grew up doing odd jobs to make ends meet yet still attending class on an empty stomach. Now in high school, the frugal life followed her, especially into overpriced cafés on chilly early-spring days.

As for why she came to such a place, to begin with, it was simply because she wanted to hang out with the one and only friend she'd made since moving to the city.

“I can pay for it, if you want,” Jenny offered with a concerned tone.
Mia shook her head. ‘Spending time together makes me happy enough.’

However, things couldn't stay this way. They'd soon enter college to take their respective courses, and she'd be all by herself again. Before then, she had to try to change. Her financial matters aside, what's more challenging was her timid nature, which made social interactions grueling.

She couldn't keep worrying her friend like this, not when she'd done so much for her.

“Come on, Mia,” the redhead sighed. “We went here for this reason. Don't-”
"Don't touch me, you freak!"

A scream suddenly tore through the air, making both girls turn around in surprise. There in the doorway stood a gorgeous lady in an exquisite dress. Like the two, everyone else was now watching the commotion she caused.

"Wait, is that…? That's Alice! The makeup vlogger!" Mia heard Jenny gasp.

But her focus wasn't on the beauty that drew in each person's gaze in the room. Rather, it's on the young man with her. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his unkempt blonde hair drenched from what appeared to be coffee.

‘She threw it on him?!’ She blanched at the sight, appalled.

His glasses were slanted, and there was a big, brown stain splattered over his wrinkled shirt. A bouquet of roses drooped pitifully in his hand, petals scattered on the floor. He looked more than humiliated; he looked ruined.

"Stop following me around and embarrassing me!" Alice’s voice lashed like a whip. "I don’t ever want to see your ugly face again, you hear?!"

Then off she went, heels clicking furiously against the floor before vanishing into the city bustles outside. For a moment, silence stretched across the place while employees and customers alike remained unmoving.

All eyes hovered toward the guy, whose expression wasn’t of anger nor shock; it was pure emptiness. Mia felt her chest tighten. She knew that emotion all too well—that cold, hollow ache that came with being unwanted.

She was an outcast who couldn't speak like normal and thus had never been fortunate in love. Each attempt ended with hurtful words and disgusted looks from boys she thought understood her. They said she was too quiet, too strange, too boring.

"You're a cutie, but you're weird. What a waste."
"Sorry, we're just too different. You're not my type at all."
"How can anyone possibly like you when you can barely say a word?"

It happened all the time, and eventually, she came to accept reality. Nobody would want to be with someone so weak and pathetic. For as long as she could remember, she was alone and did not know what it felt like to love or to be loved.

Always on the sideline. Never at the center.

‘Is he…the same?’

Before she knew it, she was out of her seat and moving in his direction. Her heart pounded with anxiety, her stomach churning in protest. But something stronger pushed her forward—something buried deep within.

“Hey, umm… A-Are you o-okay…?” she asked once she reached him.

He didn’t reply, just slowly lifted his head and stared at her in a daze. Despite the lack of response, she trembled from head to toe, as if she'd been sent away. She clenched her fists, grounding herself, then pulled out her handkerchief and held it out to him with shaky fingers.

“H-Here,” she stammered, forcing out a wobbly smile. “I-It’s clean, I p-promise. You can u-use it for now, though I-I advise you to change out of that shirt as soon as y-you can… Oh, a-and, ummm… I-I know a way to wash off stains like that, if you w-want me to tell you h-how…”

She was desperate for a topic, yet there was still no reaction. “Ermmm… S-Sir?”

More time passed with no word or movement, but in those seconds, something shifted in his eyes.

---

A set of lovely eyes framed with long, fluttering lashes came into view when reality pulled Wes back.

He blinked as his surroundings further sank in. Too stunned by the harsh public rejection, he had kept his head down and ignored the judging looks around him. He expected nobody to bat an eye, much less approach him in this state —

Until she came extending an unsteady hand, tremors in her voice and fear on her face.

He stared in awe at such a clumsy act of kindness. Then, he realized he hadn't been listening even though she was already so nervous. His spine straightened in attention.

“S-So, uh, t-to get off that s-stain…”

For some reason, she began to teach him how to clean clothes, of all things. Her words kept faltering, and he swore she was about to tear up, but she did her best to explain everything.

One word popped into his head at the same time a low chuckle escaped his lips. ‘...Cute.’

She paused at the sound, her eyes wide and lips quivering. It seemed she thought he was making fun of her, which he wasn't. He gave her a gentle smile to assure her, to show that he meant well.

A moment passed without any word or movement, and in those seconds, something shifted in her eyes.