the polaroid project • why don't we

c.b + the one with the many names

To his credit, he greeted her a good morning back and he didn't seem glued to his phone anymore. But that wasn't enough to get him back in her good graces.

"Same as yesterday," He said and Mitchell smirked.

"I'm sorry, forgive me. What was your order again?"

The guy, Corbyn, blinked at her, likely wondering if she was serious.

"Uh, Coffee Jelly Frappe. Venti."

"Okaaay," She drew out as she picked up a cup and poised her marker over the plastic, "And your name?"

He just blinked at her and stammered out, "Really? It's Corbyn."

"Okay, got it, Corbyn," She said as she wrote down Courbeen.

So she made his order, served, he looked at her with a slight glare, and she smiled back. He left the store and they went on with their day.

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By the third day, blonde-guy Corbyn was back and he was right on schedule. So Mitchell continued to pretend that she couldn't recognize him.

"Coffee Jelly Frappe, Grande," He mumbled out quickly, already pulling out his cash, and she just nodded.

When she was about to write down the new spelling she could think of for Corbyn, she still asked, "Name, please?"

"Corbyn," He said, no hint of emotion to it, and she nodded. She wrote down Kurben.

And the rest of the process continued. His order was made and she called him to collect it. She wiped the countertop just as he picked up his cup.

He looked at the messy scrawling once, then looked up at her, unimpressed, "Really? I appreciated the creativity on the last two but this is just sad."

Mitchell wanted to burst out laughing.

"Well," She shrugged, "I was running out of ideas."

The guy rolled his eyes but she noticed the trace of an amused smile, "Is it that difficult to spell Corbyn?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," She asked innocently while trying to hold in her laughter, "Did I spell it wrong?"

The guy started at her blankly for a few more seconds before he shook his head.

"No, no, don't worry," He said, getting his drink, "This was perfect. The last two were correct variations as well."

Mitchell suppressed the laughter and nodded at him with a forced smile, "That's good to hear, sir."

The guy shook his head with a small laugh before he left and Mitchell doubled over from laughing the moment he was out the door.

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He comes in the next day, same time.

"Name, sir?"

"Corbyn."

She writes down Curebein.

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"Coffee Jelly, Venti."

"Name?"

"Corbyn."

Caribbean.

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"Order?"

"Coffee Jelly. Low-fat milk again, Grande."

"Got it. Name?"

"Daniel."

She wrote down, nice try, Carbean.

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