Andi Mack One Shots

Wonah: Milk & Coffee

I walked to No Doze Café at my usual time; 7 in the morning. This was kind of a vital part of my schedule: wake up, shower, No Doze. Coffee, to me, was something special. Coming from someone with anxiety, it probably sounds a little counterintuitive. But coffee symbolizes comfort, love, community. I think that a bad day with coffee is better than a good day without it. The stroll only takes about 9 minutes until I've arrived, and the small wooden door greets me 'good morning'.

As I'm pulling out my wallet and walking up to the bar, a cheery barista greets me. I look up at them to say 'hello' and find myself at a loss for words.

This barista is beautiful.

He's got dark brown eyes, mocha-colored skin, and curly hair that has a little blonde streak in it. His name tag says 'Walker', and I unconsciously start reciting 'Walker Beck' over and over again in my head.

"I'm sorry, sir? Did you need more time to look over the menu? I can recommend something, if you'd like."

Another barista nearby, named Callie, gives me a weird look. "That's Jonah, he's one of our regulars. He always gets the--"

"--coffee," I interject, earning another strange look from Callie. "Black coffee. Strong, dark roast. The darkest roast you have, in a large size. Nothing less. I'm a man of steel."

Walker shrugs and swipes my debit card, giving me a dazzling smile that leaves my head spinning.

He goes over to the hot drink bar to pour my drink, and has it ready in a couple of minutes. He even brings the cup over to the table I'm sitting at, setting it down slowly and grinning softly. "Mind if I join you? I'm going to take my break, now."

I nod 'yes' and Walker sits down across from me. He gestures to my drink and grins, clearly waiting for my input.

"This is our strongest, darkest roast...man of steel."

I laugh half-heartedly, still in disbelief that this cute guy is sitting across from me. But also because...well...here's the thing:

I hate black coffee. I despise it, in fact. I love coffee, yes, but I also love milk and sugar in it. But I didn't want Walker to think of me as one of those weak coffee drinkers that needs sugar put into everything they consume. So, naturally, I asked him for dark roast.

I wonder if I can just drink it like a shot and get it over with?

I remove the lid and look back up at Walker, who looks at me expectantly. I stare down into the lifeless java. There's no color, no flavor, nothing. I pick it up and take a huge gulp of the scalding hot coffee, nearly spitting it out and clearly making a disgusted face.

Did I mention I only like iced coffee?

"Oh, no! Is it bad? Did I make it wrong?" Walker reaches out, worried, and I raise my hand to stop him.

"No, no, it's the...best coffee I've ever had. You're a natural. I just wasn't expecting it to taste this...delicious..."

Walker's eyebrows knit together and he smiles, seemingly in acceptance of my answer.

There's no way I can take another sip of this coffee, so I try to chat Walker up instead.

"So, Walker, how are you liking the job so far?"

Walker gives me a small grin. "I've only been here for one day...but it's better than Starbucks was. I like how intimate this place feels."

I nod in response; I love how small and cozy this place feels, too. Walker actually reminds me a lot of it...just being around him feels warm and wonderful. He's kind of like, coffee, in that way.

Walker wordlessly nods his head and the tension between us seems to build.

"Jonah, is everything alright? You've taken one...uh, chug of your coffee. I can remake it if it's bad. Honestly."

I give Walker a watery smile. "I don't want you to think I'm weak..."

Now, Walker's giving me a weird grin in return. "Uh...do you like light roast, or something? I can make your drink however you like it, Jonah. I'm not going to think you're weak. I personally love my coffee with milk and hazelnut syrup, mmm. Oh, and it has to be--"

"--iced?" I finish, looking into Walker's bright eyes. He grinned and clapped his hands excitedly. "Yes! Coffee should be flavorful! Do you want iced coffee, Jo?"

I look up at Walker through my lashes and nod shyly. "Yes, please...with milk. And vanilla syrup. Or, no, wait. Let me try that hazelnut syrup you're talking about. Let me just give you my card."

Walker put his hands on mine to stop me, and I feel my heart picking up its pace. I guess that could be the dark roast I just tried to chug, but I feel my ears burning too.

"It's on me," he insisted. "Just...please, let me get rid of that disaster you tried to drink. That drink belongs down the sink."

With that, Walker walked back to the bar and got to work on a new drink, pouring the old one out. Callie gave me a knowing smile from her place behind the bar.

Walker brought a new drink out a few minutes later, and it looked divine. Shots of espresso layered with milk and pumps of hazelnut syrup. On ice, of course. It smelled and looked amazing.

"I've got to go clean the bar up, but let me know what you think of this. Okay? Maybe you'd like to get it again when I take you out on a coffee date."

I grin wildly and fight the blush exposing my feelings, thanking Walker for making me a new drink and being so understanding. "Let me give you my number," I finally state, but Walker shakes his head.

"I'll have your number when you call me," he insists. He walks away, and I notice he's written his number on the cup, along with a drawing of a rainbow and a smiling sun.

I look back over to the bar and we lock eyes, his smile blinding my senses. Taking a sip of my drink, I immediately fall in love with the smooth, silky taste of hazelnut mixed with cold milk and chilled espresso.

Milk and coffee are always a beautiful blend.