Tristan hurried to Books and Brews once he received a text from Kayla. His phone had been repeatedly vibrating on his nightstand, immediately jolting him awake. He thought it was one of those annoying spam messages again, but he was wrong.
There were lots of messages from Kayla, all of it containing the
You need to come here ASAP, her text had said. I'll be on break after five minutes. Hurry up!
And that's how he ended up in Books in Brews that Saturday morning, still clad in a white shirt he had slipped on and his green pajamas. He just bolted out of bed and brushed his teeth before running outside, straight towards his car.
"Why? What's wrong?" Tristan asked in a frantic voice, instantly looking around the coffee shop. On instinct, his eyes searched for Vanessa.
"Tristan!" Kayla called out from one of the tables she was cleaning, a wide smile spreading across her face as she carried a tray with empty plates and coffee cups. "Just in time, pretty boy. This is the last table I'm cleaning before my break."
Tristan gave her a once over, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he noted that there was nothing wrong with her posture or the expression on her face.
What could possibly be the urgent news that made her want to come here at such an early hour? It was just a few minutes after nine o'clock in the morning—if Kayla hadn't texted him, he would still be in bed, sleeping peacefully.
Then again, Tristan could feel that it wasn't just some random person she wanted to talk about. Kayla was probably going to tell him that she had been promoted or that she had snagged another shade of red lipstick that was on sale.
Either way, he knew that whatever it was she wanted to tell him, it was important.
"What you're about to hear will snatch your weaves," Kayla proclaimed dramatically once she was done with cleaning tables, her blue eyes wide and filled with excitement. She was practically bouncing on her seat. He didn't get what she was saying, though.
"Okay, fine, metaphorical weaves," she rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue, as if she was scolding him for not understanding the reference.
"What kind of emergency did I come here for?" Tristan frowned and crossed his arms across his chest. He went straight to this place because of her, without even drinking coffee first. Of course he was grouchy.
"Haven't had your dose of caffeine yet, huh, pretty boy?" Kayla smirked at him, clearly amused by his bad mood.
"What do you think?" Tristan snapped. His patience wasn't always his best asset whenever he didn't get a chance to drink his coffee. He didn't mean to be an asshole towards his blonde friend, but he was still deprived of coffee—he didn't have much of a choice.
Kayla laughed. "Chill the fuck out, pretty boy," she said, standing up from her seat all of a sudden. "I'll get you an espresso this time, alright? You look like you badly need the caffeine, anyway. And don't worry, it's on me."
Okay, that didn't sound like a bad idea at all.
His mood mellowed immediately. "Awesome," he flashed her a lazy smile.
Kayla narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "Did you do that on purpose?"
This time, it was his turn to laugh. "No," he answered sincerely. "I become a grouchy old troll without coffee in the morning all the time."
"You're lucky you're one of my closest friends," Kayla teased, sticking out her tongue at him like a kid. "Hang on, I'll get you your coffee, Mr. McGrouchy. I'll be back in a jiffy."
While waiting for Kayla to return with his coffee, Tristan briefly wondered why Vanessa wasn't at the coffee shop today. Was she sick? Was she fixing up some stuff at the locker room? Was she assigned to a different station today?
As he pondered over these questions, a tall guy with silvery hair and black glasses walked over to his table and said, "Excuse me, sir, but would you mind if I asked you a few questions for a while?"
Tristan automatically shifted in his seat for a bit, the guy was a complete stranger to him after all. His first instinct was to turn away and ignore the man, but when his eyes spotted the guy's nametag that had manager written in simple black letters, he shook his head slowly.
"Thank you," the guy smiled politely as he extended his hand out for a handshake. "I'm Jack, the manager of Books and Brews." Tristan shook hands with him and noticed a tattoo of a rainbow on his right thumb.
"I'm Tristan," he introduced himself, smiling back at the coffee shop's manager. He was certain that this was the first time he has seen the guy, and from what he could remember, Kayla had told him their manager was visiting some relatives.
"So, Tristan," Jack began pleasantly, taking out a small notepad and a pen from the front pocket of his beige polo shirt.
Tristan raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Was he seriously getting interviewed right now? If he had been given a heads up about this earlier, he would have shaved or at least put on a pair of jeans. Not because he was a narcissistic douchebag, he wanted to look decent and presentable.
"How often do you come over to our coffee shop?" Jack asked, looking at him with inquisitive green eyes.
"Almost everyday," Tristan answered earnestly. "Sometimes I drop by before my morning classes. Sometimes after class, too."
"And you're here now," Jack pointed out, a fond smile spreading across his face. His statement made Tristan smile as well. He scribbled something on his notepad before asking another question. "When you visit our coffee shop, what do you normally choose from our menu?"
Tristan took a moment to answer the question. "I'm a big fan of your flat white and latte," he said. "I haven't tried the pastries or sandwiches yet; maybe in a few days, I'll give it a go. I usually come here for coffee only."
From his peripheral vision, Tristan saw Kayla walking towards his direction with the coffee she promised him, but when she saw that he was talking to her boss, she stopped on her tracks and went back to the counter.
"I see," Jack said, taking down notes again. "How do you feel about our employees? Are you satisfied with their service and perfomance?"
"I'm very satisfied," Tristan smiled again. It was true—ever since he stepped foot inside the coffee shop, the ambiance and the employees were very friendly and approachable as well.
Despite Vanessa's intimidating aura, she was still professional and polite with the customers. Kayla was incredibly bubbly and enthusiastic as well. He hadn't seen Nic that much at work after the incident with Vanessa, but he was pretty sure that his cousin was good at handling customers, too.
"Everyone's nice and very accommodating," he continued with a smile. "I really appreciate their willingness to help out a customer, even in the littlest of things."
Once, he had ordered his usual latte after jogging on a Thursday afternoon. He was sitting at a table near the counter at the time, both Kayla and Vanessa weren't there.
The other brunette, the one who had braided hair and freckles sprinkled on her cheeks—Gabe was her name, if he remembered correctly—was at the counter, trying to explain the difference between an americano and an espresso to an old lady.
She had to repeat the explanation three times before the elder woman asked her a different question.
"I'm very glad to hear that," Jack nodded happily. His emerald eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and just like before, his smile was contagious. Just like Kayla's. "Lastly," he finally said, "is there anything else you want us to improve?"
"I don't really have any kind of complaint," he replied sincerely. Jack looked like he was on the verge of shedding tears of joy when he heard Tristan's words. "This place is awesome."
"Thank you for your time, Tristan," Jack said. He closed his small notepad and tucked it inside his front pocket, along with the black pen he used earlier. Before Jack stood up from his seat, Tristan decided to ask him questions, too. He wasn't sure if he knew anything about her, and it was practically a long shot, but it was worth trying.
And besides, he wanted to know if she had work today, too.
"Hey, Jack," Tristan said, surprised that his voice still sounded calm and steady. He felt slightly nervous for some reason, he just hoped he could keep up the composed façade longer.
"Yeah?"
"Uh..." Tristan trailed off and looked down at his lap, turning bashful all of a sudden. So much for being calm. Jack was probably going to think of him as a stalker if he asked about Vanessa, and there was also a slight possibility that he might get kicked out of the coffee shop if he sounded creepy to their manager.
He cleared his throat first before speaking again. This time, he was going to do it for real.
"Is Vanessa working today?" Tristan finally blurted out, silently hoping that he didn't sound too desperate to know the pale girl's schedule.
Jack scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion, his jade eyes staring at him curiously. He had a huge question mark painted on his face, but he recovered after a moment and answered the question patiently. "It's her day off," he said.
"Oh." Tristan's shoulders slumped in disappointment. He honestly didn't expect for her to be absent today, he wanted to apologize for his rash behavior last week. "Alright," he mumbled. "Thanks, man."
"Sure," Jack nodded. Tristan thought he was going to stand up and leave, but the silver-haired manager looked at him as if he was saying, "You have something else to ask, huh?"
And he was right. Tristan wanted to bombard him with questions, questions that would probably weird him out. It was going to be a lot worse than asking where Vanessa was.
But as Tristan looked back at Jack's kind eyes, he decided to go with it because he was already asking weird questions to him, anyway. He was grateful for Jack's tolerance and patience—at least he wasn't one of the assholes who treated her like shit.
"Would it be okay for me to ask you a few questions?" Tristan inquired nervously, he tried hard to ignore the lump that was starting to form in his throat. "Just... just a few things I wanted to know about Vanessa."
It was going to hurt like a bitch if Jack denied answering his queries. He did his best, though. That was what mattered. Well, at least that was what he told himself over and over.
Whatever Kayla had to tell him was going to have to wait.
Jack pushed his black-rimmed glasses against the bridge of his nose and tilted his head to the side. "May I ask why first?" he replied, looking slightly wary.
Had Tristan known that he was going to continue his research today, he would have brought his laptop along with him. A small notepad like the one Jack had would have been helpful, too.
Jack didn't quite reject his inquiry, he was just being cautious. Of course, Tristan was aware of the rules and regulations that were established in businesses, even in small ones like this coffee shop, but he didn't know the specific limitations of its scope.
"I just want to know her better," Tristan admitted. He felt relieved saying that out loud, especially to a person other than Kayla. Jack didn't look mean and judgemental like the others. "I'm not a stalker," he clarified, just in case Jack was thinking about it. "I'm having difficulties talking to her, to be honest."
"Ah," Jack nodded sympathetically, his expression softening slowly. "She is a bit reserved," he noted thoughtfully. "I get what you're saying, Tristan."
Tristan sighed in relief.
"She's one of the quiet ones," Jack continued, looking past him as if he were remembering something. A fond smile slowly tugged at the corners of his lips. "But she's a hard worker, you know?"
Hearing another person's positive comments about Vanessa lifted up his spirits. He was right about her being good person, despite her short temper. It made him want to apologize to her as soon as possible—he couldn't wait to finally befriend her, to help her get through whatever kind of shit came her way.
Deep down, he knew that those people who loathed her so much for no good reason were wrong. He knew how stupid they were for disregarding her existence, for degrading who she was as a person.
"Yeah," Tristan agreed. He meant it. "She is."
For a moment there, Jack looked like an extremely proud dad showing off the achievements of his daughter.
"What did you want to know about her, anyway?" Jack propped his elbows on the table and folded his hands together. He sounded genuinely curious, so Tristan took it as a sign that he wasn't going to be thrown out of the coffee shop.
"Just a few things, if that's okay?" He didn't want to bother Jack to much; the staff at the counter might need him for something, so he decided to ask a couple of brief questions, just in case.
"Go ahead," Jack said.
"Do you know how long she's been working here?" was the first question that came to his mind.
Jack thought about his question for a moment. "Three years, I think," he held out his hand in front of him, counting with his fingers and quietly remembering if his memories were correct.
"Yeah, it's been three years," he said, nodding to himself. "Vanessa was sixteen when she first got her job here. I just got promoted as manager at that time; and... well, let's just say that she was very persistent to get this job." Recognition flashed in his green eyes, another smile spreading across his kind face.
In his head, Tristan calculated how old Vanessa was. If she had begun working at the coffee shop when she was sixteen, then that meant... she was still either nineteen or she had already celebrated her twentieth birthday.
Tristan wanted to ask when her birthday was, but decided not to; it would sound wrong and too stalkerish. He didn't want to stop asking questions yet.
"That's cool," he remarked. He silently hoped that Jack would continue to entertain his queries for a few more minutes. The silver-haired manager's eagerness to answer his questions put him into a more relaxed mood than before. "Was she always... you know, uh... quiet? I mean, distant?"
He wanted to say aloof or intimidating, but if did, he felt as if he was just like those horrible people who stepped on her and treated her badly. So he just chose a different word, something less offensive.
"Distant? Not really. Not at first." Jack said, shaking his head. His face fell a little. "She was always a quiet girl, but she was a bit chatty with our customers back then, though." He sighed deeply, it was obvious that talking about who Vanessa was in the past brought him back bittersweet memories.
"I'm very happy that she never brought up the idea of resigning, you know?" Jack continued. "She's still the same girl who applied here three years ago. But... the light in her eyes just disappeared all of a sudden. From what I heard, she got into a car accident, the poor girl," he frowned, closing his eyes for a moment and heaving a deep sigh.
"And I'm pretty sure that she doesn't know this—I've always been worried about her, to be honest."
Tristan was surprised to hear those words slip out of Jack's mouth. Realizing that he and Kayla weren't the only ones who were concerned about Vanessa slightly overwhelmed him.
He's right, Tristan thought. She doesn't know how much I worry about her. How much other people like Kayla and Jack want to get close to her and ensure her happiness and safety. Why does she keep everything to herself all the time?
"You're worried about her, too, aren't you?" Jack asked out of the blue, catching him off guard. Damn. Was he really that transparent? His green eyes were filled with understanding and respect when their gazes met. Tristan nodded stiffly. "You and Kayla are so much alike," he pointed out with a smile. "I hope you two become good friends—she's the blonde girl manning the counter today."
"I know who she is," Tristan said, his eyes quickly glancing at Kayla, who was busy washing dishes this time. Her break was probably over, and his free coffee was already long forgotten. He would have to order it for himself later after talking to Jack.
"Actually, we've been friends ever since I stepped foot inside this coffee shop." He laughed, and then Jack laughed along with him.
"Sorry," Jack chuckled. "I guess I wasn't here when she approached you, huh?"
"No," Tristan shook his head after their laughter subsided. "Kayla's nice."
"I didn't think she would be able to meet someone as passionate as her," Jack commented, looking at Tristan with a secretive smile. He paused for a moment, then he said, "Kayla's become more lively than usual. It's actually a relief to see her and Vanessa on good terms now."
Tristan almost stood up from his seat, hearing the Kayla and Vanessa's names in the same sentence with the words good terms seemed highly unlikely. He thought it was another joke, but the genuine smile painted on the silver-haired guy's lips told him otherwise.
Jack must have noticed the are you serious expression on his face because he smiled knowingly at him before standing up from his seat. "It was nice talking to you," he adjusted his glasses again, then he waved goodbye at Tristan, who was still dumbfounded with the information he had been told.
Tristan pulled out his phone from the pocket of his pajamas to check the time, since he was in too much of a hurry to put on his wristwatch earlier. It was already ten o'clock, which meant that he and Jack had been talking to each other for almost an hour.
"Hey," a familiar female voice said. When he looked up from his phone, the freckled brunette was a few inches away from his table. She was still unable to look him squarely in the eyes, which he thought was amusing. "You're Tristan, right?"
"Yes," he answered politely, then he checked the girl's nametag and smiled to himself. He was right, her name was Gabe. He briefly wondered if she wanted to interview him for customer satisfaction, too. "What's up?"
Gabe fluttered her eyelashes, but he didn't think she was flirting—she was downright nervous, just like the last time he saw her. "Kayla told me to give this to you," she mumbled, placing a tray of food on his table.
There was a cup of warm coffee and a plate of an unknown pastry on the tray. He wasn't familiar with their pastries, but it still looked really good. The delicious smell of caffeine lingered in his nose as he breathed in its ambrosial scent.
"And she said that she'll be back here after a few minutes," Gabe added, twisting the end of her brown curls with her finger. She wasn't wearing braids today; her chestnut brown hair was embellished with little purple clips instead. He thought she looked nice.
"Thank you, Gabe." Tristan smiled at her again, and almost immediately, the shy girl's eyes looked down at the ground as she blushed profusely. It wasn't the first time he saw someone react that way whenever he smiled. Of course, it was flattering, but at the same time, it was slightly amusing.
Gabe managed to smile nervously at him before marching back to the counter.
As if on cue, his stomach churned. Since he hasn't had anything in his system for the last few hours yet, his body desperately yearned to consume food. He scanned his surroundings for a moment, just to check if anyone was looking his way.
The hunger he felt was enough for him to ravage the pastry in front of him like a caveman. And honestly, he wanted to do it, too.
Nobody will know, anyway, Tristan thought. And besides, I'm not in plain sight, so I guess it's wolf it down as quickly as possible.
Eventually, he stopped thinking too much about it. For fuck's sake, it was his food, and he honestly didn't give a damn anymore because all he wanted to do was eat.
Tristan grabbed the pastry from his plate with his hands and scarfed it down hungrily like he usually did whenever he ate cheeseburgers. He ate his food slowly and surely, though—he hated it when people ate with their sloppy mouths wide open and chewed on their food noisily.
He was really hungry, but he was never going to eat in public like a deranged Homo Erectus who just discovered what it's like to finally eat authentic food. His table manners were still intact, no matter how starved he felt.
"Sorry I took so long—whoa, slow down, pretty boy. Nobody's chasing you." Tristan stopped eating for a moment, slowly lifting his gaze. Kayla was looking down at him, an amused smile spreading widely across her crimson lips. She pulled out the seat in front of him and made herself comfortable. "Hungry, huh?"
"I haven't eaten anything for hours," Tristan said, rolling his eyes. He took another bite of his pastry. Whatever it was called, it was a delicious piece of baked goodness, that's for sure.
"That's called a caramel and cinnamon roll," Kayla drawled out in a teasing voice. "And there's more where that came from, pretty boy. But it's not for free anymore, okay?"
Tristan took one last bite of his food and finished it quickly. "I know," he said, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Your manager talked to me earlier," he added. "What was that all about?"
"Jack likes to hear customer feedback personally," Kayla answered casually, as if it wasn't a big deal at all. "Why? Did he freak you out or something?"
"No, of course not," Tristan scoffed. "I was just surprised when a silver-haired stranger sat across from me without permission."
Kayla opened her mouth to say something but she stopped abruptly, and then she reached for something in her back pocket. "Look at this," she said in an excited voice, bouncing on her seat again.
She placed a box of red Marlboro on top of their table and stared at it with some kind of reverence. Tristan knew what it was, obviously, but the weird look on her face was what perplexed him the most. So what if she hid a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of her jeans? She probably did it all the time.
"Isn't it the most gorgeous box of Marlboro you've ever seen?" Kayla gushed, folding her hands together and pressing it against her right cheek.
Tristan grew worried about her bizzare antics. Was he supposed to guess what was inside, aside from the cigarettes? Was he supposed to praise her excellent skills in choosing cigarette brands? Was she trying to convince him to smoke as well? What was she trying to tell him?
"It's so beautiful," Kayla sighed dreamily, still distracted by the pack of cigarettes she kept staring at. She looked exactly like the emoticon that had heart eyes. "Don't you think so, Tristan?" she asked him, her blue eyes dazed and filled with an unusual euphoria.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Tristan blurted out, ignoring the confused expression on his blonde friend's face. Her odd behavior was making him uneasy. But he didn't want to blatantly tell her that she was creeping him out because she might take it the wrong way. He didn't want to hurt her feelings.
"Vanessa gave this to me!" Kayla squealed in delight. It took him a moment to piece together the information she told him. Was she for real or was she just pulling his leg? It didn't make sense at all. Why would Vanessa even bother to give her a pack of cigarettes?
"Are you kidding me right now?" Tristan asked incredulously, his ocean eyes wide and disbelieving.
"No, I'm not!" Kayla said defensively, looking shocked all of a sudden. "I swear, she gave this to me! Hang on—" she flipped the pack of Marlboro and showed off a little note that was stuck onto its back. "See! That's Vanessa's handwriting!" She smiled fondly at the memory, her features softening. "She gave it to me before she went home yesterday."
Thanks, the note said, and it was written in thin, black cursive letters that were simple but still elegant. At the bottom of the note was a smooth signature of her name.
Kayla wasn't fooling around after all.
"Why did she give you—" he stopped talking when Kayla held out a finger and pressed it against her lips, gesturing him to keep quiet for a moment.
"Good question, pretty boy," Kayla smirked. "I'll keep it brief and simple, okay? I've got to get back to work in a few minutes. Gabe's going on break soon," she sighed. "She can't cover for me if she's too busy fixing her hair during her free time again."
"Go ahead," Tristan said. He was going to tell her about Vanessa slapping him in public, but he was also eager to hear about her story first.
Kayla shifted in her seat as she shoved the pack of cigarettes inside her back pocket again. "I was out with a guy two days ago," she began casually. "And we went to this diner that was like, at the other side of campus. I thought the diner was cool—it was all retro and aesthetically pleasing, you know?"
Tristan offered her a small smile. "It sounds like a nice place to hang out," he commented.
"Anyway," she continued, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Jeff—the guy I was with—let me take over with our food and drinks. So yeah, he looked for a vacant booth, because there were a lot of people when we came in. And then..." she paused for dramatic effect, she even checked if Tristan's reaction. He looked interested enough, so she went on with her story.
"Vanessa was there," Kayla finally said. "Not as a customer—she was manning the counter, just like what she usually did here at the coffee shop."
Tristan was dumbfounded again. Sure, he was slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together, but he still couldn't wrap his head around the things he was discovering.
To a regular person, finding out that Vanessa had another job was something they would disregard, but it was different with him. This new information made him more curious, more determined to help her out in any way he could—even if she refused to let him do it.
All he could think about was this: Why did she need to work with two jobs, anyway?
"I was fucking surprised to see her, honestly," Kayla giggled, cutting off his train of thought. He focused his attention on her again. "But I was happy to see a friend of mine in that unfamiliar neighborhood, though. It kind of made me feel safe," she admitted with a smile.
After a moment, her expression became grave. It made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He still wasn't used to seeing her like this.
"I thought everything was fine," she sighed deeply, her eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. "That asshole Jeff insulted her in front of my face."
"What?" Tristan demanded, his arctic eyes wide and smoldering.
"I know, I know," Kayla rolled her eyes and frowned in annoyance as she ran her red-tipped fingers through her golden hair. "But don't worry," she said reassuringly, "I didn't let him get away with it."
Tristan raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah?"
"I poured his milkshake all over him," Kayla declared smugly, a proud smile stretching brilliantly across her face. "I slapped him, too. My hand got kind of sticky, but I didn't mind. He deserved it."
If that scenario happened to him, he wouldn't hesitate to land a clean one on the guy's face.
"Does that bastard go to our university?" Tristan snarled through gritted teeth. He was thinking about confronting the said asshole in person; maybe he could get back at him for mistreating Vanessa like that.
"Don't you dare get your hands dirty," Kayla warned and shot him a dangerous glare. It was nowhere as menacing as Vanessa's, but it was enough to make him rethink his plans.
"You could get suspended if you get into a brawl with him on campus," she reprimanded, pointing an admonishing finger at him. "And if things get worse, you could get either arrested or expelled. Don't be an idiot, Tristan."
As much as he wanted to make that Jeff guy to pay for what he had done, Kayla was right. He'd only transferred here for about three weeks, expulsion was the last thing he wanted to experience. And besides, his Aunt Kelly was going to flip her shit out if he ever got expelled.
"Fine," he huffed, "I won't, Mom."
Kayla ignored his sarcastic remark. "Vanessa was fucking pissed, too," she said. "She told me how she badly wanted to punch Jeff's face." She giggled again, she didn't look pissed off anymore. "But she couldn't, since she was at work. I talked to her manager and apologized for what happened, for the mess I made."
"And then?"
"Well," Kayla briefly glanced at her silver watch, then she looked back at the counter to check if it was time for her to return to her work station. "Vanessa and I talked for a while at the diner's smoking area before I left," she said. "I just told her that she was my friend, that's it. And then yesterday, she told me to fetch the trash bin because she forgot to take it out before her shift ended, so that's exactly what I did."
Kayla stood up from her seat and adjusted her apron. "I need to get back," she muttered under her breath, taking off the scrunchie on her right wrist and using it to tie her hair into a ponytail. Tristan was about to protest because of the cliff hanger she baited him with, but she spoke again.
"I washed my hands after that," Kayla went on. "When I got out of the bathroom, she was there. And then she held out her hand to give me a pack of smokes." She showed off her butt and tapped her back pocket to emphasize her point.
"I was surprised that she knew which cigarette brand I used," Kayla smiled in amusement. "It was weird, but I was really touched by her gesture. And the note, too!" Her blue eyes sparkled with mirth, her face softening in reminiscence.
It made him feel comfortably warm as well, a relieved smile stretching across his face. At least one of them experienced something good with Vanessa.
Despite the unfortunate events that happened when the two of them "talked" last week, he was still determined to apologize to her, no matter what. Even if he gets slapped in the face for doing it.
"I better go now," Kayla murmured. "That's all I wanted to tell you," she smiled cheekily, then she winked at him and blew him a kiss before trotting off to the counter.
~
After going to the coffee shop, his initial plan was to go back home and sleep. But he didn't. He drove around campus to look for a grocery store instead. Eventually, he found one, which was five blocks away from Books and Brews.
Since his pack of Nescafe disappeared all of a sudden, he bought two packs of coffee this time. He also bought some chips, bread, and a new toothpaste.
He wasn't running low on supplies yet, but his Aunt Kelly taught him to stock up on essentials whenever necessary—it was something he adapted since she went on business trips often, and he was almost always alone during the weekdays.
Aunt Kelly taught him to be independent at an early age; she even gave him important pointers and tricks on how to drive a car when he was fourteen years old.
Thinking of Aunt Kelly made him feel homesick as he paid for his groceries at the checkout. The last time they talked to each other was two days before he transferred schools.
Aunt Kelly made him promise to share an apartment with Nicolai after she found out that he was transferring to the university his cousin was studying at. As he drove back home, he also took a mental note to print out a resume since he only had a couple hundred dollars in his wallet; he didn't want to burden his aunt with more finances because unlike Nicolai, he wasn't a scholar.
Tristan was about to open the door to his apartment when he noticed that it was unlocked. Alarmed, he mentally prepared himself for combat, silently hoping that his taekwondo skills were still intact. He had been in elementary school since he last practiced that sport.
He entered the apartment as quietly as he could, stealthily making his way to the living room. He carefully placed the bag of groceries beside the sofa and tiptoed towards the kitchen, the lights were all turned off except for that particular area.
It was pretty unusual, seeing as his room wasn't open, and the living room was practically untouched. Whoever the thief was, they probably wanted to steal his oven. Or worse, his coffee maker. His hands balled into fists as he approached the kitchen.
I'm not going to let them get away, he thought angrily. And I certainly won't let them steal my coffee maker. No fucking way.
Tristan took a deep breath and was about to throw a punch at the stranger when he recognized the familiar mop of red curls rummaging through the fridge.
"Nicolai?"
Nic poked his head out of the fridge, his gray eyes wide and curious. The corners of his mouth spread into a grin when he realized who called his name.
"Yo," he greeted loudly. "Hey there, cousin! It's been a while, eh?" He held out his hand and made a fist, looking expectantly at his blonde-haired cousin.
Tristan rolled his eyes and decided to humor his cousin. He bumped his fist against Nic's. "Yeah, I guess," he shrugged.
Not that he had anything against Nic, but the guy hadn't been around since he moved in three weeks ago. He didn't see Nic at the coffee shop or at school that often, too. How the hell was he supposed to respond properly, then? He was never a fan of being a kiss ass, so welcoming his cousin with open arms was definitely not an option.
"I didn't know that you were going to drop by," Tristan said, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter while Nic finally closed the refrigerator door. The redhead opened a pack of Cheetos and began eating it.
"I live here, too," Nic sarcastically pointed out as he chewed on his chips. Tristan rolled his eyes. "Well, until today, that is," he clarified.
"What?" Tristan gasped. Although he kind of anticipated this news from his cousin, he didn't expect it to be so soon.
Sure, he liked living on his own, since he was already used to that kind of lifestyle, but what would Aunt Kelly say if she found out about her son moving out of their apartment?
Tristan knew that they were both adults now, that they didn't need any kind of parental consent or supervision, and that they could do anything as they pleased, but he didn't want his aunt to worry about her son too much. Nic moving out of their apartment was going to give Aunt Kelly a fucking migraine, that's for sure.
"Relax, dude," Nic patted his cousin's shoulder with his clean hand. "Mom won't freak out, I promise."
"You know how protective she is when it comes to you," Tristan reminded Nic. It was true—even though both of them were already in college and she was busy with work, Aunt Kelly never failed to check in on them, especially with her red-haired son.
"She's over it," Nic smirked. He threw away the empty pack of Cheetos after he finished eating it, then he licked his cheese-stained fingers clean like a cat. "I already told her last week, man. Just chill, okay?"
"So you're here because you're going to pack up?" Tristan followed his cousin out of the kitchen. He ended up sitting on the sofa at the living room with Nic, who made himself comfortable and turned on the television. Tristan stood up to pick up his groceries.
"Oh, yeah. Before I forget," Nic called out to him when he was in the kitchen again, "I replaced that precious Nescafe of yours, Tristan."
Tristan stopped sorting out his groceries on the breakfast counter and stared at his cousin in utter disbelief. "You stole my coffee?" he demanded, walking back to the living room. "Why didn't you tell me, man?" He glared at him and ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.
His cousin chuckled and changed the channel again. Did Nic seriously thought it was some kind of hilarious prank?
"Jeez, Tristan," Nic sighed loudly. "It's just coffee. And besides, I replaced it already, anyway."
Tristan wanted to point out that it was technically stealing his coffee, since he wasn't informed beforehand that he was going to consume all of it. He hated it when people didn't give him a heads up.
"I sent you a text," Nic said reasonably.
Of course, he was going to tell him that. It was his excuse to everything. Tristan knew for a fact that his cousin never bothered to tell him about "borrowing" his pack of coffee because he never said anything in the first place.
Tristan wanted to confront Nic about it, but he decided to let it go since he was going to move out in a few hours. He might as well be nice to his cousin while he still lived here.
"Yeah, maybe I just forgot about it," Tristan shrugged. He sat down beside Nic on the couch again. "Where are you going to live now?"
"At a frat house," Nic answered simply. Huh. Maybe that's where he was staying at all this time. Well, at least he knew that his cousin wasn't going to be a homeless person.
"Oh," Tristan nodded. He tried to think of something else to say. "That sounds cool."
"Hell yeah," Nic whooped, grinning widely at him and giving him a thumbs up. "It's fucking lit there," he whistled. "I should have joined a frat sooner. Oh, well. Hey, did you buy some booze at the store?"
"No," Tristan replied curtly. Between him and cousin, the latter was more inclined to consume alcohol than caffeine. He briefly wondered why Nic worked at a coffee shop when he could have worked at a local brewery or liquor store instead.
"Huh," Nic mumbled absentmindedly. Tristan also wondered how the guy managed to maintain a decent GPA while drowning himself in alcohol and parties.
Sure, he's had experience with those kinds of things—but one time, when he had gotten too shitfaced at a party on a weekday during his first year in college, the only thing he accomplished was hugging the toilet like his life depended on it and vomiting the entire night.
He hadn't gone to class the next morning and he suffered a terrible hangover all day. He blamed the alcohol and his insufferable desire to get wasted because he was a fucking freshman in college already.
After that incident, he swore off drinking. Okay, so he still wanted to drink every now and then. He knew his limits now, and besides, he wasn't planning on getting wasted every night, anyway. He was perfectly fine with occasional alcohol consumption.
"Well," Tristan spoke again after a moment, finally breaking the ice. Nic kept his eyes glued to the show he was watching. He had to clear his throat to catch Nic's attention. "Take good care of yourself over there." He turned to face his red-haired cousin and held out his fist.
"I will," Nic smiled widely, bumping fists with him at their shared apartment for the last time. "Thanks, man. And don't hesitate to bring chicks over, okay? This fortress is now officially yours."
Tristan almost withdrew his hand and scoffed. He fought the urge do it, though. He knew that Nic wasn't much of a playboy, but maybe his cousin picked up some weird frat boy attitude while he was staying there. It wasn't his business, so he chose to shrug it off.
"Yeah," he said as casual as he could, "I'll take good care of this place, don't worry."
"But don't forget to call or text me if you need help with chicks, alright?" Nic punched his arm playfully. He scratched the back of his neck to keep his temper at bay, he didn't want to get pissed at his cousin just because he was behaving like an asshole.
He knew how nasty their fights usually went, and he didn't want to pick up broken furniture or have an ice pack shoved in his swollen face during his classes.
Tristan wondered if something big happened to him, and that something was enough to change him into a completely different person. But deep down, he knew that Nic wasn't really a bad person; he would always be there for him no matter what, because he was a part of his family.
He just wished that his cousin would stop acting like a complete bastard because it didn't suit him at all. Then again, it wasn't his business anyway, so it would be best if he kept these annoying thoughts to himself.
Maybe he just had to get used to the newly obnoxious asshole version of his cousin. Tristan fought back a snort. Whatever. Nic was going to be fine on his own and he could finally stop stressing about who kept stealing his coffee. That was what mattered.