Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,57

shut. “Misha, I’d spill my guts about anything in this world for your cheesecake. We should do this more often; you give me cheesecake, and I sing like the canary that I obviously am.”

“You’re a cheesecake whore,” I tease.

“Definitely.”

For the next few hours, we talk about our childhood, not about the current situation, and it makes me remember why we were such close friends. It feels good to laugh with Noah again. Through the load of crap he and I are going through, there’s a small blossom of friendship between us blooming. At least that’s one good thing to come out of all this.

26

Jake

Mama Java’s is busier than usual for a Monday afternoon. I planned to be off work by three, but when I look up from the register and see Drew standing by the front door, it’s then I realize I must be running late. A quick glance at the clock tells me it’s already a quarter after.

I hop out from behind the counter and jog over to Drew, who is wearing a black jacket with the hood up and sunglasses. “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

He looks around the coffee shop and then outside to the parking lot. “No problem.”

“Is there something wrong?”

He slides the sunglasses to the edge of his nose and lowers his voice. “I think I was followed here.”

“By?”

“You know who …” His eyes are wide.

“Misha?”

“Shh! You can’t say her name!” He presses a finger up to my lips. “She can’t know we’re meeting. I’ll receive traitor status, and I don’t want to be burned at the stake.”

I move his hand from my face and take his sunglasses off. “Okay, you’re overly paranoid. Misha did not follow you here.”

Drew snatches the glasses back from me and puts them in his pocket. “Yeah, I know. But it made this meeting feel so much more mysterious and dramatic. I need a little spice in my life every so often. Now, you asked me to meet you so we can figure out a way to get you and Misha back together. It took you freaking long enough,” he huffs and lowers his hood.

“I’d offer you a coffee, but you obviously don’t need caffeine.”

“Oh, please? I want you to write something cute on my coffee cup.”

While he’s busy giggling to himself, I point to the vacant table in the corner. “Sit. Now.”

He bounces the entire way to the table and sits in the empty seat. “All right, what are your ideas?”

“I don’t know. I’ve tried calling, texting, emailing, but no answer. I’ve come by the apartment, and she won’t open the door. I honestly have no clue how to get her to listen to me for just ten minutes. That’s all I need to clear this up.”

“You need to catch her off guard in a public place,” Drew says, thinking out loud. “The only places she’s been going to are the gym and the farmers market, but I don’t suggest either of those.”

“Could you take her out somewhere and I could accidentally bump into you guys?”

Drew’s eyes light up, and his mouth drops. “We’re going to the Fallen Shadows concert in three weeks.”

Deep within my chest, I can feel a bud of hope blooming. “That’s perfect!”

“But tickets are sold out,” he mentions.

“What about the ticket resale sites? Or scalpers?”

Drew and I both search on our phones for available tickets anywhere online.

Less than a minute later, he whistles lowly, and I know it’s not good. “Damn. I can’t find anything under five hundred for a pair, and those are nosebleed in the balcony.”

I’m finding the same results. My brain is telling me that paying five hundred dollars for a concert is absolutely ridiculous, but my heart is screaming that it’s likely the only way I’ll be able to be in contact with Misha. My fingers quickly move across the screen of my phone, and in less than thirty seconds, I’m the proud owner of two balcony seats to the Fallen Shadows concert. I’m also six hundred twenty dollars down, thanks to the ticket prices and fuck you fees attached to them.

“Done. I’ll be there.”

“Wait, you just bought tickets?” he questions, clearly doubting me.

I hold my phone up, so he’s able to read the ticket information off the screen.

“Wow. You must really love her to spend that much money just to get the opportunity to talk to her.”

“I’d pay double.” It’s the truth.

“I must say, groveling is a good look on you.”

“Why are you willing to help me, by the way? When I