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Exchanging Names (Lucky's POV)

“Hey, Lucky! Can you come help me with this?”

I spun and looked around until my eyes found Mike across the room. The gangly, scrawny teenager was struggling to carry a box overloaded with syrups from the door to the back area. With a smile, I walked over and ruffled the rusty red hair on the top of his head before I grabbed the box from his hands effortlessly.

He smacked his hands together, rolling his shoulders back dramatically and shooting me a toothy grin, “Gee, thanks. So glad to have a man like you around.”

“Oh, whatever,” I rolled my eyes and backed myself into the back storage area, “Later you’ll be complaining about having such a ‘hawt’ girl steal all your tips. Make up your mind, Mikey Mike.”

Silence followed as the door swung shut behind me. I set the box down and glanced around the well stocked room. Adam and Sandy should feel good about where they were now. A well stocked room that had to be replenished almost daily meant business was great. With it being Spring, it was the off-season in the Kentucky Appalachians and the past few years had been incredibly difficult to survive. This year, they’d gone from being at the shop almost 24/7 just to make ends meet, to hiring two employees and almost never being there at all. It was weird, but I was proud of them.

Cafe O'lait was the premier coffee spot for the town of Blackwater Falls. I had been hired almost three years prior and had seen a lot of ups and downs through that time. During the downs, I let Adam and Sandy pay me with food and the room upstairs that I occupied. When times were good, they provided well for me. Now that times were great, they seemed less stressed and I was making better money than ever before. And the other addition, Mike? He was as solid as a carrot-top looking high school student could come. I wasn’t sure he had a lot of friends outside of work, which sucked, but at least I could make it fun for him while he was here. He came across a bit nerdy and awkward, but always had the best of intentions with everyone he came across.

As I walked back into the cafe, Mike leaned against the counter and shoved the rest of a croissant into his mouth. I arched an eyebrow and rested a hand on my hip. He finished chewing and before he had swallowed, asked, “So, speaking of tips… it is Wednesday. Do you think he’ll be in today?”

My heart may have skipped a beat. Was it really Wednesday? How could I have forgotten while getting ready for work today? I always at least tried to look halfway decent on Wednesdays. Carefully, I caught my reflection in the window leading to the store room. Not too bad. Probably should have showered because my hair was a bit greasy. I pulled my hair back, twisting it into a quick bun and securing it with the hair tie I kept on my wrist.

While Mike continued to grin at me, I cleared my throat and stepped behind the counter, “You know, for a straight high school boy, you seem super concerned with Wyatt and when he’ll be coming in.”

“Ah-ha!” Mike guffawed with laughter, as the bell rang over the door and we manned our stations, “I knew it! I call out for one week and force you to take his order and you’re on a first name basis,” he straightened his back, lengthening his already lanky appearance, “Did you pull the ol’ ‘Oh I’m sorry we’re really busy, can I get a name for your order’ like I told you to?” I blushed a crimson red as Mike continued, “Or did you just bat your eyelashes at him and stand silently at the computer like you always do when he's around?”

“Actually,” a deep voice said from the other side of the counter and I felt my blush deepen at least two shades as the entire room was suddenly very hot, “I just told her my name and that I thought she was cute. Still haven’t caught hers yet, though.”

My mouth went bone-dry. I saw Mike reach up and scratch his head, “Sorry about that, Wyatt. What can I get going for you?”

“No worries, Mike,” Wyatt smiled a stunning, perfect smile and I felt my breath hitch, “I’ll take my usual," he leaned forward slightly, "and your name this time, beautiful.”

It took me way too long to figure out that he was talking to me now and not Mike. He chuckled as I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly, like a fish out of water, and I swear I could have melted. It was warm and wonderful. My heart rate was skyrocketing as I said shakily, “I go by Lucky. Says so on my nametag. Can’t you read?”

Wait, did I just insult him?

Wyatt’s smile faltered slowly, until it disappeared altogether. Mike reached up and smacked the shit out of his forehead. I looked back at Wyatt and opened my mouth to speak and he just shook his head, “Would you mind just starting my coffee, Lucky?” I swear I saw his eyes look over my shaking hands for a moment, “Got somewhere to be.”

Mike and I had a pretty quiet shift after the embarrassment with Wyatt– in terms of both customers and our conversation. Aside from a really quick, “did you think insulting him was flirting with him?”


We closed up the cafe around 5pm just like any other day. Also like any other day, Mike got on his bike and started down the street. He got about a block away before he turned and waved goodbye. I waved back and shot him a small smile, though the interaction with Wyatt was definitely still plaguing my mind.

This wasn’t a movie, it was life. Insulting a hot guy didn’t lead to steamy romances. And I didn’t even want a steamy romance so why was I even acting interested? Wait. Who was I kidding? Interested? I was acting like a stupid kid that knew nothing about guys or life in general. That wasn’t me, and it certainly wasn’t how I acted with strangers.

As I finished locking up the door with this stream of nonsensical thoughts, I tried to physically shake my head and clear it up a bit. I was able to recall the small list of items I had to do before settling in for the night: groceries, shower, dinner, check security… Go to sleep. Repeat for all of eternity.

The trek to the grocery store was almost as short as the list of groceries I could afford with the day's tips. I made my way back to the cafe. I walked down the left alley of the building and walked up the rusted metal stairs that led to the upstairs storage room.

Adam and Sandy were nice enough to have let me stay there for the last two (almost three) years. The door creaked open and I made a mental note that I should grab the WD-40 from downstairs before I closed it firmly and locked it back up. Boxes, broken appliances, and dust littered the entire space. In the center of the room was my bed. I had a makeshift dresser (an old box) to the right and a nightstand that doubled as my kitchen on the left. It harbored two dishes and a microwave that made it possible for me to survive. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. After so long, it was pretty much home and they were my family.

I tossed my keys and grocery bags onto the bed and headed toward the bathroom. The bathroom harbored a toilet and a small laundry sink that only had hot water. I got comfortable and started the water. My anxiety was high as I started to shower.

After almost three full years of not seeing anyone I had known, I was getting comfortable. For fucks sake, I was attempting to flirt. What was I thinking? I couldn’t lay down any roots. I was being an idiot. If I wanted to be able to act that way, to get comfortable and to let my guard down, I needed to leave the Appalachians.

I wasn’t any closer than I was three years ago. It had gotten easy to pretend that this was who I am– a small town barista that flirts with the locals and isn’t going anywhere.

But I wasn’t and I needed to remember that everyday or...

I was going to get caught and killed!

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