Just keep busy, don't even look at them. I give a sideways glance in their direction and see Ginny whispering in Melissa's ear. Melissa turns to look at me and breaks into a huge grin. "Cousin Dater, is that you?" she asks.

* * *

Melissa Stillwell ruined my entire junior year when she nicknamed me Cousin Dater. I had only just started getting over it this past summer after she graduated and I thought I'd never have to see her again. It happened at the homecoming dance. I had never gone to a high school dance before and my mom was all over me to go to this one. "You'll regret it years from now if you don't go," she said. "You'll look back at your high school yearbook and wish you had those memories." Yeah, right. Wishing for memories would have been more fun than being stuck with the ones I've got.

I had never been good with guys, so my mom suggested I take my über-hot cousin Nathan. Of course I didn't want to at first (I mean, ew ... gross, he's my cousin!) but she convinced me that no one would ever know, and Nathan was so incredibly good-looking and so popular at his school that it would totally boost my reputation. After a few weeks of going back and forth with her, I finally agreed.

The dance started out just fine. I could totally tell that people were impressed with my date. But then stupid, selfish Nathan couldn't keep with the plan. I went into the bathroom to fix my makeup and when I came out I saw Nathan totally hitting on Melissa in front of the soda machine. I ran over to him, looped his arm with mine, and tried to yank him away but he wasn't budging. Melissa said, "Is this your date?" and Nathan replied, "Not really, I'm just doing a favor for my mom. This is my cousin Jane."

Well, that was that. Melissa nicknamed me "Cousin Dater" and made sure that everyone in attendance at the Lincoln High homecoming dance knew that I was there with my cousin. I was MORTIFIED. Nathan left with Melissa and I had to find a ride home.

The nickname, unfortunately, caught on. Soon people I had never even met were calling me "Cousin Dater." My mom said, "Don't worry. It'll blow over. There will be a new drama with someone else next week and they'll forget all about you." Yeah. I inadvertently ticked Melissa off a week later and my destiny was sealed. We were in the same Spanish class and the teacher told me to ask Melissa for a pen in español I somehow mistranslated and ended up calling her a pig. The whole class laughed and I knew I was doomed. Never piss off the pretty people.


"It IS you, isn't it?" Melissa asks again. I hand her back her credit card. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Oh, come on, you're the girl who took her hottie cousin to the Lincoln High homecoming last year. What was his name again?" She looks at Ginny. "Ethan or something, right? I went on a date with him. Terrible kisser." She flares her nostrils in disgust at the memory. I busy myself making the two lattes. Where are Sarah and Em? Why couldn't one of them make Melissa's blasted coffees? I stare straight ahead at the espresso machine and draw the first shot. I can feel tears starting to sting my eyes.

Do NOT cry! The two girls move over to the counter to get in a better position to taunt me.

"So, Jane Turner, isn't it?" Melissa asks. "Still dating family members, Jane?" Both girls laugh.

I grab the cream instead of the skim milk and pour it into the foaming pitcher. There we go–we'll see who's laughing when she gets on the scale later.


"Ah, seriously, all kidding aside. What are you doing with yourself, Jane? You are a senior this year, right? Or did you drop out of high school to be a coffee girl?"

Melissa smiles.

"I'm a barista," I nearly whisper.

"I'm sorry, what's that?" she says.

"A barista," I reply louder, "not a 'coffee girl.' " Melissa and Ginny both laugh even harder. Just then Em comes up behind me.

"What's so funny?" she asks, immediately recognizing both girls.

"Jane ..." Melissa sputters. "She's ... just so funny."

"Well, it looks like your drinks are ready," Em says curtly.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your apron on." Melissa glares at Em before turning to address me. "Looks like we'll be seeing you often, Jane. Ginny and I are going to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago just up the street. It's a top fashion school."


"I know." I try to act unimpressed when secretly I totally am. That's the school I'm waiting to hear from. I've wanted to study fashion there for as long as I can remember, way before all of the fashion reality TV shows made it supercool for everyone and their sister to study fashion. And Melissa's at my DC. I feel sick.

"Where did you say you want to go to school again?"

Melissa asks.

"I didn't. Have a nice day," I tell her. I grab a rag and begin to clean the back counter. I hear the girls giggle as they leave the store. I pull out my notebook from underneath the espresso machine and quickly write: Small Nonfat Latte

Bitch.

"What was that about?" Em asks once the girls are gone. "And what's with your hair?"

"Oh." I let down my hair and then pin it back up again, neatly this time, with the clip. "It was my disguise.


Not like it worked or anything. As for Melissa and Ginny–I don't know. I guess they didn't have enough time torturing me last year, so they thought they'd follow me throughout life."

"You shouldn't put up with their crap, Jane."

"I know. But forget about them. What happened with Derek? You aren't in trouble, are you?"

"In trouble? Why would you think that?"

"Sarah thought you looked scared when you came in,"

I tell her.

Em laughs. "Scared, no. Irritated, yes. I hate coming in early. Especially when I'm not getting paid for it. And I had wanted to get some studying done before work." Em is taking advanced everything. She wants to be prelaw at DePaul University next year and she's very serious about keeping up her 3.8 GPA. I pull out a box of whipped cream lids from a cabinet to restock up front.

"So what did Derek want, then?" I ask.


"Oh, you're not going to believe this. He wants me to be the assistant manager! Like I have any bloody time to be the assistant manager!" Em is not British, but adopts a British accent whenever she gets really mad. It started shortly after we saw Bridget Jones's Diary.

"Really? That's kind of neat." I wonder why he didn't ask me. I have nothing but time. Not to mention I've been working here longer than Em.

"Well, I told him no," she says. "The extra two dollars an hour is not worth the headaches."

Raise? I could use a raise. "Hey, are you okay up here for a minute?"

"Sure. Where are you going?"

"To talk to Derek," I say, and give her a wink. Time to make things happen.

2

"All right, ladies , stop your yapping and listen up," Derek says as he approaches the coffee counter. Ever the charmer, that one is. Sarah and Em both glare at Derek, arms folded across their chests. Derek is a mid-thirties American Rock Star contestant wannabe (seriously ... he tried out and didn't make it on the show), with a shaved head, tat sleeves, and the beginnings of a beer belly. "I'd like you to meet your new assistant manager." I step out from behind Derek and give the girls jazz hands. Ta da!

"Omigod Jane! That is so cool!" Sarah squeals.

"Totally!" Em agrees. I'm so glad she's not mad that I went and talked to Derek right after she turned down the job.

"Yeah, yeah, somebody's got to do it," Derek interjects. "Your faith in me is underwhelming, Derek," I say, and pat him on the back. He shoots me daggers with his eyes before heading to his office. Okay, the pat might have been a bit much. Just because we are both management now doesn't mean we should touch. As soon as Derek is out of earshot we all laugh.

"Seriously, that's great, Jane. I'm glad you took the job," Em says as she hugs me.

Did I mention that she is the greatest best friend ever?

"What are we celebrating?" Gavin, my absolute favorite regular, approaches the counter.

"Hey, Gav! I've just been crowned assistant manager," I tell him.

"That's great!" He reaches over the counter and hugs me, too. I'm getting all the love today. "Congrats!"

"Hey, I've got Gavin," I say to Em and Sarah. "The usual, right?" Gavin comes in almost every day and orders the same thing, a medium iced vanilla latte.

He nods, already handing me the $3.89 in cash. I mark the plastic cup, slide it over to Sarah to make, and lean toward Gavin on my elbows.

"So, what's new with you?" I ask.

"Not too much," he says with a slight hesitation.

"Well, that isn't totally true. Anne and I broke up yesterday."

"Ooh, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Actually I am pretty okay with it. Our relationship had run its course. I'm too young to be tied down anyway, right?" He laughs.

"Sure! That's a good attitude, Gav. I'm glad you aren't letting it bring you down."

"Medium iced vanilla latte," Sarah bellows, no more than three feet away from us.

"That's my call," he says, picking up his drink and popping in the straw. "See you tomorrow." He takes a sip and heads for the door.

"Later." I smile. "Did you hear that?" I ask, stepping over to the girls, who have begun refilling the cookie and coffee cake trays in the glass showcase.


"Yeah, it's too bad," Em says. "He's a good guy."

"He is," I agree, and wipe down the pick-up counter with a wet white rag. "We should totally set him up with someone." I mentally list all the cool girls that I know.