“Anything else?” asked the red-haired barista with a smile. “Would you perhaps like something to eat?”
Kieron looked scrutinizingly at the shelves of the display fridge. “Um… what would you recommend?”
“The gluten-free lemon cake is very nice.” Which meant it wasn’t selling well and they wanted to push it, Kieron thought cynically.
“Just the coffee, please,” he said. He gave the girl a five-pound note and felt bad that he got so little change back. Then he went to the edge of the counter where the coffee with his name on it would magically appear – spelled wrong. Oh well, as long as they pronounced it correctly, he didn’t care about the rest.
He looked around the space. The café was new, on a side street near the shopping center he usually went to. Bex had brought him to this café about two weeks ago, after they returned from America. On this street, more unusual shops were hidden – those that sold black or purple women’s clothes with lots of lace or embroidery, or men’s clothes that looked excessively tight and you probably had to have a hipster beard just to try them on. Oh, there was also a comic book shop and one with electronic games. A friend of Kieron’s from school worked there and when the manager wasn’t looking, he gave him the employee discount.
“Kieron?”
“Yes?” he said, looking behind him.
It was Beth. “Your coffee’s ready.” “Thanks.” He had placed his things – his laptop bag and school books – on a small table for two just to save the seat.
He looked at the books, feeling a wave of despair wash over him. He had started the new school year just as he returned from America, but things were not going well. Within three days, the jeering had begun: “emo!”, “scream!”, “loser,” along with comments like “Why don’t you go get a proper haircut, man?” In fact, someone had secretly painted his school locker pitch black, which he would normally have liked, except the paint had dripped and stained the lower lockers and the floor, so it took him a whole hour to convince the principal that he hadn’t done it.