Page 9 of Scoring Chance
“Imiss summer,” my coworker Cammie whines as she puts the finishing touches on a frothy drink.
I take the concoction from her and put it on the counter. “Caramel Delight Frappe for Colin,” I call as a kid who has freshman written all over him walks up to get it. Between the brand-new Bainbridge tee, the crisp white Wolves hat, and the bag of free samples from orientation, my bet is that this kid’s parents dropped him off about two hours ago.
“How can you miss summer?” Theo asks from his place at the register. “It’s still August. The autumnal equinox is a month away.”
“You talk like I know what that is,” she says, shrugging. “Besides, look at this place. It’s crawling with customers because classes start in a couple days. And that means we’re busy. Remember last week when this place was a ghost town in the middle of the afternoon? Those were the days.”
“Maybe it’ll slow down—”
Theo’s words are cut off by the chime of the bells over the door. As if his wishful words summoned them, half a dozen hockey players pile into our lobby.
Drip isn’t a tiny coffee shop, but it feels that way when half the hockey team is here. They’re big guys, physically speaking. But their personalities are larger than life too. I’ve been friends with Ollie and Van for a couple years, and since Booker and Ian got together, I’ve gotten closer with a lot of the guys. I wave in their direction as I watch them file into line.
Cammie and I fill the orders we know by heart now, as well as a few new ones. Cammie’s prattling on about an awful date she had this weekend, and the look on my face must give something away.
“Uh-oh,” she says, shaking up an iced lemon tea breeze. “You look like your weekend was worse than mine.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” I say, shaking my head to assure her. “Saying ‘see you later’ to Ian was tough, but he’s texted me six times today, so I know I’ll never really be rid of him.”
“Then what put that awful look on your face? Did you have a terrible blind date too?”
“No, you still hold the record for most disastrous blind dates. But I ran into my ex, and it was less than pleasant.”
“Ugh. You know what you need, don’t you?” she asks as she tops Santos’ strawberry-kiwi frappe with tons of whipped cream, just the way he likes it.
“Uh…to go on break?” I say just loud enough for Theo to hear. He laughs since my last break was half an hour ago.
“No way,” Cammie says. “I’m up next. What you need, Mel, is to get well and truly fucked.”
For the first time since I started working at Drip, I’m grateful for the ear-crushing sounds of the blender.
“I’m serious,” she tells me.
“I know you are. That’s what worries me.”
“Come on, Mel. That guy messed with your head. And your confidence. What you need is to get back in the game.”
“I’m pretty sure what Ineedis to stop playing the game for a while,” I tell her as I set a trio of drinks on the counter.
“Nope. You are wrong. In fact, what you really need is a hot hockey player,” Cammie tells me with authority as she leans against the counter.
I dump a few dishes in the sink and start the water. “Let’s agree to disagree on that one.”
Cammie just shrugs, not bothered in the least by my resistance. “It worked for Ian.”
“Fair point, but you’re forgetting something. Those guys are like brothers to me. The thought of dating one of them? No, thank you.” The bell chimes again, and I get ready for another onslaught of customers.
Cammie’s unfazed by the line at the register. While we make a seemingly endless string of drinks, she does her best to pimp out the single members of BU’s hockey team.
“What about Ollie? His body is unreal in just shorts and a T-shirt. Can you imagine him naked?”
I shake my head vigorously. “Hell no. He's my partner-in-crime. He’s like a brother to me. There’s no way I’m picturing him naked.”
“Ok, how about Van? Half the campus would give their right arm for a date with that guy.”
“No,” I answer quickly. “I make it a point not to date guys prettier than me.”
“Santos?”
