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Latte, Galão, Blonde, Turkish, Quad+

by Emma Piper


Person lying sideways on a bed in a dimly lit room, with a gray pillow and closed blinds. The mood is calm and quiet.
Image credit: Greg Pappas on Unsplash

Cassia’s eyes slowly open to a pounding headache as her eyes adjust to the morning light coming in through the windows. She groans and turns over in bed, her body feeling weak from last night. She feels around the bed for her phone, searching everywhere without actually looking. She finally finds it between her pillows and tries to check the time, only to be met with a black screen and the battery icon indicating that her phone is dead. She fumbles around for her charger, finding the cord dangling in its usual spot, and plugs in her phone. She tilts her head up in order to see the clock on her nightstand, which reads 9:42 am.

“Shit!” She exclaims, shoving the blankets off her body and practically jumping out of bed. She’s immediately met with a dizzy spell and has to place her hand on the wall to steady herself and fight back the nausea. Cassia’s supposed to be at the coffee shop by 10 a.m. for her shift, and the shop is ten minutes away, and that’s on a good day with no traffic. With her head still throbbing, Cassia grabs jeans and a black t-shirt, her standard work attire, along with a bra and socks, not caring if the socks matched at this point. She quickly strips out of her pajamas and puts on her clothes before going into the bathroom. She brushes her hair and gathers it into a ponytail, applies deodorant, and reaches for her toothbrush, needing to be rid of the alcohol lingering on her breath after last night. As she hurriedly brushes her teeth, moments from the previous night begin flashing in her head. The memories were hazy and mixed up, no doubt due to the shots she’d taken. But there was one clear moment that neither she nor her memory could deny. She had kissed someone last night.

Cassia kissed a girl last night.

She pushes the thought away and finishes brushing her teeth before rushing back into her room to grab her keys, her phone, and put on her shoes. Her phone had only 3% battery, she’d have to borrow a charger from someone at work, and she had at least two dozen notifications from various social media apps and several text messages. She turns her phone off for now, grabs her things, and heads for the kitchen, where she takes a dose of Tylenol before heading out the door to her car. As she drives to the shop, her mind begins to replay moments from last night. Memories of loud music, crowded rooms, dancing, and drinking filled her head as she drove, her thoughts drifting to remember the girl from last night.

Alison, or Alice, was her name. She was tall, at least 5’9”, with brown, messy hair and green eyes. She was dressed in dark jeans, a white t-shirt, a flannel, and black sneakers. She had multiple chains around her neck, both silver and gold, and three piercings on each ear. Cassia considered herself to be quite average-looking, especially in comparison to Alice. Cassia’s jet-black hair and brown eyes had always made her feel basic. Last night she’d worn a pair of light jeans, cuffed at the ankles, a band t-shirt, and her high-top Converse. The only jewelry she had on was the matching bracelet her best friend Kit had made for them years ago. 

Cassia had first noticed the girl from across the room. Alice was staring at her curiously, watching her dance with Kit. They made eye contact, and she gestured for Cassia to come over. She made her way across the room nervously, her heart beating slightly faster than normal, which at the time, she blamed on the tequila. The two talked for about ten minutes before Alice pulled Cassia over to the center of the room that had been designated as the dance floor. They danced and sang along to the popular songs playing over the speakers for a while before Alice began to look at her intensely. The two of them held eye contact for a long moment before Alice placed her hand on Cassia’s cheek and leaned in to kiss her. 

The sound of a car horn shook Cassia out of her memory. The stoplight had turned green while she was lost in thought. She moves her foot on the gas pedal and continues driving to the coffee shop, arriving with barely enough time to get inside and clock in. Most of her shift went on as normal. Customers came in and ordered their cappuccinos, americanos, and their soy lattes with no foam and caramel drizzle and other modifications that make the drink taste more like sugar than it does coffee. 

By 12:30 p.m., business had slowed down considerably. Cassia took advantage of the break and went to look at her phone, which had been charging in the back since her coworker, Maia, let her borrow her charger. At least half of the notifications she’d seen earlier were from Kit, asking if she had gotten home safely, if she was hurt, and of course, inquiring about the “hot girl” from last night. 

Kit had been Cassia’s best friend since the eighth grade. They knew her better than anyone, but they tended to be a bit of a worrier. Sure, having someone who’s constantly checking up on you could become annoying for some people, but Cassia found it endearing. She knew that no matter how bad things would get sometimes, Kit was always a text or phone call away. After high school, Cassia and Kit had been accepted to different colleges, and they had promised to text each other at least once a day or else they would drive to the other’s school to ensure the other was alright. To Cassia, it was a joke, but she knew Kit would be crazy enough to do it. 

She sent a quick text message to Kit to assure them that she was fine, “Hey, I’m sorry, I got home last night and totally crashed. I’m at work right now but I’ll call you when my shift’s over, okay? <3,” She then put her phone down and headed back to the front.

Person pours water from a kettle into a Chemex coffee maker on a cafe counter. Steam rises, creating a cozy atmosphere with blurred background.
Image credit: Karl Fredrickson on Unsplash

She heard the familiar chime of the bell, signaling that a new customer had walked through the door. She looks up and sees Becca, a regular customer at the shop, and for the first time, Cassia notices how unique and beautiful her eyes are. Her deep, blue eyes paired well with her blonde hair and black rimmed glasses. She was dressed in loose jeans, white Vans, and a V-neck t-shirt, paired with a light blue button-down that she’d left open. She wore several silver necklaces and had rings on almost all her fingers.

Because Becca came in often, Cassia had her order memorized by now, an iced vanilla and hazelnut latte with almond milk, but she went through her usual greeting anyway. “Welcome to Cuppa Coffee, how are you today?” Cassia asks in her best customer service voice.

“I’m doing really well, how are you?” Becca answers. It’s not often that customers take time to respond, and even less often that the customer asks the worker how they’re doing, which makes people like Becca extra special.

“I’m great,” Cassia replies with a genuine smile. “What can I get started for you?” 

“Yeah, can I get a medium, iced vanilla and hazelnut latte with almond milk, please?” she orders her usual while taking her card out of her wallet to pay. Cassia grabs a cup and writes the order down for the barista.

“Of course. Is that all for you?” 

“Yep, that’s it,” she answers.

“Can I have a name for the order?” she asks, not wanting to seem weird by remembering Becca’s name.

“Yeah, Becca,” she says. “With two Cs,” she adds, clarifying the spelling. “Not that it matters, I mean-” she cuts off. “Never mind,” there’s a soft flush on her cheeks as she seems to be embarrassed. 

“Alright, Becca with two Cs,” Cassia says to keep the joke going, “That’ll be $5.13, tap when you’re ready,” she says, smiling at Becca, and she smiles in return.

“Thanks…” Becca says, trailing off as she squints a bit to read Cassia’s name tag.

“Cassia, wow, that’s a really pretty name,” she finishes, placing her card back in her wallet.

“Oh, uhm, thank you,” Cassia replies nervously, a blush rising slightly on her cheeks. 

Becca walks to one of the smaller tables towards the back of the shop, sits down, and pulls out a laptop, which is covered in stickers, along with a yellow notebook and a few pens. She opens her laptop, and one particular sticker catches Cassia’s eye from across the store. A rectangular sticker with rainbow stripes, a pride flag sticker. 

Does that mean she’s gay? Cassia thinks to herself before coming to her senses. She hasn’t truly had a moment to herself to process what happened at the party last night. Now that she was alone with her thoughts, the gravity of her actions hit her. She had kissed a girl in the middle of a party. Cassia wasn’t one to care what others thought of her, but in this scenario, she felt uneasy knowing that at least a dozen people witnessed their kiss. With her memory still foggy, she decides to call Kit, who hopefully remembers more as they drank less than Cassia did.

“Hey, Maia, can you cover the register for a minute? I’m going to take a bathroom break.” Cassia asks her coworker.

“Yeah, I got you, go ahead,” she answers, walking over to take Cassia’s place. 

“Thank you,” she says before walking through the back to get their phone to call Kit from the bathroom. She closes and locks the bathroom door before selecting Kit’s contact and calling them. They answer by the second ring. 

“Hey,” Kit’s voice says through the speaker, “Are you off work already?” 

“No, I said I needed a bathroom break,” Cassia replies, “I just need to talk to you for a minute.”

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?” Kit responds, their tone changing from confusion to worry immediately. 

“How much do you remember about last night?” Cassia asks.

“Probably more than you,” Kit replies before laughing.

“I’m serious, Kit.”

“Okay, sorry. What part of the night are you not remembering?”

“The uhm… the girl, Alice… the one that I kissed,” Cassia says, her voice a bit quieter now.

“Yeah, what about her?” Kit’s tone shifts. They no longer sound worried; if anything, they sound excited.

“How many people do you think saw that?” 

“Well, most people on the dance floor probably did, and those people could’ve talked about it with other people. It’s hard to guess how many,” Kit answers earnestly. Cassia doesn’t reply, and Kit quickly adds on. “But nearly everyone there was drunk out of their minds; they probably don’t remember or care.”

“Have you been on social media today?” Cassia asks them.

“Yeah, why?”

“Has anyone talked about it?” she asks nervously.

“Cass, listen, I need you to take a deep breath. I get why you’d be worried. But I’m gonna be real with you. No one gives a fuck.”

“What?” Cassia replies, surprised by how blunt Kit’s being.

“I know that with your specific anxiety, it feels like everyone is watching and talking about you at all times. But the reality is, everyone is too caught up in their own shit to care about yours.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. And even if people from the party were talking about it, within 24 hours, they’ll move on to some other drama,” Cassia takes a deep breath, realizing that Kit’s right. 

“Okay, I know you’re right, but can you just promise me that if you see something on socials, you’ll let me know?” 

“Fine, yes. I’ll let you know if I see anything, but I’d be willing to bet that I won’t.” 

“Thank you,” Cassia replies before sighing.

“So?” Kit continues.

“So what?”

“How was it? The kiss?” Kit asks, clearly excited now.

“Kit, I-I don’t know, I really can’t talk about this right now. My head is still pounding, and I need to get back to work,” Cassia hears Kit sigh dramatically through the phone.

“Fine. But I want to hear everything when you get back. I was dead asleep when you left this morning.

“Yeah, the best part about having you stay over when you visit is not worrying about waking you up,” Cassia laughs and leans against the wall.

“Hey, if you’d grown up with three younger siblings, you’d learn to sleep through loud noises too,” Kit replies before also laughing. “Now get back to work or else people are going to think you’re taking a shit.”

“Gross Kit.”

“But you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Try not to burn down the apartment,” she jokes.

“No promises!” Kit teases before hanging up. Cassia rolls her eyes and puts her phone away. She washes her hands and leaves the bathroom to return to work.


*


A couple of hours later, Cassia’s shift ends. She was getting ready to leave when she notices Becca was still at the table in the back. Her head is down in her palms as her elbows rest on the table. Her table is slightly messy, which is unusual for her. Cassia had taken notice that Becca was always neat and didn’t leave a mess whenever she came to the shop. Maybe it was her conscience, or maybe her heart, but something wouldn’t let Cassia leave without checking on Becca.

“Hey, are you okay?” Cassia asks Becca when she reaches the table. Becca lifts her head to see who’s come to check on her.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine. It’s Cassia, right?”

“Yeah, but you can call me Cass. If you want to, I mean,” she says, trying to calm her nerves as Becca smiles at her.

“Okay, Cass,” Becca says, her smile still present, “I’m Becca, with two Cs,” recalling the moment earlier that seemed to be an inside joke now.

“Yeah, I know,” Cassia says. Her face flushes, and she immediately tries to correct herself. “I mean, I remember, like from earlier.”

Becca laughs, almost like she’s enjoying Cassia’s nerves.

“Anyway, I just wanted to check on you before I left,” Cassia continues.

“Oh, is the shop closing?” Becca asks, checking the time on her laptop.

“No, you’re good, my shift is over, that’s all.”

“Okay, good,” Becca relaxes in her seat again, “But yes, I’m fine, just a little stressed out over school.”

“I hear you there,” Cassia relates, “Where do you go to school?”

“I go to Westerfall University,” Becca answers.

“Wait, really? Me too. What do you study?” Cassia asks, sitting down in the other chair at the table.

“Social work. What about you?”

“English,” Cassia says with a smile.

“Really? What are you focusing on?” Becca inquires further.

“Nothing specific. Just a general English degree.”

“I wonder if you know my sister, she’s an English Literature major.”

“I might, what’s her name?” Cassia asks. Becca pulls out her phone while she answers.

Two people are sharing an intimate moment, holding glasses of red wine. Warm lighting creates a romantic atmosphere.
Image credit: Olga Solodilova on Unsplash

“Alison. But she goes by Alice to most people.” Becca turns her phone around to Cassia and shows her a picture of her and Alice standing together. The same Alice that Cassia kissed at the party last night. 

“So? Do you know her?” Becca reiterates after a few seconds of silence.

“Uh, no, sorry, she doesn’t look familiar,” Cassia says, sitting up straighter in her seat.

“No worries,” Becca puts her phone down, “It’s a big department, I’m not surprised you haven’t crossed paths.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of us,” Cassia’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She checks it and sees a text from Kit asking when she’s coming back. “Sorry, I have to get going,” Cassia says, standing up from the chair.

“No problem, I’ll see you around, Cass,” Becca says with a smile and a wave.

“Yeah, see ya,” Cassia turns and walks out of the coffee shop, immediately calling Kit once she reaches the car.

“Hey, when are you coming back?” Kit asks when they answer.

“I’m leaving work now. You might want to make yourself some popcorn or order a pizza. I need to talk to you,” Cassia tells them while starting the car.

“Way ahead of you, Cass. Pepperoni or sausage?” they ask.

“Do half and half,” Cassia answers.

“I’ll call it in,” Kit hangs up the call, and Cassia drives back to her apartment, needing to talk about everything that’s happened and glad she has her best friend here for it.


***

A person with glasses smiles softly, resting their chin on their hand. They have long hair and are indoors with curtains in the background. Black and white image.
Emma Piper



Emma Piper was born and raised in Northern Virginia and is currently a student at Longwood University. This short story began as a submission for a creative writing class and is now her first-ever published work. As a sociology major, reading, writing, and singing have become creative outlets to keep her life balanced. After graduating in 2026, she hopes to pursue a career in the writing field, such as journalism or editing.

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redrosethorns journal. All rights reserved. ISSN: 2978-5316 (online)

UK: Published online by redrosethorns Ltd., registered in England & Wales No. 16437585.

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