The Daisy Of My Café

• Gabrielle Duncan, Grade 12, St Francis Xavier College - Senior Campus
• Short Story
• 2017

Excellence Award in the 'Spread The Word 2017' competition

And there she was.
7:30am sharp and she glides in as if swept in by the morning breeze. The sun is at her back and for a moment she appears a darkened silhouette, whose back is always chased by the suns warmth. The door closes and her features bloom in the lights of the café.
She’s wearing mint today, and light colour contrasts pleasantly with her dark skin. She looks fresh and the delicate blush to her cheeks from the morning cold makes the air around her fizzle with life. Her dark curls cascade over her white jacket and I’m reminded of a daisy bursting through the snow. She’s walking over now, her lips stretching into a smile so genuine my heart stops beating and I have to remember how to breathe. As she draws closer to the counter, I notice she’s more subdued and is fidgeting with her glasses self-consciously.
I’m probably making her uncomfortable with my staring. I begin to make a pointed effort to look at anything that isn’t her. Fiddling with the register screen in such an unnatural fashion, I’m sure she can tell I’m faking it.
I force my eyes up to meet hers and try to coax my mouth into a smile.
“Hi, welcome to Muffin Central, what can I get you?” I ask as if I didn’t already have her usual order memorised. She blinks and stares for a beat too long and then determinedly gazes at the menu behind me. I feel my smile shrink as my cheeks colour and I wonder if meeting her eyes made it worse. Nodding to herself silently, she looks back at me and I instinctively straighten.
“Hot chocolate and a-…” she stops herself. She glances at me and her face seems to heat up. She hurriedly switches her attention back to our menu. I begin to fret that it’s too warm in the café before she finally works up the courage to continue.
“Valentine cupcake please.” I go numb in surprise and robotically finish her placing her order. Every year we sell exclusive valentine cupcakes for one day that we advertise as the best way to confess your feelings. I’m too concentrated on the way she anxiously fiddles with her glasses again to fight back the lump that has formed in my gut as the reality hits me. I kick myself for ever falling for someone so out of my league that I can barely mumble a ‘goodbye’ as she pays and begins to leave. Miserable, I look up to her one final time before I realise she has left something. Taken aback, I pick up a small pastry with a hastily scribbled note on its side. She had signed her name and number and addressed it to a familiar name. I look up in surprise to see her give a small wave and a flustered smile before I look down at my own name tag and back at the cupcake.
It’s my own name.