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0.
In Toni’s defense, it truly was an accident.
But, as she will eventually come to realize, all of the best things in her life really are.
i.
Her job at Coffee & Sons — a basic name, she knows — is fairly average. It sits just on the edge of the university, so a good majority of their customers are tired college kids looking for a quiet place to work or some caffeine before they head to their classes. Her boss is fairly cool, she has time to focus on homework, and the pay is definitely better than her previous job.
The only downside she’s found so far is the most recent event: one of their employees had sort of just quit last minute, resulting in everyone’s shifts moving around for the next month, and well, here she is, at seven in the morning.
The sun has yet to even make an appearance, and Toni lets out a loud sigh. She’s already thirty minutes into her shift, and only two people have stopped by to get some coffee. She doesn’t quite understand why they open at this time, because who would be crazy enough to schedule their classes in what’s practically the middle of the night? Any other day, she would be fast asleep in her bed.
Another fifteen minutes go by, and Toni, resting her chin on her palm and on the verge of straight up falling asleep right then and there barely even hears the familiar ding-a-ling! of the bells attached to the door that signals someone’s arrival, nor does she really catch the order that follows directly after.
When her slow, sleep addled brain finally catches up with everything, she’s staring at a stunning redhead, who is staring straight back at her with a look of impatience clear in her piercing brown eyes.
“Sorry,” Toni shakes her head, attempting to get rid of the haze this very, very pretty girl has somehow managed to put her in. “Can you repeat that?”
Her customer raises a dubious eyebrow, and Toni has to close her mouth to stop herself from drooling. “I said, can I get two Pumpkin Spice Lattes?”
Toni shuffles her feet on the floor. “We don’t.. we don’t serve that.”
“You don’t?” the redhead asks, suddenly looking dejected, and Toni’s on the verge of reminding her that it’s not her who doesn’t serve it, it’s whoever made the menu, but the redhead continues before she can. “What kind of café is this?”
Toni, luckily, is smart enough to keep her mouth shut, having worked here long enough to know not to piss off customers in need of caffeine. The redhead’s dark eyes linger on her for a few more moments, before they flash to the chalkboard menu behind her.
“I’ll take an Iced Caramel Frappuccino, then,” she mutters after searching, before adding: “Or do you not serve that, either?”
Toni fights the urge to roll her eyes at the audacity of this customer. “We do,” she confirms, tapping a couple of buttons into the touch screen above the register. “That’ll be three sixty, please.”
The girl hands Toni her card for her to swipe, the only other sound being her foot tapping impatiently on the ground.
“Name?” Toni asks just as she hands the card back, before pulling out the receipt and handing that over too.
There’s a quiet mumble, and all Toni really hears is something that sounds similar to ‘barrel’. She opens her mouth to ask the girl to maybe repeat what she said, because she’s sure that her name isn’t barrel, but the girl’s foot is still tapping impatiently on the ground, and she decides not to bother.
Toni flounces off a couple moments later to make the beverage with her back toward the girl, and she can practically feel herself being watched as she mixes in the sugar. She peers over her shoulder just as she pours in the creamer, only to catch the girl’s eyes — they’re dark and earnest, and when she raises a brow yet again, the word ‘What?’ escaping her mouth, Toni simply shrugs.
“Nothing.” I just think you’re kind of rude, and kind of— well, really beautiful.
When Toni’s done making the Frappuccino, she pauses, marker hovering above the plastic cup. Is she really about to write down something flirty on the coffee cup of the gorgeous redhead who’s honestly done nothing but annoy her? Isn’t that a little too cliche?
A few beats pass, and Toni eventually decides, fuck it, what do I have to lose?, and scribbles down the words on the plastic before handing it back to her.
“Have a nice day,” she smiles, only for the redhead to practically snatch the drink out of her hand and head for the door without so much as a word, the lingering aroma of her perfume being the only proof that she was ever even there in the first place.
Cherry blossoms, Toni thinks as she watches her go. Interesting.
(The girl most likely won’t even read what she wrote, Toni concludes later.)
Cheryl’s fingers are typing away at her laptop, making a couple of adjustments to the slideshow she’ll have to present in a half hour, when Josie sitting down next to her catches her attention.
“I see how it is,” the curly haired girl remarks, and Cheryl furrows her brows, but refuses to take her eyes off of the screen. “You just decided to stop and get yourself a drink without bringing me one?”
“They didn’t have Pumpkin Spice,” Cheryl informs her, matter-of-factly. “I was actually being a good friend, unlike some people,” she says pointedly, prompting Josie to chuckle, “and I was going to get you something, but the place I stopped at wasn’t serving Pumpkin Spice, despite it being just the season for it. So, I’ll probably have to try somewhere else next time.”
Josie opens her laptop, an amused smile on her lips. “What kind of café doesn’t serve Pumpkin Spice during the fall? Halloween is tomorrow.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Cheryl mutters. “I did get a different one, though, if you’d like to try some of mine.”
Josie grins. “I knew you were my favorite for a reason,” she teases as she takes a sip of the beverage. “What kind is it?”
“Caramel,” Cheryl answers, finally lifting her gaze from the screen — her presentation will probably be the best one here, anyway — and turns to look back over at her best friend. “How is it?”
Josie’s quiet, staring at something on the side of the cup. Cheryl furrows her brows, taking the cup into her own hands in an attempt to see what Josie’s staring at, only to be greeted with the words hot stuff ;) written in place of where the name Cheryl should have been written.
“Wow,” Josie laughs, and Cheryl’s mind immediately flashes to the pink haired barista who had served her the coffee. She was cute, Cheryl had to admit, and her type too, but Cheryl had been unnecessarily rude in greeting, and had figured the girl wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with her. “Your chauffeur seems to have a crush on you.”
“A chauffeur is someone who drives people places, Josie,” she sighs, but it’s more of an attempt to change the subject, because Cheryl isn’t really a fan of discussing her love life with any of her friends. “A barista is someone who serves espresso beverages.”
“You know what I mean,” Josie bites back. “So, was it a girl? Or a guy?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Cheryl grumbles, looking pointedly back at her laptop in hopes that Josie will move on—
“Then it was definitely a girl,” she states instead.
“What makes you say that?” Cheryl asks in a tired demeanor, but Josie doesn’t seem to notice.
“If it were a guy, you’d most definitely have let me know, and — let’s face it — probably would have been disgusted by the mere idea of him calling you ‘hot stuff’.” Sometimes, Cheryl forgets that Josie can pretty much read her like a book. “So, was she cute?”
“Extremely,” Cheryl sighs, finally giving into the fact that Josie isn’t going to let this go. “But, I was fairly irritated with their limited selection of beverages, and she seemed pretty vexed with my irritation, so I hadn’t thought much of it.”
Josie tilts her head. “Well, she obviously thought you were hot,” she states, and Cheryl purses her lips. “And, bonus, it actually tastes really good, unlike some of the other ones in this area. I think you should go back.”
Cheryl holds her tongue, stopping herself from blurting out the words why on earth would I return to a café that doesn’t serve Pumpkin Spice, Josie? only because she’s already aware she’s lost this battle, and definitely not at all because a part of her sort of wants to go back.
“Come on, Tiny,” Sweet Pea whines a few days later, just as Toni’s finished taking down their Halloween decorations and setting up their fall ones. It’s later in the day this time; luckily, her only early shift is on Tuesdays, and all of her other shifts are either early afternoon or late evening. She has Jughead to work with during her afternoon shifts, and occasionally Sweet Pea comes to bother her after his classes during her evening shifts if he’s bored enough. “Why not?”
“Why would I let you borrow my motorcycle when you just broke your own?” Toni asks, heading back around the side of the counter.
“I didn’t break it,” Sweet Pea argues. “It.. malfunctioned, and now it’s unrideable for a couple of days.”
“Big word,” Toni snorts. Sweet Pea pouts at that, and Toni rolls her eyes. “Why do you even need it?”
“This girl I met yesterday is expecting me to pick her up in a couple of hours—“
“That sounds like a personal problem, Pea.”
“—and I can’t just tell her that I don’t have anything to pick her up in!”
Toni refuses to budge. “You’re going to have to ask Fangs or someone else, then, because I don’t want my motorcycle to, quote unquote, malfunction, the next time I have to ride it.”
“Come on, T! I’m your best friend!”
“You’re a pain in my ass.”
“Please?”
Toni narrows her eyes, and is about to respond with a snarky remark, when a familiar voice speaks before she can.
“Hey, faux pink lady,” the voice lazily calls, and Toni finds herself spinning around with a look of surprise.
She’s met with the familiar sight of her — the redhead, who Toni distinctively remembers writing the words hot stuff in place of her name, and well, she isn’t quite sure how to react.
“Uh..”
“What? You don’t remember me?” the girl asks, looking genuinely surprised. Toni briefly wonders if she’s always used to having everyone remember her.
“Of course I do,” Toni eventually says, straightening up a little and not missing the way the other girl’s face seems to light up. “You were the rude redhead who insisted on having Pumpkin Spice, right?”
Hot Stuff looks purely gleeful at her words.
“Sure — and you were the one who wrote hot stuff on my cup, followed by a wink.” She looks sort of smug now, a contrast to how impatient and irritated she had appeared to be a few days ago.
“Sounds familiar,” Toni murmurs, leading her over to one of the other registers that’s not currently being occupied. “I was convinced you wouldn’t be coming back here, considering we don’t serve festive drinks and all.”
Hot Stuff’s long, red nails clink against the counter. “I wasn’t going to, but this café happens to lie directly between my apartment and the university, which is extremely convenient for moi.”
Toni narrows her eyes. “So you don’t want Pumpkin Spice anymore?”
Hot Stuff shrugs. “I do, but I suppose I can settle for Caramel, especially if it’s being served by such a pretty face,” she flirts, simple and breezily, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Toni’s just thankful that the heat that rushes to her face isn’t at all obvious with her dark complexion. “Now, faux pink lady, am I going to have to wait all day for you to make me a drink?”
Toni shakes her head with an amused chuckle; now there’s the girl she met on Tuesday. “Iced Caramel Frappuccino, coming right up.”
She quickly puts the drink together — she’s been working as a barista for over four years, and sure, half of it was working at a sordid bar, but she still counts it — and when she’s done and turning back around to face the waiting girl, marker held in one hand and a cup held in the other, she eyes the ginger locks that she totally doesn’t want to run her fingers through, before scribbling down the new nickname.
“Enjoy your not Pumpkin Spice,” Toni smiles, and when the redhead looks up from previously inspecting her nails, Toni winks because two can play at that game, and relishes in the way a bit of pink fills the pale cheeks of the gorgeous customer, effectively replacing her previously smug attitude with a more flustered one.
“Thanks,” she mutters in response, and Toni watches her walk away, heels clacking in loud, repetitive taps against the tile.
(It’s more than nothing.)
Gingersnap, Cheryl reads, a smile lighting up her face as her eyes scan the stocky handwriting from her place in the car, waiting for it to warm up. Autumn may be her favorite season because of the nostalgia and wistfulness it brings along with it, but she isn’t much of a fan of the cold weather. I can work with that.
ii.
The following Sunday greets Cheryl with rain that’s harsh and unforgiving, droplets slowly rolling down their windows in a race to reach the bottom. She delights in the sound of it drumming against the walls and windows, and settles on the couch in a mound of blankets in an attempt to get some sketching done while everything’s still quiet.
That is, until she hears the sound of Kevin’s voice, as well as an unfamiliar one — he must’ve brought someone back with him when he arrived back at their shared apartment last night — followed by the sound of the headboard hitting the wall.
Well.
Cheryl sticks her earbuds in in an attempt to rid of the noise, but when it doesn’t prove to be any help, she sighs, shutting her sketchbook morosely and packing it into her bag, before grabbing one of the oversized hoodie’s laying across the chair and pulling it over her head.
Kevin has been one of her best friends since freshman year of college — he helped her come to terms with her sexuality, guided her through a large period of uncertainty, and truthfully, she’s incredibly thankful for him. He’s a really, really good friend, probably only second to Josie, but he also has an incredibly active sex life, and Cheryl doesn’t have a wish to hear about it literally every single weekend.
She grabs her phone and scrolls through her contacts in an attempt to figure out where to go for a more quiet environment, but then eventually rules out practically all of her friend’s places. It had been Veronica’s birthday last night, and while Cheryl had chosen not to drink too much, she can’t say the same for her peers, which means that everyone probably has killer hangovers right now.
She’s considering going to the school library, but then rules that out because of how busy it typically is, when the coffee pot Kevin insists on keeping because it was my grandmothers, and she’d kill me if she found out I got rid of it! makes a random beeping noise. Cheryl’s eyes settle on the ancient thing for a few moments, before a smile forms on her lips. She knows exactly where to go.
Outside of the café, rain pounds against the pavement, gathering in angry droplets on the large windows. Thunder rattles the small building every few moments, the sky a large slate of grey.
“Slow day,” Toni sighs, sitting up on the counter top. They’re not allowed to, technically — something about it being unsanitary, but the only other customers that are here are sitting far away enough that they can’t see her, and rules have never been a primary concern of hers, so.
“Mhm,” Jughead hums, eyes focused on his phone, undoubtedly texting his new girlfriend.
They had met in this café, actually, and Jughead had jokingly told her that it was fate. Toni doesn’t exactly believe in the idea of fate, everything being meant to be. If things were meant to be, then what was the point of trying? The whole thing seems kind of lazy if she’s being honest.
She’s in the middle of debating with herself over whether or not love at first sight is true — the part of her believing it’s not true in the lead — when the jingle of the bells echoes throughout the café, the rain outside getting louder for a split second, before quieting once again.
Toni pushes herself off the counter, glancing up toward the door, only to be greeted by a familiar face once again.
“Hey, Sunshine,” Gingersnap greets, and Toni smiles, ignoring the look of surprise Jughead gives her as she steps in front of the register.
“Gingersnap,” she grins. “Iced Caramel?”
The redhead nods, leaning against the bar with a slight pout. Toni thinks it’s illegal for one to look that adorable, wearing an oversized white sweatshirt with a single red cherry in the top left corner, hair sort of damp from the rain. “Gingersnap is a horrific nickname.”
Toni giggles — actually giggles, and wow, she must be losing her damn mind — handing the card back to Gingersnap, before spinning around to make the beverage.
“I’ll try harder this time,” she promises after she’s done, eyeing the girl up and down. She takes in the way the edges of her lips are curled into a slight smile, how her mocha colored eyes are watching her with something akin to curiosity, and decides to write the name Angel Eyes. She hands the drink over as always, but this time, their fingers brush against each other, and Toni swallows heavily at the contact.
“Thanks,” Angel Eyes actually seems genuine this time, and Toni smiles, giving a nerdy little two fingered salute. Angel Eyes’ dark gaze lingers on her for a few more moments, before she finally turns around. Toni expects her to head for the door and leave, similar to what she’s done the past two times, but surprisingly, the girl ends up settling down at a small table tucked in the back near one of the windows.
She pulls a couple of things out of her bag, opening some sort of notebook and hunching herself over it. When her eyes eventually settle upon the nickname Toni’s written for her today, a smile lights up her face.
(Toni can’t help but smile herself at the sight.)
“Um?” Jughead starts in a sort of hushed whisper, sliding closer to Toni from his spot of leaning on the counter. Toni regretfully tears her gaze away from the beautiful girl by the window, only to meet Jughead’s amused face. “You mind telling me what that was all about?”
Toni shrugs. “Just being nice.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jughead snorts, like he doesn’t believe a single word Toni’s saying, and when she narrows her eyes, he continues. “You were definitely flirting with her, and that’s not even up for debate.”
“I wasn’t flirting with her. I was just.. being a good employee.”
Jughead raises a skeptical brow. “Since when does being a good employee include volleying cheesy nicknames back and forth with the customers? I mean, come on, you actually giggled.”
Toni raises a brow. “And?”
“I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve heard you giggle.”
“Just because you’re majoring in Journalism doesn’t mean you have to investigate everyone’s lives, Jug,” Toni says, only a bit playful, and then turns her attention to a couple of new customers who walk in, pointedly looking at Jughead as if to dare him to continue.
Jughead shakes his head with an amused chuckle, but thankfully, heads to the back to retrieve a new batch of scones when the customers put in their order.
The continual thunderstorm lets up after a couple of hours, turning into quiet, gentle rain. The café has a fair amount of customers; more than there were before Cheryl had shown up, but still less than what she figures is usual.
It’s nice: calm and picturesque — exactly the type of place that Cheryl would enjoy spending her time at every once in a while, not that she’d ever admit it to anyone. She’s always enjoyed diving into a good book in silence, or sitting down and sketching whatever comes to mind just to let herself relieve some steam, and here, tucked into a table in the corner near the fireplace the café offers, she couldn’t be anymore at peace.
Not to mention the pretty barista who keeps inconspicuously glancing in her direction every once in a while. Cheryl basks in attention, and she’s probably enjoying this little nickname war they have going on a little too much.
Her pencil moves easily across the paper, easier than it has in a while. She’s spent the past couple of hours letting herself draw whatever comes to mind — the page she’s currently working on being the view she has of the café, the one before that being a field of flowers.
She’s in the process of outlining the windows, brows furrowed in concentration, when a muffin suddenly makes its way into her vision. Cheryl gasps, nearly jumping out of her chair, only for her eyes to fall upon Sunshine.
“Sorry,” she chuckles, and Cheryl clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you, nor did I mean to interrupt whatever you have going on here, so just tell me to fuck off and I will.”
Cheryl shakes her head. Had it been anyone else who dared disrupt her, she would’ve had a rampage of insults pouring from her lips by now, but even if she’s not quite sure how yet, she can tell that this girl is just.. different. “No, it’s alright.”
Sunshine watches her for a few moments, before her eyes fall back to the muffin she’s holding out in front of Cheryl. “Thought you might want to try this. It’s new, and we haven’t started selling it just yet, but they’re pumpkin flavored, and I know you like things that taste like pumpkin, so.”
Cheryl can’t help the smile that forms on her lips at this woman’s thoughtfulness. She takes a bite, and when the flavor hits her tongue, she nearly moans. Given that it’s the beginning of November, she hasn’t had anything pumpkin flavored in over a year. It’s one of the reasons she looks forward to autumn so much.
“Wow,” Cheryl says once she’s done chewing, and Sunshine’s face lights up. “I'll admit, I assumed I would have to pretend to enjoy it, but it’s actually immensely savory,” she admits, taking another bite.
Sunshine’s smile widens. “So it’s good?”
“It’s amazing, truly,” Cheryl nods, eyes sincere.
A beat passes, and Sunshine’s gaze flickers down to the sketchbook lying in front of Cheryl. “Well, speaking of amazing things,” she murmurs, gesturing to the drawing, “that’s pretty fucking amazing.”
Cheryl feels herself go pink. “It’s.. it’s nothing too significant. They’re just sketches.”
Sunshine’s eyes widen, and Cheryl can’t help but want to get lost in them. “Just sketches?” she echoes, glancing back down at the paper. Cheryl hasn’t ever been one to be open about her artistic abilities, not even to Jason when he was still alive, but sitting here with what’s practically a stranger, she can’t help but feel less nervous, like there’s no real expectations. “It almost looks like a black and white photo of the café. Like.. that’s really good.”
Cheryl blushes even harder if it’s even possible, and has no doubt that her aflame cheeks are quite visible. “Thank you.”
Sunshine chuckles. She opens her mouth to say something else, only for the sound of the bells on the door to catch their attention as a pair of customers stroll in.
“Well, I have to get back to work,” she states after a few moments, and Cheryl almost wants to ask her to stay. She’s incredibly intrigued by this girl, wants to sit down and just talk to her, but she knows that she can’t just ask her to just stop working in the middle of her shift.
“Okay,” Cheryl regretfully says. “Uh, this muffin, how much is it?”
Sunshine shakes her head and begins to back toward the counter. “Don’t worry about it, Angel Eyes. It’s on the house.”
Cheryl laughs, before nodding her head. “Okay. Well, thank you, truly.”
Sunshine simply flashes her another smile. “I’ll… I’ll talk to you later?”
Cheryl nods, a giddy feeling exploding in her chest as Sunshine turns to begin walking back to the counter, where a few other people have begun to wait in line. She tries not to stare at the curvature of her ass, instead bringing her gaze back to her sketchbook. A few moments pass as she stares at the page, before flipping it over, and starting something new: a replica of the pink haired woman standing at the counter, a smile on her face.
(When she leaves an hour and a half later, she tells herself it’s only because she’s an artist who likes challenges, and not for any other reason at all.)
iii.
They settle into some sort of routine after that. The redhead quickly becomes a regular, showing up to get her usual on Tuesday mornings before her classes, as well as Thursday or Friday afternoons, and typically she’ll stay and read or draw on Sundays. Toni enjoys talking with her every time she comes, no matter how brief or long it may be, and soon, a relationship consisting of coffee, flirty nicknames, muffins, and mindless conversations is born.
(Toni shows her some of her own photographs one Sunday morning, after the redhead shows Toni a sketch of an overlook from her hometown. She describes the pictures as “astonishing” and “insanely magnificent”, and Toni has never felt so proud of her own work.)
Weeks pass, and this beautiful woman quickly becomes a permanent fixture in Toni’s life, fitting in as easily as her homework or making coffee does. When she smiles, Toni’s chest flutters and warms, and it’s so simple to get caught up in this — whatever it is that they have — that Toni finds herself falling with no real way to stop.
(It’s a wonderful feeling.)
She’s mindlessly musing about it to Fangs and Sweet Pea during movie night, when Fangs says: “So, you definitely have a crush on her.”
Toni furrows her brows together at the words.
“She’s— she’s just a customer,” she argues, looking in Sweet Pea’s direction for backup. “We don’t even know each other that well. Like, I know about her interests and some stuff in relation and how she’s a lot more beautiful when she’s smiling than when she’s not — I’m not blind — but I don’t know who she is. It’s almost like—“
“Yeah,” Sweet Pea cuts off her rambling, stealing a couple of pieces of popcorn from her bowl and shoving them into his mouth. “You’re definitely crushing on her. One could even say you’re in love.”
Toni narrows her eyes. “I’m definitely not in love with her, Sweet Pea,” she sighs, suddenly regretting her choice in confiding to them instead of Jughead.
“Okay, fine, you’re not in love,” Fangs says, sounding totally unconvinced, “but you are definitely crushing on her.”
Sweet Pea nods his head in agreement, and Toni considers the idea, when the massive boy continues.
“Or, you’re just trying to get into her pants,” he adds. Fangs nods his head like it’s even a remote possibility, and Toni launches a couple of pieces of popcorn at them both.
“You two disgust me,” she rolls her eyes. “Not everything is about sex.”
Sweet Pea holds his hands up in surrender, a teasing smile on his face. “Hey, you can’t blame me for thinking that. I’ve seen her a couple of times before. She’s hot.”
Toni ends up dumping the bowl over his head.
iv.
The beginning of the end (or, the end of the beginning) sort of comes all too sudden, and yet, not sudden enough at all.
It starts on a Thursday afternoon. The café is bustling with life, the usual for weekday afternoons, and when Toni catches sight of familiar red hair, a smile immediately lights up her face.
“Good afternoon, Princess Charming,” she says rather cheerfully, immediately ringing the girl up for her usual, which now includes one of the pumpkin muffins that they will, unfortunately, stop selling in a few days after Thanksgiving has passed. “Did everything go smoothly with your professor?”
There’s no response. Toni glances up at the girl with furrowed brows, only to frown at the sight of flushed cheeks. She’s averting her watery gaze, doesn’t have any makeup on, either, and Toni’s frown only deepens.
“Hey,” the pink haired girl murmurs, suddenly glad there’s two different registers open right now, so she doesn’t feel as bad about holding up the line. “Are you okay?”
Princess Charming uses her thumbs to wipe at her eyes. “Yeah,” she breathes after clearing her throat, forcing a watery smile. “Don’t worry yourself, Short Stuff.”
Toni, not convinced, doesn’t even register the reference to her height. “Are you sure?” she asks, because the girl clearly isn’t alright, but Toni knows it’s not her place to pry.
“It’s fine.” When Toni’s worried expression doesn’t change, the other girl rolls her eyes. “I’m kind of in a hurry today,” she says, sounding a bit impatient.
“Okay,” Toni sighs, ringing the woman’s card up. She makes her drink, scrawling the words I hope everything’s okay, Sweetheart on the side, and then puts two muffins inside of the bag instead of one, because really, what more can she do?
The girl takes the bag with a mumbled thanks, and against the sinking feeling in her chest, Toni watches her leave.
The following Sunday, it’s quiet in the early hours, the time of day at which Toni’s favorite customer (yes, she labeled the redhead as her favorite customer) typically shows up, and yet, today she never does.
It’s the first time she hasn’t. Toni knows it hasn’t even been two months, but she can’t help but get the feeling that it has something to do with Thursday. It’s disheartening, and for the first time since she’s met the girl, she wishes she had a way to contact her, or even just knew her real name.
The rush hour at the coffee shop comes and goes, her favorite customer never shows, and by the time they’re ready to close, Toni feels a different kind of sadness building up in her chest.
“What’s up with you today, Toni?” Jughead asks as they’re locking and cleaning the place up, the sun setting outside. It’s completely empty now that the other two employees have left, so Toni’s not surprised when Jughead raises his voice louder than usual to make sure he’s being heard.
“What do you mean?” she asks, deciding to play oblivious as she dumps the few pieces of trash on the dustpan into the trash bag, before heading behind the counter to hang up her apron. Jughead eyes her skeptically from his place of wiping the counters.
“I don’t know. You’ve seemed a little.. off, ever since this morning.”
Toni bites her lip, before turning around, crossing her arms over her chest. He’s Jughead, it couldn’t hurt to confide in him, right?
“You know the girl I’ve been talking to recently?” Toni hesitantly starts, and Jughead furrows his brows. “The redhead. She usually comes in here every Sunday morning,” she attempts to clarify.
Jughead averts his eyes with a look of concentration, before he tilts his head in question. “Are you talking about Cheryl?”
Toni falters at this.
“I— Cheryl?” she asks. “I don’t..” a beat passes. “Who?”
Jughead looks exceptionally confused, and Toni’s sure her face matches his own. “Um, the redhead you’re always talking to..? The one we’re all waiting for you to just ask out already?”
Toni narrows her eyes. “Who’s we? I— you know what, nevermind,” she sighs. “I don’t.. I don’t know if her name is Cheryl or not.”
Jughead’s looks even more puzzled. “You’ve been talking to her for nearly a month, and you don’t know her name?”
“Look,” Toni starts. “It’s— she doesn’t know mine either, okay? It’s this thing I accidentally started when I first met her. I wrote hot stuff on her cup, and we’ve just been giving each other cheesy nicknames ever since then.”
Jughead’s lips go into a flat line in order to stop himself from laughing. “Alright then,” he chuckles. “That’s.. that’s uh, nice and all, but yeah, her name is Cheryl. Cheryl Blossom, if I recall correctly.”
Toni blinks. “Wait, how do you know her name?”
“She’s Betty’s cousin,” Jughead deadpans, and Toni’s jaw drops.
“Wow,” she laughs in disbelief. “What a small world, huh?”
Jughead smiles, nodding his head in agreement. There’s a pregnant pause, and then Toni furrows her brows together, mouthing the name Cheryl Blossom to herself. It’s a fitting name, she thinks — a lot better than Hot Stuff, Gingersnap, Angel Eyes, Princess Charming, Sweetheart, and all of the other ridiculous names Toni’s managed to come up with over the course of the month.
Jughead raises a brow. “So? What does she have to do with your depressing mood?”
Toni rubs her eyes. “I’m probably just overreacting,” she sighs. “But on Thursday, Cheryl—“ it feels weird to actually say her name after not knowing it for so long— “came in as usual, but she just seemed really upset. We barely spoke at all, which is.. unusual.” Toni watches as Jughead frowns. “She usually shows up today too, as I’m sure you’ve seen, and well, today she didn’t.” Toni runs a hand through her hair. “I’m just.. kind of worried, I guess.”
Jughead’s rinses out the towel he used to clean the counters, before wringing it out. “You’re smitten, huh?”
Toni swallows. “It’s not like that,” she argues, despite it really being a straight up lie at this point.
“Sure,” Jughead says, before drying off his hands and going to hang up his apron, changing from a lighthearted to a more serious expression. “But if you’re really worried about her T, I can ask Betty for you. They’re not extremely close or anything, but I know they talk fairly often.”
Toni shakes her head. “I don’t want to pry or anything like that. I mean, we’re— I don’t even know if she thinks we’re friends.”
Jughead rolls his eyes. “Well, from the interactions I’ve seen, it seems like she definitely thinks you two are friends at the very least,” he says, and Toni follows him outside as they lock up for the evening. “It’s obvious that you like her, and I don’t know her well, but if my basic knowledge on women serves me right, I’d say she definitely reciprocates those feelings. I mean, come on, you said you two have been exchanging cheesy nicknames for the past month.”
Toni nods, tightening the leather jacket wrapped around her shoulders as protection from the harsh winds outside of the café. She can’t quite bring herself to feel hope for the possibility, not when she’s so worried about Cheryl in the first place. “That’s what Sweet Pea and Fangs said, too.”
Jughead smiles. “See, we aren’t completely useless.”
Toni rolls her eyes. “Sure, Jug,” she chuckles as she starts walking over to her respective vehicle. “I’ll see you later.”
(She can’t help but analyze his words for the rest of the night.)
v.
The morning of Thanksgiving is, predictably, quiet.
Being that there won’t be any classes until next week and most of their customers are college students, it’s not unusual for their sales to decline during holidays, the café typically hushed and still.
But — being that it is also Tuesday, Toni can’t help but hope for a particular redhead to walk through that door like she has been doing every Tuesday for over a month. She knows the chances are slim, considering that Cheryl — it’s still weird to Toni to actually reference her using her real name — only gets a coffee this early in the morning to keep herself awake for her early classes, and she didn’t show up on Sunday either, for whatever reason.
(Not that Toni has spent the past few days wondering or anything.)
A few people show up, all ordering basic cups of coffee to go, but no one stays. The time that Cheryl usually steps in comes and goes. Amber, the only other employee who had signed up to work on Thanksgiving morning for the holiday pay, clocks out about fifteen minutes before Toni’s supposed to close shop, leaving with a cheerful “Happy Thanksgiving!”
With a quarter of an hour before she’s off, the pink haired barista finds herself pulling her phone out of her back pocket, only to see a text waiting from her mother. She smiles, leaning against the counter and opening up her messages.
When are you coming to see me?, the message from about ten minutes ago reads.
Thanksgiving, Christmas and their birthdays are really the only times Toni ever gets to see her mother, being that she lives a couple of hours away from Manhattan, so she usually makes sure not to make plans with her friends for those specific holidays. It’s not exactly ideal, but they make it work.
I’ll be on my way as soon as I close up, Toni responds.
Her mother’s reply comes a couple of minutes later. You’re working on Thanksgiving?
Toni rolls her eyes at the question that she’s gotten from practically everyone, but it’s laced with no real malice. I’m getting holiday pay, she texts. Don’t worry.
Well, her mother texts back, as long as you’re here before dinner. It’s been far too long since I last saw my daughter.
At this, Toni smiles, because it has been too long. I’ll be there before the evening, she promises, and her mother responds with a couple of kissy face emojis.
Toni stares at her phone screen for a few more moments, about to send a heart emoji in response, when the door of the café swings open, jingling the bells as always, and in walks a familiar figure: thick white coat serving as protection from the weather, vivid red locks that lay flat over her shoulders, and lips that are, of course, cherry red.
Something that feels like relief swells in Toni’s chest, and she finds herself moving toward the front of the bar area, where Cheryl is approaching.
“Hey,” she greets carefully, already pulling out a plastic cup and setting it underneath the coffee brewer, because Cheryl looks like she has a higher need of caffeine than usual. Toni refrains from asking her if she’s okay, because she doesn’t want to risk annoying her like she had seemingly done the last time.
“Hi,” Cheryl returns, resting her arms on the tall counter. She watches Toni work for a few moments, before continuing. “I didn’t think you’d be working today.”
Toni shrugs, a small smile forming on her lips. “If it weren’t for the holiday pay, I wouldn’t be here,” she attempts to joke.
Cheryl nods, choosing not to verbally respond. Toni mixes the sugar and the creamer into the drink, trying not to stare at her face, but there’s something about the downward pull of her lips and the droop of her shoulders that doesn’t really sit well with Toni. She finishes the drink, writes Honey on the name place, and although it hadn’t really gotten them anywhere last time, Toni finds herself asking her if everything is okay once again.
Cheryl doesn’t respond, not at first, and Toni’s frown only deepens. However, she eventually shakes her head, posture crumbling as if she just wants to curl in on herself.
“Cheryl,” Toni whispers, but when she’s not quite sure she’s even heard, Toni takes a step closer. She hesitantly lays a hand on Cheryl’s clothed bicep, attempting to get her to look up, and when she does, there are tears swimming in her eyes, threatening to overflow.
Toni bites her lip, about to ask Cheryl if she can hug her, when Cheryl suddenly launches herself forward, wrapping her arms around the shorter girl and nearly knocking her back with the impact. Although initially caught off guard, Toni easily wraps her own arms around the redhead in what she hopes is a comforting embrace.
It’s the first time they’ve touched too, aside from the brushing of their fingers whenever Toni hands Cheryl her drink, and it’s in that moment that Toni decides one thing: that she’ll stay standing here forever if that’s what it takes for Cheryl to be okay again.
And it’s exactly where they stay for a long while, Toni’s eyes eventually fluttering closed as she rubs Cheryl’s back, before—
“My coffee is probably melting,” Cheryl suddenly murmurs. Toni lets out a quiet laugh, pulling back from the hug to look up at the other girl.
“I could make you a new one,” she suggests, but Cheryl shakes her head with a small smile, simply staring down at Toni with a look of gratitude shining in her still glassy brown eyes. She can’t help but focus on the way they’re still sort of holding each other, Cheryl’s arms loosely wrapped around Toni’s shoulders and Toni’s own arms wrapped around Cheryl’s waist.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?” Toni quietly asks. Cheryl smile fades, and Toni feels herself moving her hand up to her face, boldly tucking a strand of red behind her ear.
Uncertainly, Cheryl's eyes flash from the ground and back up to Toni’s. “I think so.”
Toni nods, unwinding her arms from around Cheryl’s waist and propping herself up on the counter (even though she’s still not allowed to do it). Cheryl watches her actions with furrowed brows, but seems to catch on, sitting up on the counter and taking a sip of her drink.
It’s quiet for a couple of minutes. Toni playfully nudges Cheryl’s shoulder as the girl simply stares at her coffee to get her to look up, smiling encouragingly when she does.
Cheryl shakily smiles back.
“I usually drive back down to my parents home for Thanksgiving,” she starts, voice barely a whisper. “I was going to go today, of course, but where I’m from, word spreads fast.” A small sigh escapes her, and Toni watches with furrowed brows. “A few days ago, I let it slip to someone that I’m attracted to girls, and to put it short, my parents sort of said they didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”
Toni’s eyes widen. She isn’t quite sure what she expected, but it surely wasn’t that.
“I just—“ she suddenly looks up at the ceiling, the tears brimming in her eyes on the verge of spilling out. “They’re not even good parents, never were, but it just made me realize that I’m alone,” she admits, and Toni watches her with sympathetic eyes. “I would prefer not to intrude on my friends this last minute, and I don’t have any other close family, so..” she trails off, another shaky sigh escaping her shoulders.
Tears form in Toni’s own eyes. She doesn’t know too much about Cheryl, but she does know that, even if the girl can be a little too bold sometimes, she’s incredibly kind, thoughtful, and has a heart of gold. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
“God, Cheryl.. you’re—“
She cut herself off when Cheryl’s head snaps up, the girl staring at her with a look of surprise, the tears in her eyes looking even more out of place. “You know my name?” she asks in bewilderment, and Toni thinks, well, shit.
“I.. well, uh,” Toni starts, awkwardly rubbing her neck with a slight chuckle. “Jughead told me.”
That gets Cheryl to smile at least, and Toni suddenly thinks the embarrassment is worth it. “Jughead? Betty’s boyfriend?” When Toni nods, she continues. “You were asking him about me?”
Toni clears her throat. “Uh, yeah,” she admits, a slight blush forming on her features. Cheryl’s smile widens. “I was— I was, well, worried, because you seemed upset on Thursday and didn’t come in on Sunday, so I just.. asked.”
Cheryl’s smile suddenly falters, and she sighs. “I’m sorry.”
Toni furrows her brows together in confusion. “For what?”
She shrugs, averting her eyes. “For worrying you. That wasn’t my intention, I swear.”
Toni shakes her head, scooting closer to the other girl. “Hey,” she begins firmly, gently placing her hand on Cheryl’s arm. “It’s not your fault. None of this — including your parents reaction — is your fault, Cheryl. You can’t help what others think, and if they don’t want to accept for who you are, then— then fuck them, because you’re amazing, and beautiful, and really fucking talented, and—“
Toni’s rambling is cut short by the feeling of soft, pillowy lips pressing against her own. Stars explode behind her eyes, and she feels herself sighing into the kiss, before Cheryl suddenly pulls away with a gasp.
“I— I’m sorry—“
“Don’t.” Toni shakes her head, before cupping the back of her neck and leaning back in.
Before Cheryl’s lips touched her own, Toni had sort of imagined they would taste like Pumpkin Spice. Instead, her lips taste like caramel coffee and cherry lipstick and a mix of something else that she can’t quite pinpoint — something that must just be Cheryl.
(It’s something wonderful.)
She has no idea how much time passes, because kissing Cheryl is as amazing and intoxicating as she had imagined it would be. Cheryl responds to it eagerly, her hands tugging at pink hair to pull Toni even closer. Toni moves her own hand so that she’s cupping Cheryl’s cheek, thumb brushing against her cheekbone, smiling when Cheryl shivers underneath her touch.
It’s softer and warmer and sweeter than any kiss should even be allowed to be.
Cheryl ends up pulling away first, chest heaving, breaths heavy. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” she admits, looking at Toni with something that looks a lot like happiness. Toni smiles, moving her hand from its place of cupping Cheryl’s cheek so that she can cradle her jaw, using her thumb to wipe off a bit of smeared lipstick.
“Me too,” she responds, finally tearing her gaze away from Cheryl’s deliciously plump lips and meeting her eyes. “Ever since you walked in through that door for the first time, pissed off and aggravated because we didn’t have Pumpkin Spice.. I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
Cheryl grins mischievously. “Why didn’t you?”
Toni playfully rolls her eyes. “I wanted to make sure you’d kiss me back, Cheryl,” she chuckles. “Besides, I like the way we ended up.”
Cheryl suddenly pinches her nose, and Toni raises a playful brow.
“You know my name,” she murmurs, breaths finally returning back to normal. “But I still don’t know yours. That’s weird, right?”
“Yeah, a little,” Toni chuckles, because out of context, that really is weird. “It’s Toni. Toni Topaz.”
Cheryl furrows her brows together, repeating the name for no real reason except to feel it on her tongue. “I like the alliteration. The two T’s.” Her eyes suddenly light up. “TT.”
A giggle bubbles in Toni’s throat. “Is that my new nickname, Cherry?”
Cheryl laughs, and it’s the most delightful sound in the world. “If that’s what you’d prefer, Love Muffin,” she teases.
Toni’s only response is another kiss.
Ten minutes later, they find themselves sweeping up the floor of the café, exchanging mindless conversation. Toni can’t quite believe that this is happening to her — that Cheryl actually kissed her, and now she’s helping her clean up the café before they leave. Everything just seems so domestic, and as Toni stops sweeping and just watches Cheryl sweep with her back facing her as she talks about her first experience trying coffee, she can’t help but hope it’s a sight she’ll get to see more of.
She suddenly finds herself thinking of Cheryl’s words earlier; how sad she had looked when she had talked about how she didn’t have any plans for today because of what had happened.
And well.
“Cheryl?” she asks, placing her broom back in it’s spot and slowly approaching the taller girl. Cheryl turns around, head tilted ever so slightly. Toni swallows, suddenly feeling kind of nervous, but continues before she can talk herself out of it. “About earlier,” she takes a deep breath, “would you maybe wanna come with me tonight? For Thanksgiving?”
Toni watches as Cheryl’s furrows her brows in surprise. “You don’t have any plans?”
Toni bites her lip. “Well, I’m going over to my mother’s,” she admits, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. “But it’s only gonna be us. We’re just gonna cook, and—“
“Toni,” Cheryl sighs, setting her broom down next to the other girl’s. Toni pauses, watching as Cheryl frowns. “I don’t— I couldn’t impose on you and your mother like that.”
“You wouldn’t be,” Toni quickly says with a shake of her head. “I’m sure she’d love to have you, and I think you would like her.” When Cheryl’s expression doesn’t change, Toni steps closer to her, taking both of her hands in her own. “Seriously, Cher. If she found out you were alone on Thanksgiving and I didn’t manage to convince you to accompany us, she’d probably kick my ass.”
Cheryl chuckles at that, and Toni breathily laughs as well. “Are you sure?”
Toni grins. “Well I asked, didn't I?”
A soft smile forms on Cheryl’s lips, and she uses her pointer finger to lift Toni’s chin, pressing her lips against Toni’s in the gentlest of kisses.
“You have the kindest and most thoughtful heart, Toni,” she whispers against her lips. “If I’m thankful for anything today, it’s you.”
Toni feels a wide smile forming on her face. “I’m thankful for you, too.”
Cheryl only kisses her again.
Would it be alright if I brought a friend with me? Toni asks a couple of minutes later. Cheryl’s in the bathroom, and although Toni’s sure her mother wouldn’t have an issue with Cheryl coming, she still wants to make sure. Her family is kind of shitty.
Sure, her mother replies. Shitty how?
I’m not quite sure, Toni responds. But they’re rich and traditional, and I think they have a problem with her sexuality.
Assholes, her mother’s response is much quicker than the others, followed by: Tell her she’s more than welcome!
Toni’s heart quickly swells for her mother. Laura Topaz is one of those women who firmly believe that parents should love their children unconditionally, and it’s one of the many reasons Toni truly loves her.
Thank you so much, Ma, Toni shoots back. I think you’ll like her.
Her mother quickly replies with, Is she just a friend? followed by a winking emoji. Toni grins, looking up at the bathroom door just as Cheryl steps out. She doesn’t quite know what they are yet, or what that kiss means, but Toni’s never been big on labels anyway. Besides, they have all the time in the world.
Cheryl approaches her with a raised brow at the sight of Toni staring at her with a grin. “What?”
Toni simply shrugs, sitting up and pocketing her phone. “You ready to go, Baby Doll?” she asks, just to be funny. A blush arises on Cheryl’s features, and Toni isn’t quite sure how, but somehow it’s even more adorable than all of the other times Cheryl’s blushed in front of her.
“Mhm,” she hums. “Let’s skedaddle, Ma Chérie.”
Toni beams, pushing up onto the tips of her toes and planting a light kiss to cherry red lips, because she doesn’t think she will ever get tired of kissing Cheryl Blossom.
vi.
The next year, as soon as they display the big orange sign encased in brown and red leaves that boasts Pumpkin Spice Latte, Toni’s heart does a little skip in her chest, and she makes sure to order the biggest size for her girlfriend.
(Cheryl tells her I love you for the first time later that night.)
*