Coffee, Love, and Other Stimulants

by Roselyn Jewell

  Coffee, Love and Other Stimulants

  Copyright 2014 © Roselyn Jewell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Beginning

  Chapter 2: The New Beginning

  Chapter 3: The New Career

  Chapter 4: The Reality

  Chapter 5: Kate's New Life

  Chapter 6: Sam's Wedding

  Chapter 7: Two Years Later

  Chapter 8: Happily Ever After?

  Chapter 1: The Beginning

  There is nothing better than the feeling of a hot ceramic mug against your palms and the robust scent of coffee that swirls around you like Van Gogh’s sky in “The Starry Night.” A small squirt of hazelnut syrup in my cup adds the touch of sweetness I need to get through the day.

  It’s only half-caffeinated because if I have too much caffeine I’ll end staying up all night, thinking about life and how much precooked Ramen I can eat before I become a bloated Michelin Man. Do you know how caffeine works? Human brains produce a chemical called adenosine. This passes through receptors and makes you tired. Caffeine looks similar to adenosine and clogs the receptors that adenosine usually goes through. This makes you feel more awake. Caffeine also causes dopamine—the happiness neurotransmitter—and adrenaline to kick in.

  Why on God’s Earth do I know this? Because I am a constantly exhausted pharmaceutical student. I’ve sucked down half of my life-saving coffee, but I’m still resting my head on my hand. I highlight a line from my textbook that I had to read six times before I understood it.

  In my periphery vision, a student catches my eye as he walks into Ambrosia Café with an air of unassuming confidence. He’s tall to the point of being lanky without being awkward and he has nutmeg-brown hair. A backpack hangs from one shoulder.

  “Hey,” he says to the barista as he reaches the counter. “Could I have…a large, half-caf coffee with just a little hazelnut syrup?”

  My heart skips a beat. I sit straight up, energy suddenly buzzing through my whole body. What is the likelihood of him ordering the exact same drink I am having?

  “Sure,” she says. He takes out a few dollars from his wallet and slides them over to her. “What name should I call out when I’m done with your order?”

  “Adam,” he says. He strides over to the plasticware and condiments bar and picks out a stir stick. He sticks it between his lips like he's a farmer with a piece of straw. The barista finishes his order and he takes it. “Thanks.”

  He turns around, looking for a table. His eyes are bright green—like emeralds. He doesn’t seem to see me as he walks past me to another table. He swings off his backpack, sits down and begins to take out textbooks. I try to casually lean back to see what he is studying, but I can’t look without being too obvious.

  My last relationship lasted less than two months and it could barely be considered a relationship. We had been more like friends who kissed each other. I have spent my life focusing on my future, which means I haven’t spent any time thinking about dating. Now that my future doesn’t seem so far away, finding someone to spend it with doesn’t seem a bad idea. And there is something about Adam that attracts my full attention.

  Another guy walks up to Adam and plops his backpack in the chair across from Adam. They exchange small talk. Their voices are too low for me to hear, but the friend walks over to the counter. “Could I get a large French roast with two creams and three sugars?” the man asks.

  “Absolutely.” Her voice is as perky as when I ordered. “What name should I call out?

  “Pete.” He taps the counter as the barista makes his order. Glancing over his shoulder, he seems to notice me. He nods. A small smile hovers on his lips. I turn my head to glimpse Adam again. He strokes his hair as he skims his textbook.

  “Thanks,” Pete says to the barista. Taking his drink, he navigates around the tables and back to Adam. He moves his backpack and sits down. Adam points to something in his textbook and Pete mutters something. Adam laughs. The sound seems to come from deep in his chest and it makes me smile. Pete peeks over at me and catches me staring. I look back down at my textbook. Pete isn’t the one I want paying attention to me. People tend to notice my Chardonnay-blonde hair that reaches the small of my back, but I don’t want the type of men who find me interesting because of my hair.

  I shake my head and shove my textbooks into my bag. Adam seems immune to the attraction of my hair. And I have an exam tomorrow, which is what I should be focusing on. Besides, I don’t want my inevitable rejection to be seen by Pete. I need to eliminate my distractions right now.

  As I walk by the two men on my way to the library, I can’t help but notice the book beside Adam says Economics, with a subheading that reads, The Social Science that Observes the Behavior of People and Their Use and Regulation of Resources.

  I wish I had resources to use, but I’m always the scientist observing from the outskirts. I am always on the outside looking in.

  ●

  I hand my test to Professor Chiarelli. He places it over the other two completed exams and asks, “How do you think you did?”

  “Too soon to say,” I tell him, but a smile is growing on my face. I have to use an extraordinary amount of self-control to not skip out of class. As soon as I close the door behind me, I sprint out of the academic building.

  The night breeze feels heavenly on my skin after being hunched over a test in a claustrophobic classroom for two hours. Drexton University has one of the most beautiful campuses I have ever seen with cherry blossom trees and art sculptures in the quad. Even in the dark, I can see their beauty and it makes me happy.

  I don’t have any plans until dinner, which is two and a half hours away. I want to celebrate and two congratulatory gifts to give myself jump into my mind: half-caffeinated coffee with a splash of hazelnut syrup and someone to enjoy it with. Someone like Adam.

  Adam. How can I even find him? How do I gather the courage to talk to him?

  My brain battles between fear of rejection and fear of growing into a woman who returns home to no one every night. I don’t think it's worth it to be successful in my profession if the rest of my life is empty.

  I walk to Ambrosia Café. Maybe Adam is there again tonight. When I enter, I scan the tables. He’s not there. I order my coffee and sit at the same table as last time. Pulling out my textbook for Clinical Pharmacology I open it, but I keep surveying the café.

  A couple walks into the café, nuzzling each other and trading kisses like secrets. They both order coffee with three creams, three sugars, and they share a chocolate chip muffin. The m
an accidentally kicks my backpack.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles, not even looking at me because he only has eyes for his girlfriend. They walk to a table in synchronized strides. I take a sip from my ceramic cup and try to ignore the feeling that I have never felt that in sync with anyone. I have never been able to read every fleeting emotion that crosses someone’s face and feel it inside my own heart. But I want that more than anything.

  I read through the chapters on absorption, metabolism, excretion, and adverse effects of drugs, but I barely take in any of the information because I keep seeing flickers of people walking by. I keep glancing up to see if any of them are Adam. None of them are.

  After a few hours pass, I pack my textbook back into my bag. All this studying and caffeine must be making me lose my mind. I should be focusing on graduating and continuing my career. I don’t even know Adam. He could be a jerk, gay, or dating someone. He could look at my constant studying and lack of partying and find me boring. I don’t want someone who thinks alcohol and irresponsibility are the peak of living, but something in his emerald eyes has told me he isn’t like that. If eyes are the windows to the soul his windows are wide open and full of ambition for greater things.

  Still, I know he is not a man who will be simply enamored by my hair. He seems the kind of guy who will fall in love with an exotic woman who’s trilingual with a genius IQ and an amazing fashion sense, or an economics major who spends her spare time winning dance competitions. Me? I’m considered intelligent, but I’m not amazing anyone with my intellect. I’m not amazing anyone with anything.

  As I leave the café, I glance back as if I think Adam will suddenly appear in one of the chairs. All the chairs are empty. The only thing that shows the café isn’t closed is my coffee cup sitting alone at my table. I leave before the idea of two coffee cups being left behind can cement itself into my mind.

  ●

  When I walk into my apartment, my roommate Sam—short for Samantha—is on the couch with her girlfriend, Ahanna. Their lips are locked, their hands clinging to each other’s arms as if they are about to fuse. Ahanna is a pharmaceutical student at a university from across the state. Sam and Ahanna met at a conference our freshman year. They are another couple who seem to be two halves of a whole. As soon as they hear me they pull away from each other, untangling their bodies.

  “Sorry,” Sam says. “We got lost in the moment.”

  “It’s no big deal.” I drop my bag on the counter and rub my eyes.

  “How was your test?” Sam asks. She has short, blonde hair that switches between being spiked or left in a bed-head style. She’s small, but she makes it up with an attitude that scares away the toughest alpha male.

  “Great. I’m pretty confident I at least got an A.”

  “Awesome!” Sam bounces onto her feet. “We should celebrate with alcohol!”

  I roll my eyes. “What would you have said if I told you I had failed my test miserably?”

  “I’d say, Bummer! We should grieve with alcohol!” I laugh and she grabs my hand. “Come on, Kate. Classes are done. It’s officially spring break. Ahanna and I are going to go to a bed and breakfast tomorrow, but we should all let loose tonight. If I know you, you’re going to be studying for the whole break—“

  “No, I’m not,” I grumble. “I’m…working.”

  Sam shakes her head. “We’re taking you drinking,” she says. Ahanna stands up and wraps her arm around Sam. Next to Sam, Ahanna’s willowy body makes her seem taller. Her dark hair has always made me envious with its silky texture.

  “You should come, Kate,” Ahanna says.

  I sigh and say, “Fine.”

  Sam grins and grabs my arm, dragging me to my room. “We need to find you a sexy dress.”

  I glance back at Ahanna, who shrugs with an amused smile. I’ve always been impressed with her indifference to me living with her girlfriend. I’ve never had any gay inclinations, but Ahanna doesn’t know that.

  Sam is going through my closet, grimacing at half of my clothes. “Don’t you have anything that wouldn’t be used for a job interview?” she asks. I sit down on my bed and watch her sift through my clothes. She pulls out a red dress with spaghetti straps that’s low-cut with a hemline that reaches right above my knees. “Wow. This is different.”

  “I went through a five-minute phase where I really wanted a red dress,” I say. “I immediately regretted it.”

  “You shouldn’t.” She holds up the dress as if picturing me inside it. She throws it into my arms and prances to my door, singing, “We’ll be waiting!”

  She closes the door behind her. I look at myself in the mirror with the dress pressed against my body. I suppose it’s time for me to shed my old skin. I pull off my khakis and blouse. I would be categorized under the label of “slim,” but I still wince at the slight roundness of my stomach. My thighs are a bit toned from running track in high school. I should start running again, but I can’t find the time. I pull the dress over my head and shimmy into it. I apply some peach lipstick and pull my hair out of its tie. The blonde strands flow down my shoulders.

  In the mirror, with the red dress and my blonde hair, I look like a flame. The only question is if I will burn out or set the world on fire.

  ●

  Sam and Ahanna are playing footsie at the table while I pretend to be enchanted by my vodka sour. I’ve noticed quite a few people gazing at us. The attention all seems to be focused on the fact that two women are making out. Ahanna jumps onto Sam’s lap and they kiss with unmatched intensity.

  A man walks up to us and I’m about to tell him, no, they don’t do threesomes. But I recognize who it is.

  “Hey, Taylor,” I say. He grins and gives me a big hug. Taylor is built like a football player. He has strawberry blonde hair and is always dressed like he’s going to a five-star restaurant. I've heard his father is some kind of tycoon.

  “Hey, Kate,” he says. “You look amazing. I’ve never seen you dressed up before.”

  Ahanna notices him and slides off Sam’s lap.

  “If it’s not our pharmaceutical nemesis Taylor,” Sam teases. He gives her a hug too.

  “Sam the felon,” he says. “It’s good to see both of you outside of school.”

  Ahanna sits down on her chair. Sam jumps up and makes a wide gesture toward her. “Taylor, this is my superwoman girlfriend, Ahanna. She destroys men like you with her super knowledge of pharmaceuticals and her amazing bedroom eyes.”

  Ahanna rolls her eyes. She and Taylor shake hands. “Just Ahanna,” she says. “No superpowers included.”

  “It’s great to meet you Ahanna,” he says. She smiles and gives Sam a quick kiss on the cheek. “You are crazy,” she tells Sam.

  “Crazy for you,” Sam says. They begin kissing again. I look at Taylor and shrug.

  “Do you want to get another…what is that? Vodka sour?” he asks. I glance at Sam and Ahanna. They look like they need some alone time anyway. I nod and we head to the bar. As we sit down on stools, Taylor orders us both vodka sours.

  We sip our drinks. He tells me about his study of benzodiazepines, and I tell him about nootropics, memory enhancing smart drugs. “Would you take a drug that improved your cognition or memory?” I ask, finishing the last of my drink. I can feel the slight fuzziness in my thoughts and movements that comes with being tipsy.

  “I think my cognition and memory are fine on their own, but I wouldn’t mind a boost.” He waves to the bartender. “Could you get her another vodka sour?”

  I shake my head. “I should go. I have to work tomorrow.”

  “It’s just one more drink,” Taylor says. “Everyone knows you’re the hardest worker in school. You should just chill tonight.”

  I feel heat rise into my face, either from the alcohol or the fact that others acknowledge that I work hard for everything I get. The bartender slides me over another glass. I sip more of the drink. Taylor talks about how his father is donating money to the pharmacy program and how I should go by his of
fice and check out the new beta fish. Or maybe he said Petri dish. I find it more and more difficult to concentrate on what he’s saying.

  “I should go,” I say, my words slightly slurred now. “Work tomorrow.”

  “I’ll walk you home,” he says.

  I glance over at Sam and Ahanna. They’re dancing with each other, even though the bar is playing rock music. “Sure,” I say. As we walk out, he puts his hand on my back to keep me steady. I look up to the sky and imagine the stars are all fish trying to escape from their bowl.

  “What are you looking at?” Taylor asks. I point up to the sky and almost stumble. He grabs me and wraps his arm around my shoulder. It makes me feel too close to him, but I don’t want to be rude when he’s only trying to help me home.

  When we reach the door of my apartment, I dig through my bag to get my keys.

  “You looked really hot tonight,” Taylor says.

  I flush and fumble my keys out of my bag. “I’m not hot,” I mutter.

  “Of course you are.” Before my thoughts can connect, his lips crash against mine. Instinctively, I shove him away. The hurt in Taylor’s eyes are clear and a frown cuts into his face.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean to—I was just surprised.”

  “You’re drunk. I understand. But maybe…we could go out on a date sometime?”

  My thoughts are bouncing around in my head now. Or maybe that’s just a headache growing inside my skull. “A date?” I ask like it’s a foreign concept. He nods. I can’t reject him after I just pushed him. And if I hadn’t reacted so quickly, I would have had time to enjoy the kiss. I would have enjoyed being wanted by a man. “Yeah. Sure.”

  He grins. “Great. How about tomorrow at six?”

  I nod. He steps forward and kisses me again. His tongue slips into my mouth and almost makes me gag, but I don’t dare pull away.

  He finally steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I turn around before he’s off the stairway. I unlock my door, run to the bathroom and throw up in the toilet.