Angel's Cafe- Jasmine Herbal Tea with Honey
Poor Heria tries to calm her nerves.
The tea cup clattered as it was lifted from the small saucer up to Heria’s lips—she hated how badly her hands were shaking. It was a surprise that she had not spilled it all over herself and ruined her new silk pajamas that her father had gone through such lengths to buy for her. She took a breath and tried to ease the cup back down and set it onto the nightstand beside her. She took a deep breath and looked at the napkin that was half crumped on one knee, then to her phone that rest on the other.
“Jasmine tea is supposed to calm you down,” she muttered to herself, maybe for the fifth time. She had even sweetened it with honey to mask the floral taste to it. But her heart was still pounding around her chest like a frantically trapped hummingbird. She scrubbed her fingers through her hair, found a little knot in the mess of chestnut brown and nearly shrieked as she worked it free.
Maybe she shouldn’t do this tonight. But it had already been three days since Julian had gotten that boy’s number. Granted, it had been Friday when he happened to drop by the café, and she had discovered she magically obtained some skills for espionage as she had successfully been able to dodge him all throughout school. But guilt had begun to worm its way into her heart. What if he was waiting on her to call him, and now thinking that she hated him?
But why would he want to talk to her? She found herself to be incredibly plain and boring. She had a part-time job as a barista to pay her way to the college of her dreams. She danced ballet but, didn’t everyone? She had too much brown hair, enormous brown eyes, hips that were entirely too wide and tiny hands, tiny feet, and a tiny nose that people liked to poke their fingertips to.
She didn’t notice the tear slipping along her cheek until she wiped it away. She had not realized that she was so self-conscious. And why was she doubting herself so harshly? Over a boy she hardly knew, no less! She snatched up her phone, furiously tapped the numbers in and hit ‘Send’ with a force so strong that she felt temporarily empowered. It felt amazing. She was brave, fearless—why wouldn’t he want to talk to her?
And then she heard the heavily accented “Hello?” and realized what she had done.
It had all been a front. She wasn’t ready for this level of confidence. She squeaked as she closed her phone and tossed it across her bed and covered her face. God, she was pathetic.
She went back to sipping at her tea to hide the hiccups that accompanied the oncoming tears. At least the tea tasted fine. It could use a little more honey, though. She was beginning to climb out of bed when the phone she had so readily pitched began to vibrate. She nearly dropped her cup and stared at it in horror before she reached for it.
God. Oh God. He was calling back.
She was terrified. She couldn’t breathe. What would she say? What would he say? She was run out of rings.
“H-hello?” She finally remembered how to accept calls. Was she breathing too hard? Christ.
“Hello?” Damon’s voice came through the other line. “Is this Heria?”
“U-uh… Uh…” She swallowed and sank back onto her bed. “Yes…”
“Oh!” The laugh she heard was so easygoing that she wanted to try to relax. “Good, yes! Hello! It is Damon. You called?”
“I um… yes, I… dropped my phone when I called, I’m sorry…” It was a little white lie, but she was whispering so he probably didn’t notice.
“It is okay. I am happy you call me. How are you?”
Happy? Her eyes fluttered a little and she rubbed her neck. “I’m… okay.”
“You are better, yes? The ah… one with yellow hair, he says you were nose-bleeding.” Damon’s voice dropped a bit with something unusual—concern, maybe? “But now you are okay?”
“O-oh. Yeah, I um… I get those a lot, I’m better now.” She cleared her throat and brushed some hair behind her ear. “Thanks. How are you?”
“I am very good. Well, Miss Aria works late tonight and I am not very happy. I had to cook for myself.” He laughed again, and she heard him shuffling. Was he calling from his bed too?
“You cook?” Heria was smiling a little, biting her lip. “What did you make?”
“Macaroni and cheese.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “It is my favorite.”
“Mine too,” she half blurted, then slapped her hand over her mouth, her face heating in embarrassment.
“Oh! I made too much. Maybe you can come and help!”
“No, no, no…” She giggled and covered her entire face. “My dad and I ordered pizza tonight.” “I see. Next time, then?”
“Um… s-sure. Maybe.”
“Ypéroches! Wonderful.”
The expression caught her by surprise and she sat up a little more. “You speak Greek?”
“Yes. It is where I’m from,” Damon answered, an undeniable affection in his voice.
Heria hesitated, chose her words very carefully, then replied: “Étsi eínai i̱ oikogéneiá mou.” So is my family.
The next twenty minutes were an excitable blur—Damon sounded so relieved to be speaking his mother tongue, and though Heria had to ask him to repeat things occasionally, she understood him for the most part. They talked about their classes, about homework that they had that day, and about Heria’s job, which was something he was oddly fascinated in. They were discussing the different drinks they had (thankfully in English) when, by the time she reached over for her tea again, it was ice cold.
“Oh, darn. I have to reheat my tea…” She set the cup down. “I hadn’t realized we had been talking so long.”
“That is all right. I have to go anyhow. I hear Miss Aria is coming back and I have to say hello. Will I see you at school tomorrow?” She heard Damon getting up and she imagined him stretching. Her faced warmed.
“Yeah. We can… maybe eat lunch together?” She curled a finger through her hair, wriggling with anticipation.
“Oh yes, as long as you promise not to run from me again,” Damon teased with a snort.
“Wh-what?”
“I said hello to you in the hall today. You ran away.” He chuckled. “Don’t do that anymore and we can spend very much time together, yes?”
Stunned, mollified, and feeling a little nauseous, Heria gave a numb nod then realized that he wasn’t sitting in front of her and wouldn’t see, then she managed to squeak out. “O-okay…” “Bye!” He hung up as she tried to echo him, but stumbled over her words.
She put the phone down and laid back down in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her nerves were completely shot, and no amount of tea was going to fix that.