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“You were tired, Miss Vitelli.”

“Thank you,” she says and then I hear the belt unclip. Next thing I know, she’s already walking toward the coffee shop.

32

Damien

Play - Boston By Augustana

Bitter without sugar

The bell above the door rings as I follow her inside. She doesn’t slow down and heads towards the counter like she’s done this a hundred times before.

“Look at that,” the man behind the bar says, grinning at her. “Still alive, Rey?”

She smiles then and replies, “You still burn the milk, Heath.”

“Only when you’re not around to yell at me,” he says. His eyes flick to me as he arches a brow. “Boyfriend?”

She doesn’t even glance back at me. “Professor.”

The man pauses, recalculates, then nods at me, “Welcome, sir.” He leans toward her next and lowers his voice, “They hire them young where you study.”

“He’s old,” she replies, looking at me with a smile.

“I heard that,” I say.

“Good.”

They laugh, then he turns to me and adds, “You don’t look old at all.”

I chuckle a bit before replying, “She’s probably uncomfortable to be here with me.”

She turns toward me shocked, “He thought I brought a date here.”

“Good thing I’m just your professor then. Let’s sit.”

We take a table by the window and I sit across from her this time as she just shrugs out of her jacket.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“Americano,” she says. Then, without looking up, “Two extra shots.”

I nod and go back to the counter.

“Careful,” the man, Heath apparently, says quietly as he hands me the cups. “She only drinks that when she hasn’t slept.”

“You know her well.”

He smirks as he looks at her. “I used to sign her paychecks.”

That explains everything.

When I sit back down, she’s staring out the window. The streets outside are familiar to her in a way they aren’t to me. For a moment she looks caught between here and somewhere else entirely.

I let her get lost in it for a few minutes, then I say, “You do that often.”

Her eyes turn to me. “Do what?”