Smoke and Wishes (Best Wishes #1)(6)

“I don’t know how to tell you this sweetheart, I don’t want you to get upset, but you’ll have to know this to understand the envelope,” she said as she filled the kettle with milk and placed it on the stove. “I have to tell you about your mother,” her eyes downcast towards the chipping tile of the counter.

“So you have to tell me about yourself?” trying to joke, I felt my throat starting to constrict.

“No sweetheart, your birth mother,” her cheeks shone with small tear tracks when she looked at me. “You see, Lucie, I found you when you were just a baby. Not even two weeks old, bundled in a large number of blankets along with a note and some trinkets.” She moved around the counter and sat in the vacant spot at the table and held my hand gently.

“Do you know who she was?” My voice was rough with emotions. Sniffling, I wiped the tears away on my shirt sleeve.

“Not her full name, no, but she did leave her first. Adelaide.”

August 25th

Saturday Morning

Lucienne





My alarm rang at seven with some automated, cheery tune that grated on my already thin nerves. I pushed the new, plush comforter down my torso so I could chill my sweat sheened body. Once I was able to catch my breath, I swung my legs over the edge of the twin sized bed and pushed to a sitting position. I could feel my hair sticking to my neck and upper back where my pajama top wasn’t covering me, deciding a quick shower would be a good idea before attempting to function, like an actual human being. Or supernatural, or whatever the hell the stupid phrase would be. It’s too early for this.

Once I was cooled and rinsed clean in the shower, I dressed in some simple, albeit a little short, black shorts and a loose grey tank. The arm holes were big enough that the band of my navy bra was visible, but I couldn’t bring myself to care at that moment. The tank made my addiction to caffeine blatantly apparent with the phrase "but first, coffee" in black font. I tossed my somewhat dried hair into a messy bun on the crown of my head, slipped on some sandals, and threw some supplies in my messenger bag.

When I was ready to head out for orientation, I realized the clock only said 7:35 AM. Oh my god yes, there’s time for coffee. I guess I should try to ingest something too, with breakfast being the most important meal of the day or some shit like that. I slipped out the front door of my shared dorm, that way I didn't rush Sadie who I heard stumbling and grumbling grouchily around in her bedroom. My sandals echoed through the stairwell as I made my way to the ground floor, having chosen to skip the line for an overly cramped elevator.

As I made my way over to Coffeeology, the campus coffee and pastry shop, for an extra large cup of caffeinated goodness, I noticed that there was an influx of activity around the quad. Since it was still early, most of the people I saw seemed to be struggling to wake up; disheveled clothing and yawning filled the grassy area.

I reached my destination and eagerly pulled open the front door. I was enveloped in the smell of coffee and baked deliciousness, the pleasant aromas making my mouth water. Multiple conversations permeated the air of the softly lit shop. A few of the low sitting chairs were occupied by students who didn't look familiar, while three baristas manned the counter and equipment.

"There's my caffeine addict!" announced a familiar voice from behind the espresso machine.

"Hey, Em," I chuckled as I got in line, trying to avoid the gazes as a few of the unknown faces that looked my way with Em's exuberant welcome.

"I'm assuming your usual so you can be bright eyed and bushy-tailed for orientation?” she questioned as she finished up several different sized beverages and set them on the pick-up counter. Emily, the owner of the Coffeeology, became quite familiar with my order over the summer since I stopped in on work days. I typically came in around three times a week, more like once a day… semantics.

"Yes please, but no croissant this morning," I respond, she shot me some finger guns before setting off to work on my order. Her light brunette hair was slightly frizzy and held away from her face with a red bandana. The baristas at Coffeeology had an all-black dress code, but being the owner allowed her the liberty of wearing whatever she felt like. Today, her plump figure was adorned by a plain grey A-line dress with three-quarter sleeves and a pair of red Doc Martens that matched her bandana perfectly and tied the quirky look together. I turned back to the shop as I waited, finally taking a moment to look around the small space.

There were a handful of clustered leather seats lining the corners, with square tables with wooden chairs dispersed inbetween them. Most of the tables are filled with one or two people sipping drinks and reading paperbacks, instead of reading textbooks and writing out notes, as was prevalent during the summer when I moved to campus. I guess that's what happens when school isn't officially in.

One group in the front corner seemed overly attention seeking. Girly laughter rang through the shop, they would whisper to one another and giggle at whatever was said, what is this? Fifth grade? Who giggles anymore? The four girls in question looked like they stepped off of a magazine cover with their high-end outfits and designer label bags. Plastic, like perfect barbies; blonde, brunette, and red hair so shiny it could blind a person. They continued to whisper among themselves as they eyed another cluster of chairs where a group of guys sat.

There were only four of the leather seats in the group of guys, so two of them had to pull up the wooden chairs from a nearby table. One of them was wearing a burgundy jersey with the number 22 and the name Rodriguez across the shoulders in white, while the rest were dressed casually. Why are there so many hot guys at this campus? I felt my pulse jump when I recognized the cutie with the glasses and a familiar head of inky black hair within the group. I whipped my head back towards the bustling workers, please don’t notice me. I took a deep breath, willing my heart rate to slow as Em placed the large cup of heavenly goodness on the counter.