By Molly McTernan
“Ugh, could you be any slower?”
I risk a glance over my shoulder to look at the current angry customer. She’s dressed in an expensive-looking coat and is staring daggers into the back of Jimmy, my coworker, who is fumbling to spray whipped cream into her mocha.
He doesn’t reply as he drizzles a little chocolate over the cream and hands it to her over the counter. She simply turns up her nose and spins away.
People these days. Not only do we have enough things to worry about (like aliens on the loose), but people will become impatient over little things like coffee. There’s only so many things a barista can take, even if I am a superhero. Speaking of which…
My attention snaps back to the customer in front of me. She’s a young woman, probably around my age, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks when I realize how long I must have been watching Jimmy’s fiasco instead of paying attention to her.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I mumble. “What was it you wanted?”
Surprisingly, a tired smile moves across her face. “I can’t decide. You choose.”
I can’t remember ever getting that before. A customer letting me, James, decide on a specialty drink for them? I look closer at this girl, taking in the bags under her eyes and her flannel jacket. She needs a pick-me-up, and maybe a fall-flavored one at that.
“I’ll put you down for a pumpkin spice latte. Sound good?”
After she nods, I rattle off the price and hand her the receipt, immediately turning to work on her drink. After mixing the liquid and securing the lid, I move down to the to-go counter and pass her the latte. Steam is coming through the little sip hole, and her fingers grasp the drink as she breathes deeply, making eye contact with me.
“Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
I inwardly chuckle.
If she only knew.
“That I am!”
Not caring to see her reaction, I rush back to the register to take on the next customer.
***
I check my watch and realize that it’s five o’clock; my shift is over. I run to the back and untie the strings of my apron, relieved to take it off. Jimmy has the same shift as me, and I catch his shoulder on the way out.
“Hey, what happened with that angry lady?”
“I don’t know, man.” Jimmy shrugs. “What can you expect once we get the holiday flavors out, and the weather gets cold? People want their drinks, and they want them quick.”
I snort. “You can say that again. Our entire shift is rushing out of here every day because we’re so exhausted from dealing with customers.”
I glimpse that young woman’s face in my head as I hang my apron on the wall and grab my leather satchel bag, tugging my puffer coat over my arms. She’s the odd one out as one of the few patient customers in the past few days.
Even after I head outside into the chill and darkening evening, I keep thinking about her. Something tells me it won’t be the last time I’ll see her.
Just then, I hear a screech.
What’s that? I whip around, startled by a far-off noise. It almost sounded like someone… yelling. I shoulder my leather bag and tear off, dodging cars as I cross the street, bumping into people, and excusing myself as I barge down the sidewalks.
Then I see it. Or rather, him. And her.
There, at least a hundred feet above me. It’s hard to see in the waning light, but I can make out the definite image of a bald, muscular man with a thick pair of sunglasses to hide his face. To make matters much worse, he’s holding on to a young woman who’s flailing at the edge of the office building roof.
And she just so happens to be the nice one from the coffee shop earlier.
The man—or rather, alien in disguise—I’d recognize anywhere. He’s usually pretty good with people, but I’ve been keeping an eye on him and can perfectly picture what happened.
Somehow, he must have detected her latte, and due to caffeine being deadly poisonous to his type of alien, got scared.
Then, in his fright, he must have accidentally activated his portal-hopping tool disguised as a wristwatch and taken them to an unlikely and unwanted location.
Well, he’s not the only one in disguise. Duty calls. Shrugging my puffer jacket and leather satchel to the ground, I bend my knees and… up, up, up I fly.
I’m not normally this rash. In fact, I might be seen today, maybe even identified, because I didn’t have time to go home and change into my suit. But there’s a life at stake.
When I’m about halfway up the building to the woman, she teeters and starts falling, her ear-splitting shriek rushing adrenaline through my core. I fly faster and higher and—yes!
The woman lands in my arms, and I drop a few feet due to the impact. I have one arm under her knees and one under her shoulder. I make sure I have a good hold before I slowly drop back down to the street. I don’t want to jostle her further, but I also need to get out of sight as soon as possible.
Her eyelids stay closed for a few seconds, utter fear twisting across her face in lines of agonized anticipation. But when she opens her eyes and sees that she’s suspended in the air instead of falling to her death, her face draws together in shock.
She is probably trying to sort through the fact that not only is a flying man holding her, but that he’s the barista she got a latte from earlier. In a moment, her face relaxes, and she smiles in disbelief. Leaning close, she whispers something breathlessly into my ear.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
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This story has a charming vibe. You have a great callback on the title.
Nice twist on the character and his unique weakness! Great job!
What a sweet story! 💙💙
Great story!
Therrus watches from the ledge. “Phew, for a second there I sure she was not going to live long and prosper”