Routine Romantic

Elena’s got a routine. She sticks to it religiously- some might even say she’s dependent on it. 

Part of that routine is her weekly reading session.

Every Tuesday, at around 4:30 PM, she takes whatever book she’s currently in the middle of to a nearby cafe. It’s a five minute walk away, and it takes about five minutes to order and receive her plain black coffee and warmed butter croissant- so she really gets started at around 4:40 PM. 

She’s had this routine for roughly five years now- and she’s perfected it. She doesn’t have to worry about rush hour because she walks, nor she doesn’t have to worry about college-student traffic because the only people who come to this particular cafe are locals. It’s just her, her coffee, and her book. 

“What’re you reading today?”

She’s gotten close with the staff- she used to be embarrassed by how punctual she was. At some point they started making her order as soon as they saw her outside. 

“I’m going for something calmer,” Elena answers, “A murder mystery.”

“Calmer?” Eric, the barista replies, scrunching up his nose. He’s always asking about the book she’s reading, how far she’s gotten. He’s always trying to push her out of her comfort zone, to read something lighter. A romance, maybe, or some fluffy fantasy that would make her head hurt. She’s not one for too much world building in one sitting.

“It is,” She insists quietly, “It’s very slow paced, a lot longer than the ones I usually read. A proper novel. I think it even has sequels. I’m considering reading them, I just haven’t decided yet.”

“I guess that would be calmer for you,” Eric decides, nodding as he listens to her, leaning against the counter. She’s never seen a particularly busy Tuesday. Her croissant is still in the oven behind the counter, warming up. She loves the smell of warm bread. 

“What are you waiting on?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“You said, you’re ‘considering’ reading the sequels, what’s halting your decision?” Eric clarifies.

“The ending,” Elena paused, “Both of the book itself, and the mystery. Sometimes, the mystery being solved just feels kind of… empty? And, I dunno- I don’t want to read a sequel if the book alludes to it. Like, I want it to be a good stand-alone story, you know?”

“Oh, I get it,” Eric agrees, “It feels like a cheap attention and cash grab.”

“Exactly,” Elena nods. Eric’s better with words than she is- but she also tries to avoid speaking at all if she can.

“Oh, fuck, wait-“ Eric seems to panic for a moment, almost bouncing from the counter to the microwave oven, opening it and pausing for a moment before frowning, “This is the first time I’ve ever burned a croissant dude.”

Elena raises her eyebrows out of slight amusement, but says nothing. 

“Here, sit down, I’ll get that croissant to you okay? I don’t wanna stall your reading anymore,” Eric looks genuinely apologetic, and Elena almost reassures him that it’s okay, she knows he didn’t mean to. 

Almost.

Instead, she gives a quick, “Thanks, man,” and takes her usual spot at her usual corner table, setting her coffee down and taking out the murder mystery she was stumped by. 

At this point its 4:49.

(Does she spend too much time at the barista counter?)

Well, it doesn’t matter- she’s got her book open in front of her now, it’s time to get busy.

The woman easily knocks out a couple of chapters, and unfortunately, can see herself losing interest in the book by the time she’s well into the last third of its story. It’s the first in a trilogy, so she already has an idea of who the reoccurring characters are going to be if she picks up the other works in the series. She feels she already has an idea of who the murderer is, but she can also feel that there is, in fact, going to be a plot twist- and she’s not sure which irritates her more-

“Hi! I hope I’m not late, oh my god, I walked passed this place like three times.”

When Elena gets bored, she gets nosy. She almost wants to listen in on the conversation next to her. She didn’t even realize people had sat next to her. Usually, no one does- there’s enough room in the cafe for everyone to have their own space-

“You look so cute by the way, oh my gosh! Almost makes me wish I dressed up more.”

Elena finally looks up to see a woman standing in front of her. 

Oh.

She was talking to her.

“I’m sorry?” Elena finally asks.

“Your outfit?” The woman asks, tucking her hair behind her ear, “It’s really cute, that’s all.”

“Oh…” Elena just threw her usual jacket over a turtleneck and pants. She wore her everyday boots that were definitely on their way out, “Thanks.”

She glances down at her book, flipping the page. She was no where near the end of that particular page, she was just hoping the other got the hint.

The woman stands there awkwardly for a moment, before clearing her throat, tilting her head.

“Can I sit down?”

No.

“I don’t think…” Elena doesn’t know what to say. She looks around and realizes she was the only person in the cafe besides Eric now, “…Sure.”

The woman frowned, clearly caught off guard by Elena’s demeanor, “Sometimes people are a little more shy in public I get it.”

Elena’s not sure how to ask, ‘Literally who are you?' without it being rude. Instead she stays silent as she slowly puts her book down.

“Oh my god, I used to read that series! It wasn’t my favorite, I’ll be honest,” The stranger starts talking, smiling as she points to the cover, “I kind of read it in like a ‘I know exactly what to expect, I don’t know why I’m reading this, but I also can’t look away,’ kind of way, you know?”

Yes, Elena does know, but who is this girl?

“Oh, we should probably share our names, now that we’re meeting, I’m Camila,” Camila, supposedly, holds out her hand for Elena to shake.

…Okay. 

That wasn’t helpful at all.

“Now… that we’re meeting…” Elena echoed, carefully shaking her hand.

“Yeah, it was really easy to find you once I found this place, ‘cause you know, you’re like the only one here. Also the red blazer was a dead giveaway! I love it, it’s so cute. Where’d you get it?”

This is surreal, and Elena is so lost. Part of her wants to entertain the stranger, but the other part of her feels like she should tell her she confused Elena for someone else. 

“What’s your name by the way?”

‘You were planning on meeting someone you didn’t know the name of?’ Elena wants to ask, but holds back.

“Elena,” She introduces herself cautiously.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl,” Camila doesn’t miss a beat, and it only serves to make the experience all the more confusing.

“Uh, thanks,” Elena licks her lips, squinting a bit as she decides on what to say next, “So… why don’t you tell me more about you?”

“…Like?”

“What… do you do?”

Camila stares at her for a moment, blinking, “Are you messing with me?”

Ah shit.

“A little bit,” Elena pushed, “Pretend I’m a stranger.”

‘Because I am,’ She thought, ‘A very confused one, and I have no idea who you are.’

“Okay, well, stranger,” Camila laughed, like the concept was ludicrous, “I work in art restoration.”

Okay, still not helpful. But interesting.

Maybe Elena should just tell her. 

“I-“

“-What about you, stranger?” Camila speaks softly, tilting her head and smiling, “What do you do? I don’t think I ever asked, but we did only have like, thirty minutes to talk before we agreed to the date.”

Okay, a dating thing, Elena’s getting somewhere.

‘But then why don’t you recognize your date? Is this like a weird thing organized by your parents? Or a dating app? But then you’d have profile pictures…’ Every hypothesis Elena came up with she immediately shot down with another thought, feeling now at this point she has to tell this girl she’s not her date.

“I’m a magazine editor,” Elena tells her.

“Ooh, what’s that like?” Camila asks.

Elena can’t find a good time to interject and tell her that she’s not her date. So at this point, she decides to let the conversation continue.

“It’s nothing special, really, it’s a fashion magazine, so I’m mostly making sure the things we put in the magazine fit our brand… or, I make sure that the other editors in our branch are doing their jobs, you know, things like that…”

“Oh, so you’re head of your branch?”

“Kind of? I guess?” Elena tilts her head, “I’ve never thought about it that way, more like I’m the beta-reader before the issue gets passed on to higher-ups. I mean, yeah I have to approve stuff, and I do some managerial things, but I feel more like a part of the team than a boss…”

In an hour, Elena has talked more about herself than she has in years.

She doesn’t mean to, and she doesn’t know how Camila makes it so easy- they’ve never talked before. 

Camila carries a lot of the conversation, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She talks about herself too- she has a younger sister she loves dearly, and two cats. She loves her job so much, and was ecstatic when she landed a gig with the biggest museum in their city. She paints too, although not as often as she would like to. She spends most of her free time reading on her phone- and would like to go out and do more things, but has had a hard time making friends since she moved out here.

She also really has a penchant for pet names, but she didn’t have to tell Elena that- the woman figured it out on the forth “of course, dear, of course,” that had caused her to look anywhere but Camila for a few seconds.

Elena has never stayed at the cafe past closing before. Eric eventually politely kicks them out after he’s finished mostly closing what he could, and the two say their goodbyes to him, walking out together, arms linked.

“It’s so cold, oh god,” Camila shivers a bit, huddling close to Elena for warmth.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Elena says, Camila’s only response being to smile fondly.

Then, Elena is hit with a wave of nausea.

That’s right. She’s not her actual date. 

It’s sickening- how well this false date went. She wishes she was the right person Camila was trying to meet.

“Camila,” Elena says, suddenly quiet.

“Hm?”

“I meant to tell you earlier,” She said, “I don’t think I was the person you were supposed to meet.”

The silence stretches on too long for Elena’s liking, so she continues, “I tried to tell you at first, but then we got off topic, and I couldn’t find a good time to tell you, so I just kind of hoped at some point a ‘good time’ would arise, and then it didn’t, and-“

“I know,” Camila interrupts, laughing a little at Elena’s anxious rambling.

What?

“You know?” Elena asked, staring up at Camila, wide eyed.

“I figured it out when you went back to your book pretty much immediately after me saying hi,” Camila admitted, “I didn’t want to admit I got the place wrong. I’m sorry for accosting you like that. But I had fun.”

Now it’s Elena’s turn to laugh, the woman relieved and shocked all at once, “That was so- oh!”

Camila even joins her, covering her mouth as she apologizes again, “I’m sorry- I don’t know what I was thinking-!”

When they finally calm down, they fall into another silence- but this time, much more comfortable than the last. 

“Need a ride home?” Camila asked, leaning against her car.

“I can walk, it’s ten minutes,” Elena says, but makes no move to leave.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Camila pouts a little, and Elena chuckles again.

Elena’s not a particularly bold person, in fact, she likes sticking to routine. Some might say she’s dependent on it.

But today, at 4:49 PM, her routine had been messed up, just a little bit.

She can mess it up one more time.

“You can come over if you want? Just for a little bit.”

“I’d love that.”