16 17 THE CEDARVILLE REVIEW cup, is my name with one extra letter. “Hailey.” I look at the receipt. “Pepp. Mocha frappe.” I wrap my clammy palm around the cylinder. It’s warm. I wanted it frozen, but they gave it to me hot. With smarting shoulders from the unbearable weight of my backpack, I pick it up and drag my suitcase as though it were a lazy bulldog on a leash. By now, I really do have to get my flight figured out. Boarding starts in 15. I’m scowling. The drink isn’t overly hot in my hand, meaning it’s been sitting there for a while, meaning I could have taken it, sat down, and studied, meaning I wasted time. Resentment settles heavy over me, weightier than all my luggage. I don’t want to go home. I’m not ready for winter, finals week, the real world. But then I slow my feet, lift the cup to my lips and tilt it back. It’s cooled off to the perfect temperature. The minty-fudge elixir hits my tongue, almost spicy, but pleasant. I pause, find an open seat by the window, and sit down. I take another sip, exhaling before a woman speaks over the intercom. “Haley Kollstedt? Passenger Haley Kollstedt, can we see you at the desk, please?” My heart jumps, stomach knotting. I spring up with unexpected energy, drink still in hand. Perhaps the caffeine is already kicking in. People clump in various spaces along my path. I snake my way through. The gate agent’s eyes meet mine. One black tendril falls from her ponytail, resting over her plump cheek. She leans against the desk and smiles. “Haley?” “Hello! That’s me.” I hold my breath. She glances at her computer. “We’ve got a seat for you.” “Really?” Surprise lilts my voice as she prints my boarding pass. “Thank you!” For a moment, I forget about my sore back, unwritten papers, and the coming winter. I take the ticket, and another swig of my Starbucks. Thick cocoa coats my tongue, and I savor it. The airport cacophony levels out for just a second, fading into some hiss between lapping waves and falling snow. A fire, perhaps.
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