I watched as she ranted, her face a vivid shade of red. It was almost impressive how worked up she was. Her words tumbled out in a rapid-fire volley, each one punctuated by the intensity of her frustration.
"-Did you just call me fuckface-?"
"Yes, I did," she snapped, her voice cutting through the air. "Ten minutes! While we all wait for you to get your flirt-on and finally leave. I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but it DOES NOT take ten minutes to place an order!"
I raised an eyebrow, genuinely amused now. "So, this is all about your precious time, huh? Seems like you're the only one bothered by it."
Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer, her frustration almost palpable. "It's not just about me. It's about basic courtesy. We're all waiting here, and you're acting like you're the only one who matters."
I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms. "And I suppose you think you're the hero of this story, huh? Standing up for all the poor souls waiting in line?"
She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Someone has to. Maybe if people like you weren't so self-centered, we'd all get through our days a little easier."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "You've got quite the attitude. I guess the barista isn't the only one here with a personal vendetta."
Her face flushed even deeper, but she seemed to catch herself, taking a deep breath. "Whatever. Just remember that not everyone thinks the world revolves around you. Maybe try being a little less of a dick next time."
She turned sharply and marched out of the coffee shop, leaving me standing there, a smirk still on my face.
The barista, who had watched the entire exchange in silence, finally spoke up. "Sorry about that. She's had a rough day. I'll make sure your coffee's on the house."
I shrugged, accepting the offer with a nod. "No problem. It's not the first time I've been called worse."
As I left the coffee shop, I couldn't help but replay the confrontation in my head. The girl in the red hoodie was something else, that was for sure. There was a fire in her that was hard to ignore. It made me curious—what was her story?
But as the evening wore on, I pushed those thoughts aside. For now, I had other things to deal with. Still, I had a feeling that our paths would cross again. And when they did, maybe I'd be ready to find out what lay beneath that fiery exterior.