Caramel Macchiato

A short story written by Julián Moraleda and Mikaela Lim

“I’m telling you, Trish. We’ll probably find some Sasquatches in some remote Siberian cave.”

“What? No. That’s about as real as the tooth fairy.”

“But the…”

Then, I noticed him across the café. The first time he caught my eye, he was studying with his friends, probably for some midterm. I didn’t know what to think. I tried to put my finger on it, but I just couldn’t. Maybe, it was his smile every time he’d thank the barista for his coffee in the morning. Possibly, it was the way his hair was tousled to just the right size; it looked like it was full of secrets. Perhaps, it was how there was never a hint of worry on his face even as hell weeks came and went.

Damn, I wish I could be that chill. Even during my lightest sem, I’d always find myself freaking out over the simplest requirement. 

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One day at school, I was sitting by the hallway with Trish, waiting for the bell. She turned to say hi to a friend while I mindlessly scrolled through some memes. I felt something familiar in the air, and when I looked up, he was standing half a foot away from me, coffee in hand. There it was, that same awkward smile. Our eyes met, and it was like we’d already known each other. 

“Hey, I’m Miguel.”   

Then, the bell ruined it. See you soon, Miguel. 

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Friday. I was waiting for Trish, and my coffee was getting cold. What was taking this girl so long? 

As I rolled my eyes, there he was at the end of the rainbow of my frustration. Miguel looked like he was drowning in all the notes that cluttered his table—studying on a Friday? How even. 

Our eyes met just as he began closing his books. Where the hell was Trish? He stood up and walked toward me. I was not prepared for this.

“Hi, I remember you. Didn’t we meet the other day?”

“Yeah, with Trish. I’m actually waiting for her right now. She’s stuck on C5.” 

“Bummer.”

“So why are you studying on a Friday night?” I asked. 

He shrugged, “Oh, I’m a Psych major. Chill is not in my vocabulary. You know what? I should take a break,” he said as he sat in the chair I saved.

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I love how every time I’d be sipping my afternoon cup, he’d always be there with his nose buried in his books. I love how, somewhat serendipitously, we’d line up to order at the same time. Those short chats we’d have while waiting in line always brightened my day.

Sometimes, we’d sit together while studying. We didn’t even have to talk much. In silence, he’d be memorizing a plethora of psych theories while I’d be tapping on my calculator and writing financial statements. Occasionally, I’d look up only to gaze into his brown eyes. I found comfort in our silence. 

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Midterms had just finished, so I knew he wouldn’t be too busy. Miguel seemed to be taking a breather finally, and there was not a single notebook on his table. “You got this,” I whispered to myself as I left my spot and made my way through the jungle of chairs, tables, and laptop chargers. 

“Hey, Miguel! Can I join you?”

“Yeah, sure. Have a seat.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Pretty good, actually. I’ve finally finished all of my–“

“Will you go out with me? On a date, I mean….” You idiot! Why did you cut him off?

It felt like the world suddenly stopped turning. My heart was racing on a NASCAR track. He looked at me with eyes that seemed to hold all the stars in the sky.

“Saks lang.*,” he said with a smirk. At that moment, I’d never heard a more beautiful saks lang in my entire life. 

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Last night, I waited an hour and a half. Why didn’t he show up? 

My coffee could barely stay in my cup as I was shaking my leg in the most nerve-wracking fashion. It’s past his usual coffee hour. Where did he go? 

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Two weeks passed, and I hadn’t caught even the slightest glimpse of him.

I began to ask around. Even his classmates didn’t know where he was or who he was. 

I spent more and more cups of coffee, hoping he’d take the bitterness away. That didn’t happen. 

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I found myself back in the hallway with Trish, back on that same bench where I met Miguel. I didn’t want to seem desperate, but I was dying to know where he went and if I’d ever see him again. 

“So, Trish, have you seen Miguel recently? 

“Huh, who’s that?”

“Oh, you remember earlier in the sem, he stopped to talk to us while we were waiting for his class on this very bench. You had to run to class, but I wasn’t in a hurry, so I stayed with him.”

“Who the f@#% are you talking about?”

*Saks lang is a tough one to translate. In this context, the colloquial Filipino phrase would best be translated as “Fine by me.”