She runs the dirty cloth along with counter, nose wrinkling at the sight of the coffee beans scattered everywhere. Well that's what she gets for working at a place where the owner can't add two and two and hire a cleaning lady that actually cleans.

There are few customers at the shop, which is pleasing for once. Even though more customers equals more tips-and she gets many tips, she isn't exactly ugly-she actually enjoys the quiet for once, the only sound being the gentle murmurs of the people and the quiet beeping of the coffee machine.

She takes this chance to throw the rag in the trash-this earned her a dirty look from the manager, but screw him-and swipes her iPod off the counter, placing the white ear buds in her ears.

After a few minutes she decides on one of her newer songs, one that she had discovered while flipping channels. It was in a movie, a kid's movie, but the song is surprisingly good.

Insecure in her skin, like a perp, a girl on a string…

The beat is a bit slower than what she usually listens to, but it suffices as she hops over the counter-again earning a dirty look from the manager-and starts to put down the chairs, for it is almost eight and around that time is when more customers come in.

Broke away, learned to fly, if you want her back, gotta let her shine…

She hates that line of the song; partly cause it is a stupid metaphor and partly cause it's just plain annoying, but the overall song speaks of a girl that is no more, one that got a new start.

She thinks that she might like the writer of the song, cause the girl has some damn good experience.

So it looks like the joke's on you, cause the girl you thought you knew…

Then the bell rings on the door and a brush of air comes in but she doesn't particularity care, just continues to focus on putting the chairs to the ground and straightening tables.

She feels a tap on her shoulder and scowls, but quickly turns the face into a smile when she remembers that this job is all about being perky. But when she turns around and sees who it is, her smile disappears and a smirk replaces it.

It's him.

He, she thinks, is the single most persistent guy I've ever met. That was true, of course. He had been coming here for the past three days, only ordering food from her, refusing service from anyone else. It had been slightly funny at first, but was getting a bit annoying.

He lets out a half-hearted smile and puts his hands in his pockets, his green eyes never leaving her gray ones. "Hey," he says quietly. "Can I have my usual?"

She can hear him fine, but in order to seem like she actually cares-her boss is watching with narrowed eyes near the corner-she reaches up and takes her earphone out, cutting off the music. She places her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow, ignoring how he might actually be kind of cute. "What," she asks. "Is there not someone else who can do it?"

"No one else knows my order," he shoots back, "and I am a customer."

Her smirk disappears, this time forming into a frown. "Fine," she hisses, before turning as quick as possible and slipping behind the counter again.

She can feel his eyes on her while she makes the drink, then pulls a scone from the cabinet. She turns and rings up the purchase but doesn't look at the price, having memorized it. In the back of her mind something teases her about knowing it but she just brushes it off.

Clearing her throat, she speaks. "That'll be two thirty."

He brings out a wallet and hands her the credit card. She scans it, and for once glances at the name that comes with it.

Wallace West, it reads in a fancy scribble, and she looks up, amused. "Your name is Wallace?"

He frowns. "Wally," he insists, before glancing at his awaiting food. "Can I have my food?"

As she hands it to him their fingers brush and a shock runs through her. She jerks her hand back and a rush of fear comes through her. The last time she felt like that…

She just shakes her head and mutters an apology, all while ignoring his sharp eyes on her.

The next day he comes in he doesn't bother to wait in line, just speeds to the front and hands her a slip of paper.

She's in the middle of ringing up another customer and shoots an annoyed glance at him. "I'm working," she hisses, before finishing the purchase and handing the customer their food and drink.

When the line is gone she finally looks up at him, then down at the small, crumbled paper on the counter. She picks it up carefully, wary of what it might read.

She laughs when she sees it's a phone number, and looks up at him. "Why are you giving me your number?"

He shrugs. "You wanna go out sometime?"

The question is one she hears almost every day from random guys, yet something stops her from saying her usual answer. Something about him seems different, almost nice even…

"Sure."

A smile crosses her face and he starts to leave, then pauses. "Your name is very unique."

She wonders how he knew her name, but then looks down at the sparkling letters on her name tag. "Thanks," she mutters, before turning to the next customer, all while glancing with a smile at the tag. She must be going insane, because she has no idea why she agreed to go on a date with the random red-head.

Artemis Crock, the swirl reads, and for once she is happy that her name is just that.