The Espressologist Read Online Free

wear the same size. We are constantly raiding each other’s closets.
    I finger a pink fake cashmere sweater with my left hand and flip open my cell and dial with my right. My mom will kill me if I don’t call to check in.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œHey, Mom.”
    â€œHi, sweetie . . . on your way home?” Mom says.
    â€œNot exactly. I’m at Em’s.” I pull a silver scoop-neck sweater out of the closet, hold it against myself, and turn to show Em. She shakes her head no.
    â€œHow was your day?” Mom asks, and I can hear tapping in the background. She’s obviously typing on the computer while talking to me.
    â€œGreat, actually. Derek made me assistant manager.”
    â€œOh, honey, that’s fantastic! It won’t interfere with school though, will it?”
    I doubt it. “No, of course not. Hey, Mom, is it okay if Em, Katie, Ava, and I go hang out at Jen’s?” Not a lie. We will be hanging out at Jen’s. Along with fifty of her closest friends.
    â€œOkay, Jane, but be home before midnight.”
    â€œâ€™Kay.”
    â€œAnd keep your phone on.”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œLove you,” Mom says.
    â€œLove you, too. Bye.”
    â€œAll cool?” Em asks when I hang up.
    â€œYep.” I return my attention to Em’s closet.
    â€œHey, that was funny what you were telling Sarah about your notebook tonight.” Em eyes the notebook that I threw on her bed as she slips on her new skinny jeans and lies back on her bed to button them.
    I laugh. “That girl is so nosy. I was getting sick of her asking me about it.” I pick up a pair of Em’s black leggings and a white-and-black striped skirt and hold them against myself while looking in her mirror.
    â€œSo, Dr. Freud, how long is your study of people’s coffee habits going to go on?” Em has read through some of my descriptions before and thinks they are hilarious. And accurate, of course.
    â€œI don’t know. It’s fun and pretty fascinating. I can tell so much about people from their drinks. I actually got an idea tonight that I’m thinking about trying out,” I say.
    â€œYeah? What’s that?”
    â€œWell, it really depends on how willing my
subjects
are.”
    â€œOh god, just tell me I’m not one of your ‘subjects,’ ” she pleads, stopping to look at me before she continues to outline her right eye with dark brown pencil.
    â€œBoring ol’ medium-hot-chocolate you?” I say. “Nah. Besides, you have a man already.” Em has been dating the everreliable Jason Jones since freshman year in high school. I swear they are going to get married one day.
    â€œWell, I don’t see him around tonight, do you?” she says. “And sometimes I get a coffee hot chocolate, so there.”
    â€œYou told me.”
    â€œBut seriously, do tell. What does having a man have to do with this?”
    â€œWell,” I start, not sure how exactly to say it. “You know how earlier tonight I was telling you how awesome Gavin is and how we should set him up with someone?”
    â€œYeah . . .” she says, sitting down next to me on the bed.
    I flip open my book to “medium iced vanilla latte.” “Look.” Em quickly reads my entry.
Medium Iced Vanilla Latte
    Smart, sweet, and gentle. Sometimes soft-spoken but not a doormat. Loyal and trustworthy. A good friend. Decent looks and body.
    â€œWhat about it?” Em asks.
    â€œHold on.” I flip through the pages of my notebook again. “Now read this.”
Medium Dry Cappuccino
    Smart and simple. Fit and fairly good-looking. A little timid and soft-spoken but probably a powerhouse if ever tested. A good friend.
    â€œOkay . . . where is this leading?” Em is totally confused now.
    â€œDon’t you see? They’re perfect for each other!” I squeal.
    â€œThe drinks? What are you going to do with