“Soy milk latte for Thomas,” I called out over the sound of fingers moving furiously across keyboards.

Ten minutes until my break.

I eyed the few remaining free tables, hoping that my evil stare would stop other students from sitting at them. It didn’t work.

What good was a break if I couldn’t use it to get some work done? We were a whopping two months into the semester—or ‘term,’ as they called it here—and I was already behind on my studies.

The scariest part was that I only had six more months to go before finishing my master’s degree. A year abroad had sounded like a long time when I’d been back in California. The plan had been to come here and get a degree, and then stay to work for an English company. Unfortunately, that meant getting a visa, and they weren’t exactly giving them out like candy any more. Time was running out fast. If I didn’t get a visa soon, then I’d be heading back home to a lifetime of bad memories and a mother who was still pissed at me.

I’d come to England to get over Stan by hooking up with cute English guys, and I’d done just that. Okay, not all of them had been that cute, but it was better than sitting alone in my room and wallowing in self-pity.

Now I didn’t want to go home.

“You’re daydreaming again, babe,” Ellie whispered in my ear.

I came to my senses and saw a man—presumably Thomas—waiting for me to hand over his soy latte.

“Sorry,” I muttered, as I handed over the drink.

“Still dreaming about your Prince Charming?” Ellie teased.

She knew I’d come to England hoping to be swept off my feet by a Benedict Cumberbatch look-alike. The closest I’d come was taking a drink order from someone who looked a bit like Martin Freeman.

“There’s still time,” I replied. “You must have some charming men around here.”

“If there are, I ain’t found any of them. And let me tell you, that one you locked lips with last night was no Prince Charming.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Turns out not all the frogs turn into princes after a kiss.”

“I might be able to hook you up with a friend tomorrow night if you’re interested?”

“No, thank you,” I replied immediately. “I’m still having nightmares about the last guy you set me up with. You told me he looked like a famous soccer player.”

“Football player,” she corrected. “And I wasn’t lying.”

“Yes, but you failed to tell me that the soccer player in question was Wayne Rooney.”

“You wouldn’t have known who he was, even if I had told you.”

“I could have googled him. I turned up expecting to meet someone who looked like David Beckham.”

Ellie laughed loudly, and then quickly covered her mouth as the customers looked up to glare at her. “Okay, fair play, that guy was a bit of a sinker. Tell you the truth, he was sniffing around me so I used you to get him off my case.”

“Have I told you what I good friend you are lately?”

“No, you haven’t said that in a while.”

“Yeah, go figure.”

The rush of customers had died down now that lectures for the day had started, but a few more wandered in looking worse for wear. It was the same every Friday morning. Thursday night was the big student night at the local club, and we were still far enough from exams that people were going to every event they could hoping to hook up.

I’d been one of them. I’d even latched on to a nice enough guy who seemed capable of holding a conversation. But he kept drinking. And drinking. Eventually he ended up not even knowing the way home. If he didn’t know the way home, he wouldn’t know the way to anything else important. No thank you.

The café I worked in was staffed nearly entirely by students, and most of them were clever enough to insist on not working Fridays. I hadn’t known any better when I started, so now I always had to work one of the busiest and most understaffed shifts available. Wasn’t I lucky?

“Let’s go out tonight,” Ellie said, while we stood next to each other pouring coffees. The smell of fresh coffee did wonders for my hangover, but the heat made me sweaty and sticky. Not a particularly attractive combination.

“I went out last night,” I replied.

“I know, I was there. You’re a student. You’re supposed to go out all the time.”

“Yes, but I’m a mature student. I don’t have the energy for that any more.”

“You’re twenty-three, Sophia. Not fifty-three.”

I considered it for a moment, but shook my head. Every night was the same. It would start well. Guys would smile at me, some of them would come over. We’d chat, we’d flirt, we’d kiss.

And then someone would suggest doing shots.

British men could certainly handle their drink, but they didn’t know their limits. The men would egg each other on until they were all “completely plastered,” and that would be the end of my dreams for the evening.

I wouldn’t quite say I regretted coming to England, but it hadn’t been all I’d hoped for either. It was still better than what I’d left behind; a broken engagement, and a broken heart.

“You’re coming,” Ellie insisted.

“Why? So I can meet more immature students?” I grabbed the finished coffee and walked back to the counter. “Americano for Laura,” I yelled out, as I slapped the coffee down and took another order.

“We’re not going to a student club,” Ellie continued when I made it back to the cappuccino machine. “Dani got us into Viva. It’s over twenty-ones only, so the clientèle is a little more upmarket.”

“Can’t be that upmarket if they’re letting you in.”

“I will have you know,” Ellie said, putting on a posh, upper-class accent, “I can be perfectly sublime when I go to the effort.” She flicked her hair for good measure, before reverting back to her normal voice. “Plus, Dani sucked off the bouncer last night, so he’ll let us in.”

“I don’t know… I have so much work to do.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. This place is uber-sophisticated. They don’t sell any drinks that cost less than £10.”

“Well now you’ve sold me,” I replied sarcastically. “I can spend an entire month’s wages in one night.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, but another customer appeared before she could reply. Ellie disappeared to take the order, while I tried—and failed—to make a flower in the foam of the coffee. How did people do that?

“Why do people order tea in a place like this?” Ellie asked after serving the customer. “We’re literally just sticking a tea bag in hot water. How lazy do you have to be not to do that at home? I mean, it’s one thing it you’re making a proper brew with milk and all, but this is just green tea.”

She poured some hot water, and walked back to the counter with a big smile. “Here you go,” she said cheerfully to the customer she’d just insulted. For a brief moment, I thought I’d escaped a lecture, but I should have known better. “Look, you’re always complaining about not meeting charming English gentleman. That’s because you’ve been looking in the wrong places. I mean, look around here.” Ellie waved an arm around the café. “Hardly a prize pool, is it?”

“I guess not,” I admitted.

Most of the guys here were friendly enough, but I had to admit that none of them excited me in any way. I recognized a few from class, but a lot of them were undergrads. They were only a couple of years younger than me, but it made a huge difference.

“We need to meet some older gentleman,” Ellie said. “Ones who know how to treat a lady.”

“And you,” I joked.

“I can be a lady, thank you very much. Right up until the moment I get them naked that is.”

A smile crept across my face, but I quickly shook it off. “I can’t afford it.”

“Sophia, I don’t know how things work in your country, but over here pretty young things like us don’t have to pay for our own drinks. We’ll just sit there at the bar and wait for men to come over.”

Ellie turned her back to me and went to serve a customer before I could argue. Typical. She appeared by my side again before I’d even had time to sigh in frustration.

“I’ll do you a deal,” she said excitedly. “I’ll let you serve the next customer, if you agree to come out tonight.”

I must have misheard her. “Wait, you want me to do more work, and in return you get what you want?”

“Trust me on this,” she added with a wink. “You’re going to want to serve the next customer.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue, and at least work kept me busy. I walked toward the customer, brushing the chocolate dust from my hands onto my apron as I did so.

Then I looked up at the man waiting in line.

Oh. Shit.