"If you could have any superpower in the world-" Leaning over the counter, I had to stand on tiptoes to wipe the edge with my rag. It was my favourite rag because it had little cartoon kittens on the front. Wow, what a weird thing to say. Never mind. It was also my favourite place to wipe because it was my best friend and partner in crime (and the future getaway driver to the many bank heists to come) Ade Sinclair's favourite place to sit.

Ade took a sip of his latte, choked, coughed, sputtered, wiped his mouth, and frowned at me. Even after three years of drinking coffee, he never remembered that liquid can be hot and burn tongues. And yet, Ade always did. Kind of sad, really, but also hilarious. Hilarious for me, that is. I don't think a scorched tongue was very fun for him. "You know what? I actually thought about that before." He pushed up his glasses and grinned.

Ade Sinclair was the undeclared love of my life and the biggest animal lover in the world. No, seriously. He was. Once, I watched him accidentally step on the tail of a cat and spend the next hour singing ballads and apologizing to it, like it could understand him. He was studying to be a veterinarian at NYU at the moment.

Ade wiped his mouth again. "Let's see....if I could have any superpower in the world, it would be reality warping. For example, this latte." He looked down at his cup half filled with his drink. The pretty swan design I had made was gone by now. "I could make it the perfect temperature to drink so I wouldn't burn my tongue. Or that guy over there." He gestured to a man sitting with another man, slurping coffee like it was a Slurpee. "I could freeze that coffee in his hands. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Definitely." I agreed.

"Anyways, what about you?" Ade peered at me from over his glasses. His light brown eyes rested on my necklace for a moment before travelling up to meet my own eyes. "What superpower would you pick?"

"Flying." I said without hesitation. "Retractable wings, to be specific. New York nights and Disney World mornings. Also, a bird crapped on my window this morning and I just want to one-up those little bitches, like, bam, I can fly too, what's good? What if I crapped on your  window, bird? Oh. Well, I guess birds don't have windows, do they? Huh-"

"Nerd."

My mouth dropped open. "How dare you! We're best friends with Matt LeBlanc, you can't speak to me that way." I smiled, looking over my shoulder to the photograph hanging over the espresso machine. It was a picture of the famous actor and my father shaking hands. He came by once when he was in New York. In other words...best day of my life. I mean, I wasn't there to see him, but the picture made me assume it would have been the best day of my life. I was a sucker for celebrities. My hope of running into Adam Levine one day still stands strong.

Ade smirked, but said nothing on the subject. I wiped down the rest of the counter with my rag.

Espresso House was my life. I grew up in this place. My father bought this old place and turned it into a coffee shop. It's where he met my mother. Together, they ran this place until I was old enough to join. I was eighteen now. Only a couple more months of high school and then I could join Ade at NYU.

I was content with taking a year off to help around the coffee shop, but my parents were completely against it. They wanted me to go straight to college after graduation. We hadn't been pulling the biggest amounts of money lately. As a small business in the heart of New York City, in between designer shops and huge corporations, the coffee shop didn't bring in as much as my parents would have liked. But still, I was not complaining. We had enough to put me through college and live comfortably in our apartment complex across the street. Rent was never late and that was enough for the time being.

Our coffee shop, ran mostly by my mother, a few other waiters and waitresses, and I, was a comfortable place. A wooden counter ran the length of half the room. Tables and booths were spread across the marble floor. Pretty white columns supported the ceiling, which was painted a light blue to coordinate with the cream colour of the walls. There was a carpeted area with couches for a small lounge and a floor to ceiling length bookshelf with books on one end and pretty cups on the other. We had chandeliers instead of light fixtures, which gave the entire room a cozy yet sophisticated feel.

After serving a few more tables, I walked back to Ade. He was now finished with his latte and mulling deep over a stack of papers shoved carelessly into a book. Taking in the time, I tapped the counter to grab his attention. It was ten in the morning. Only a few people were in and it was mostly quiet. "Hey, you're going to be late for class." I warned, wiping off the counter. My gaze was suddenly caught by something.

It appeared to be a newspaper clipping, bearing headline news. The publication was from Canada. Why would Ade have a Canadian newspaper? I could barely make out what the title said before Ade snatched it up.

Ade, startled, looked at the clock hanging above the board with the specials. "Oh, crap. Sorry, that's nothing." He stood up and quickly began putting his books into his bag. "Thanks, Florence. Here." He plucked a ten dollar bill from the mess in his pockets and gave it to me.

"No, take it." I reached over the counter and put the money back into one of the pockets of his bag. "It's on me."

"Are you sure?" He mumbled, still occupied with gathering his things. Ade was always late for everything. Even if he came an hour early, he would still find someway to end up arriving later than the set time. A flaw, but one that I found adorable. "Florence-"

"Seriously, go." I nudged my chin towards the double doors. "You're going to be late and I don't feel like ringing your purchase up."

"Oh, the advantages of being friends with a waitress." Ade chuckled, leaning over to peck my cheek with a small kiss. It was our usual way of saying goodbye, something that my mother always made fun of us for. You know mothers. Always so nosy and inquiring when it came to love. Not that I loved Ade or anything. I mean, other than as a friend- where was I going with this again?

"I'm not a waitress.''

"Then what are you?"

"I'm Florence, that's who." I grinned.

Ade shook his head, his dark brown hair flopping around. He hated haircuts and now, he looked ridiculous with long bangs and messy bed hair. Complete with a pair of glasses that made him look very intelligent and dark hazel eyes, it was a surprise to know that he was still single. I thought everyone loved nerdy potential billionaires, but I guess I was wrong. Still, Ade was too cute not to love. Not that I loved Ade- okay, let's stop right there.

Ade turned around and walked away. A few steps later, he promptly turned back around and came to me again, a questioning look on his face. "Florence, the NYU tour is tonight for incoming freshman. Do you want me to show you around? There's going to be an after party at my frat house. If you want, I can take you around the sororities too. It's at 8 and I can pick you up."

My mood instantly brightened. "Sure. But I'm not going to join any sororities. Greek life is definitely not for me."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" I repeated in disbelief. "Have you never watched a teenage slasher film? Half of the murders happen because a bunch of hoity-toity girls accidentally killed their friend five years ago and then the friend comes back to exact her revenge. Sweetheart, I watched Sorority Row. I'm not messing with things like that. Same goes for cabins in the middle of nowhere."

"Okay, first of all-" Ade stared at me in amusement. "You're making generalizations. Greek life isn't as bad as the movies make it seem. And also, I have never ever ever in my life ever heard someone use the words 'hoity toity' in a sentence."

I stared at him until he finally gave up and sighed. "Fine. No sororities. I'll pick you up at 7:45 tonight."

"I love you."

Ade sighed once more and left after giving me a sad little pat on my shoulder. I watched his retreating back, thinking of places I'd go if I had the ability to fly. I was also thinking about chicken nuggets, but that's not important. What's important is that the guy slurping his coffee was waving to me to come over. Trying to pretend like I didn't see him, I ducked behind the counter to rearrange the cups sitting on the shelf.

Clancy, a short and stout woman of forty and my second best friend, thankfully took over his table after giving me a disapproving look. When she came back, I grinned at her from my hiding place at the floor and gave her a thumbs up.

"Oh, Florence." She sighed.

"Oh, Clancy." I sighed back.

"You can't avoid everyone you don't like." Clancy said. "All he wanted was another cup of coffee."

"I love you, Clancy."

"You love a lot of people, don't you?" She smiled and began walking back into the kitchen. I followed after her, finding nothing else to do. Espresso House was close to being empty. Business in here was like a rock. The steeper the hill was, the faster the rock would travel in a downhill spiral until we eventually hit rock bottom, and not the Dwayne Johnson kind either.

"Why does no one ever say 'I love you' back to me?" I questioned sulkily as Clancy began stacking plates and cups into the big dishwasher. Picking at a crack on the marble countertop, I waited for her response.

"Because love is a mutual thing, sweetheart."

I frowned. "Are you saying you don't love me?"

"Florence, I'm saying that you need to go out and bus out some tables. We still have a few customers out there, you know. Your mother is going to be here soon, and I don't want her to do the work you were supposed to. Lord knows that lady has enough on her plate already. She's been worried sick."

I stopped, my fingers frozen from chipping away at the marble even more. A slight twist of unease clenched my stomach into knots, ones that I tried to loosen before speaking again. "What do you mean?"

"Well-" Clancy finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on, talking with her back towards me. "-have you ever heard of the Brooklyn Crowns?"

"No." I frowned at my reflection from the shiny marble. Clancy wiped her hands on her favourite rag (it was pink with little red hearts all over) and leaned against the countertop. The dishwasher built up a steady hum in the background. "Is that some kind of baseball team or something?"

Clancy chuckled. "Farthest thing from it, Florence. The Brooklyn Crowns are a mafia. They had some ties to the Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian mafia. They were born and raised in Brooklyn, obviously. Real dangerous. I don't know their names or anything. I just heard about them on the news this morning. They're apparently some type of big name crime bosses. Got a couple incidents up in Canada last year, when a heroin deal went wrong and three police officers were killed in the shootout."

"What does this have to do with our business?" Worry replaced the unease in my stomach. Gangs and mobsters were nothing new. I mean, this was New York City after all. Criminals staked on every street and crime rates were always high. However, the way Clancy was talking about this subject was throwing me off. She sounded almost...impressed, and if I knew anything about Clancy, it was that she was never impressed by anything. Not even my super long left pinky toe.

She shrugged. "Nothing, hopefully. I just heard they were in the area. They usually stay up north where the cops can't find them. Off the grid for about three years, too. I hope they're not making a comeback. Can you imagine the panic?"

I shook my head no. I could imagine people panicking- just not over a group of dumbass criminals. Not they they were dumb, oh no. I bet they were very smart. Most criminals were. Except for the ones in prison- I'm getting sidetracked, aren't I?

"What did you say their name was?" I rested my cheek against the counter until Clancy made me stand back up. As she pushed me towards the kitchen door and out to the coffee bar again, I picked up a copy of the newspaper on my way out.

"The Brooklyn Crowns." She replied, giving me one final push out the door. "Now go give Table 9 a refill. If you can go the next hour without complaining, I'll buy you a bag of Twizzlers."

"How about two bags, though?"

"Florence-"

"Fine." I sighed. "I guess I'll take three."

"Florence!"