Jour­ney to Star­bucks

The Hamilton Spectator - - HEALTH - BY ABI­GAIL KNOX, GRADE 8

It was mid-sum­mer and the sun was smol­der­ing. The sun­light beat­ing on my face, I be­gan to feel a thirst. A unique kind of thirst. The kind of mouth-wa­ter­ing thirst that can only be quenched by STAR­BUCKS! I sug­gested my bright idea to my brother, Cole. The idea of a drink piqued his in­ter­est, but the walk, not so much. He sug­gested rid­ing his bike to the shop. When I turned him down he com­plained, rolling his eyes. But when I let him know he wouldn’t be re­ceiv­ing a drink from me he shut his mouth and started walk­ing.

We set off on our ad­ven­ture and in­stantly re­al­ized just how scorch­ing hot it was. Within the first five min­utes, our fore­heads were gleam­ing in the swel­ter­ing sun from sweat. But still, we trekked with the thirst-quench­ing thought of frap­puc­ci­nos still in mind. Skip to halfway through and the walk in the crip­pling heat was tak­ing longer than ex­pected. Cole started com­plain­ing again (does he ever stop?). But I at­tempted to plug my ears and tried to march on.

About three quar­ters of the way there we saw a light in the dis­tance. Be­fore us was an ever­green Dol­larama con­tain­ing sweet, sweet air con­di­tion­ing. Red-cheeked and sweaty we sprinted to the cool store. We stepped into the shop, faint from the sun and nearly col­lapsed from the heav­enly re­lease from heat. Af­ter brows­ing the store for ten min­utes we stepped back into the sun, still crav­ing sug­ary frappes.

Walk­ing across the park­ing lot I could al­most taste my bev­er­age in my mouth. We stepped into the empty Star­bucks to joy­ous air con­di­tion­ing once again. I walked up to the counter and spoke the words that had been wait­ing on my lips the whole walk. “S’mores Frap­puc­cino please.”

“To­gether at last,” I mum­bled to my­self as I clasped the drink marked with my name. The first taste of caf­feinated sweet­ness was the best. It felt like crawl­ing un­der a cozy blan­ket on a chilly night.

We ex­ited the empty café, our warm hands melt­ing our frozen s’mores drinks. Our frosty frap­puc­ci­nos cooled us, mak­ing time go by faster as we walked back where we had just come from. I was home and fin­ished my heaven-of-a-drink in no time, with Cole trail­ing be­hind me. That drink on that boil­ing sum­mer day was truly the most blissful thing I have ever tasted.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada

© PressReader. All rights reserved.