His mood matched the weather, cloudy and dark and
cold. His eyes were fixed on the sidewalk as he sulked, wanting no interaction
with another human. He wore a black jacket to fend off the wind and carried an
umbrella in his hand.
He pushed open the door of the coffee shop and
stepped inside. The bell above the door jingled and the horrible banjo music of
Mumford and Sons sounded in his ears.
How he hated this place. It was always filled with
young people imitating individuals. The guys wore undersized pants and
undersized cardigans. The girls wore oversized shirts and oversized glasses.
Damn hipsters.
He could only stand them long enough to buy his
coffee. It was stout, and it was hot, and it was his daily routine at 5:28 p.m.
He finally got to the front of the line and ordered.
The worker recognized him from his daily visit, but
he didn’t know his name. He knew his order, though, and he knew that today he
would be more unhappy than usual.
“I’m sorry, but we’re out of the house coffee. Our
supply truck is caught in the storm. Can I get you something else, bro?”
Bro. He hated that, too. Every damn hipster in this
place called him bro. They would smile. He would scowl.
“That’s impossible. This is a coffee shop. You must
have coffee.”
“I’m sorry, bro. We’re out today.”
He grit his teeth and tried to come up with a
fitting insult. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a voice came
from behind him.
“Try the chai latte. They’re great. I get one every
day.”
He turned to see where the voice came from and saw
a girl seated at a table near the line. She had brown hair and brown eyes and an
innocent smile.
He looked back to the kid behind the register and
without thinking, smirked and said, “Chai latte, please.”
Stunned that he ordered something new, stunned that
he said please, and stunned most of all that he smiled, the worker jumped to
action and fixed the drink. She laughed at her table. It was a nice laugh, not
filled with squeaks or snorts, but simply joy. He turned back to her.
“What’s so funny?”
“I see you every day and never once have they been
so eager to serve you.”
He had never noticed her.
“Usually, they cuss you as soon as you leave for
being cheap and awful,” she said.
The worker blushed with embarrassment.
“And do you think I’m cheap and awful?” he asked
the girl.
“I find you quite weird and interesting,” she
replied.
The worker handed him his chai latte and he sat
down at the girl’s table.
“How can you say that?” he asked. “You’ve never
spoken to me before.”
“Oh, believe me. I’ve tried. You detest everyone
and everything so much, though, you’ve never noticed.”
Now, it was his turn to blush with embarrassment.
How he had always missed such a beautiful girl was a mystery.
She continued to talk and he listened intently. She
asked him questions and he responded. He told her his name and she did the
same. He didn’t even notice the other people in the shop or the awful music
being piped through the speakers. He was only fixated on her.
She wore a white shirt and brightly colored pants
with a brightly colored pea coat. None of them were oversized. She was funny.
When she smiled, she beamed. Her charm was irresistible.
His usual gloominess was gone. The scowl was
replaced with a grin and he let himself laugh. It had been so long since he’d
felt like this, young and hopeful and happy.
The worker finally came over and told them the shop
was closing. He hadn’t noticed the time slipping away. He smiled at the worker
and for the first time, left a tip on the table.
As they got to the door, the sky finally opened and
let loose a tremendous rain.
“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “I walked today. I’m going
to be soaked!”
He just grinned again and flashed his umbrella.
“Let me walk you home.”
When they stepped through the door, he popped the
umbrella open above them and she put her arm around his waist walking closely
at his side. They dodged puddles as the drops continued to fall. She was giving
the directions, but he knew this must be the long way home.
Finally, they arrived at an apartment building and
she said it was hers. He didn’t want the walk to end. Somehow, it wasn’t long
enough. By the sound of her voice, she wasn’t ready either, and she didn’t let
him go.
He looked into her face again and she looked back.
“How did you get that bruise?” he asked, nodding
towards the mark on her forehead.
She smiled and shook her head. “My night stand.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
“Hey! It really hurts!” she said as she jokingly slapped
his chest.
He pulled her closer and stared into her eyes. Her
heart beat faster and his breaths were shortened. He dropped the umbrella as he
kissed her and the rain soaked their skin.
--
©
Blaine Boyd
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