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Instead, I pocketed my phone, a glutton for punishment when I pulled it out again. A second text buzzed against my leg.
I know you don’t want to, but I think it’s time we explore our other options.
Numbness hit me again, illness. My stomach clenched, and I thought I’d be sick, but I breathed through it.
I wasn’t trying to deal with reality right now, so instead of texting back, I just put my earbud back in. My music playing, I tried to drown out the sound of thoughts and bullshit with heavy metal. I circulated between that and hip hop, and I thought it did the job I needed it to until I escaped the harbor and ended up in front of a coffee shop. We had that chain back home, back at college.
Wetting my lips, I went inside, and I had no idea what I was doing. I just knew I was heading up to the register, and the next thing I knew, I had a coffee.
I didn’t even drink coffee.
I hadn’t for a while, but the drink in my hand I knew all too well. A blond espresso latte with oat milk and heavy foam. And sweet.
So sweet.
I’d joked with Red she’d rot her teeth out with this shit. She used to order one when we had our coffee dates. They were things we’d staged to look like a couple, mandatory…
“Anything else, sir?” the barista asked me. She was giving me the fuck-me eyes, but I hadn’t even noticed until directly spoken to. I didn’t notice those things anymore.
Not for a long time.
I told her no then mentally dismissed her, not knowing what I was doing when I headed over to the milks and sugar area next. I added extra sugar. Red liked sugar.
What are you doing?
I knew what. I was ordering a girl her favorite coffee when I was the one who created a clear boundary. I was the one who wanted nothing to do with her.
Also me, adding more sugar to an already sugar-laden drink. Red always did that, adding sugar on top of sugar.
Stop.
I didn’t, suddenly determined to make it perfect. I’d had a shit morning, shit texts, and adding sugar to this damn coffee right now was the only thing that was making me feel less like shit. It was making me feel.
Numb.
I wanted to feel nothing. Fuck had I wanted to, but everything inside me was pulling at me to get this drink right and get it to her. I didn’t know what I’d say once I did, and she probably wouldn’t even open the door for me.
I wasn’t caring at this point, but glanced up when someone called my name. No one should be calling my name. I didn’t know anyone here.
“Eh. Got enough sugar there?”
My brother, Bru, had a coffee in his hands and a sweatshirt on. It was a gag gift with a tipsy elf on it and eggnog in his hands. My mom had gotten all us kids one a couple Christmases ago, but none of us wore them outside of Christmas Day.
My brother would, probably to make her happy. He was the perfect son my parents had finally gotten. I wasn’t perfect, far from it. Bru cocked his head. “Bro?”
I added too much sugar, ruined it. Even still, I passed it off. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He got close, but when he did, I gazed over his head. It was easy to do considering I had height over him and like everyone else besides my father. I hadn’t been looking for anyone, but I wasn’t surprised to see he wasn’t alone.
That he was with her.
Fawn had her camera in her hands, wearing a sweatshirt too but not Christmas-related. She wasn’t into that corny shit, and she still wore those ripped-up jeans. The ones that showed off her tats and had me gripping this damn coffee.
What do you know? You do feel something.
I did and fuck me for it. Fuck. Me. I had no right.
None.
