“Gage and I go every year in November. The weekend varies depending on how football plays out, but it’s nice to just get away from a small town and see that there is more out there for us. Plus, being surrounded by all the people, no one recognizing you? It’s nice.”
I see now why Ev likes it. He is like a celebrity here in small-town Aurora, Oregon, but in a big city, nobody knows him. He can be free. But why Gage?
I look back at him, expecting him to add to Ev’s explanation, but he stays glued to his phone.
“Okay, well, what do you do when you go?” My curiosity is piqued. Do they have favorite spots they go to each year, or do theygo somewhere new? Are we going to be walking around or stagnant in a crowded place? I need to know these things. I need to prepare.
“Mostly just walk around, see if we can find any cool spots. Last year, we found this little hole-in-the-wall record store. The year before that, a donut shop that tops all their donuts with food items like bacon, pepperoni, pineapples—it was fucking disgusting but also strangely good.”
“Yeah, except that one with fucking ketchup,” Gage adds from the back.
“God, I fucking hate ketchup.” Ev shakes his head in disgust, and it makes me giggle.
“Well, I guess I don’t hate it. I like it on the appropriate foods—burger, hot dogs, and fries—but people who put ketchup on anything else, like donuts or eggs…fucking aliens, I swear.”
“I put ketchup on my eggs, you dipshit.” Gage’s voice is teasing. He is so guarded, and I’m sure he has his reasons, but it’s still a relief to know that Gage is capable of friendship. Even if it’s with one person. People need people, and with what little I know of Gage, I am happy he has someone. I fear what would happen to him without Everett.
“Exactly my point. Fucking alien.” Ev looks at me and points his thumb back at Gage, who reaches out and smacks it away.
Their antics make me laugh, a genuine laugh that is so very rare in my life that it sounds foreign, strange. I’m self-conscious about it, but when I look at Ev and he is beaming at me, his stupid fucking dimples on full display, I can’t help but feel a little more confident in myself.
The rest of our drive is filled with small talk from Ev and me, an occasional smart-aleck comment from Gage, and rock music. Ev said I was a fraud by not listening to the bands I was sporting on my T-shirts. So we blasted Nirvana and Guns N’ Roses and even AC/DC.
As we enter the city, I am in awe of how many buildings there are and how tall they rise. Pulling into a seven-floor concrete parking garage has my heart beating wildly. My urge to turn and run back to the safety of my quiet town is ever present. And of course, Ev can see it. He can read me so easily, and I hate it sometimes.
Hopping out of his large truck, he comes to my side, opening the door, but I feel frozen. I don’t want to get out. Maybe I’ll just wait here for them. Shit, I never should have come.
He lays his warm hands on my thighs, and I immediately feel more at ease. Soaking up his comfort like a desert flower after a drought.
“Hey, it’s okay. I got you.” He says as he places a soft kiss to my hand.
I stay silent, biting at my lip and picking at the edges of my sleeves. He moves his hands on top of mine, forcing me to stop and look up at him.
“Why don’t we start with coffee? The city is flooded with little coffee shops. We can find the closest one.”
Gage doesn’t even notice me freaking out. He just starts walking in the direction of the bustling street.
“Come on, Leo. Put your big-girl panties on,” he yells back at us.
Okay, maybe he did notice my freak-out. I take a big deep breath in and let it out. Okay, time to do this. I can do this. I have Ev withme, and Gage. Nothing is going to happen. No one is going to even notice me.
As I hold Ev’s hand, probably way tighter than I should, I step out onto the busy street, and people just pass us by. They don’t even look at me. Don’t stare, don’t stop to assess me, don’t even notice me.
Holy cow.
I love the city.
And like Ev said, I can literally see four coffee shops in the near vicinity. Gage has already decided which one we are going to as he walks into a funky little shop with the words HazyDaze Coffee.
I order a black coffee, splash of heavy cream, and dash of cinnamon on top, and so does Ev. Once the coffee is in my hand and I can run my fingers over the lid, the smell invading my nose, a peace washes over me. Washing away the remaining nerves that were overtaking my mind.
“What did you get?” I look over at Gage as he sips his own, quietly just staring out at the gray, cloud-covered sky.
“An Americano.”
Ah yes. Gage does seem like the Americano type. He is bold and reserved. Simple but striking.
As we sit at a table next to the pane-glass window overlooking the busy street, sipping our coffee and people watching, I can’t help but imagine living in a place like this. There is a buzz of commotion and chaos. I feel forgotten about, and for a girl like me, that’s a good thing.
