“You know, even if you were into mullets, the way that guy was fondling those apples…” Delaney shudders.
“Right? They did not consent to that grope fest that’s for sure,” I add. Delaney bursts into a fit of laughter and I follow along, all the way to her front door. My smile only falters when she opens her phone back up and looks all dopey-eyed. Delaney is a love sick puppy from a few texts and a GIF her girlfriend sent.
“How did you manage to get into such a wonderful relationship while studying full time?” I ask with a huff, a small academic to-do list flipping over in my head.
“I have no idea. It must have been fate because my parents wanted me to marry our rabbi,” Delaney says, throwing her purse down onto her entrance table, the top of which is a bedazzled world map. I raise my eyebrows in amused shock at this new information.
“Yes,” she adds with a laugh. “I had the same expression. To which I told them: One, I’m not as Jewish as they are, so being a rabbi’s wife wouldn’t be a fitting role for me. And two, he has a penis.”
I choke on air, reeling at the sight it must have been to see Isaac and Mara Beatty realize their daughter was a lesbian. And basically agnostic.
“My bubbe almost fainted while my parents scrambled to find words to punish my lack of Judaism while simultaneously supporting my lesbianism.” Delaney shrugs.
“And?” I press.
“Andthey bought me this rainbow Star of David.” She smiles and pulls the necklace out from under her t-shirt. A smaller silver Star of David hangs on a plain silver chain, the symbol encrusted with colourful gemstones in rainbow order. “That was a long time ago though, so it wasn’t quite the same reaction as when I told them about Ellie. They were more concerned with it being a long-distance thing than anything,” Delaney says, pulling her phone out again at the endless chirps and dings.
I’m over the moon happy for my best friend, she truly deserves the universe. However, it’s hard not to feel that pang of jealousy bury itself deep in my gut like a miniature green monster carving up my insides and passing notes to my brain like elementary school children, all with one thought in mind:You don’t have that. I exhale slowly and settle on to the comfy sofa. I don’t think Delaney could hear my melancholy anyway. Her fingers fly across the screen of her phone with the soundon. Every clickety clack of a button pressed chiming in my lizard brain.
Tap, tap, tap…
Must…find…love
Tap, tap, tap…
I quickly reach for the remote, turning on a nineties cartoon Delaney always has on hand and try desperately to mute my envious inner monologue. It’s not like I’m a hideous specimen doomed for an eternity of loneliness. It’s just the time spent actuallydating,well, hasn’t happened. I’ve focused so hard, for so long on my academics that my love life is D.O.A. and my social life has nearly flatlined. Delaney is my saving grace in that sense. She pushes me out of my pre-med focused bubble and drags me to events every now and then. By the end of the night, without fail, I’m always happy I’m out. I just need that push. My mind reels back to the essay question that I can’t seem to wrap my head around.
How have you tested your decision to become a doctor through your personal life?
Truthfully, I haven’t. I’ve been head down, nose in the books basically all my life. This year is definitelynotthe time to be looking for love. Dating experiment? Sure. It has conclusions, boundaries, a purpose! This experiment will help me answer that goddamn med-school application question that’s been nagging my brain since the first moment I read it. This year counts more than ever for my future medical career thus far, so my focus should be purely academic. My classes combined with tutoring, and being a TA has my schedule overcrowded as is. Now isn’t my time to fall inlove. Perhaps after medical school. Besides, I don’t needa man. What I deserve is that fairy tale, swoon-worthy, can’t-get-enough-of-them kind of love. Anything less and it’s not for me. For now, I’m absolutely fine by myself. If there happens to besomeone who not only exceeds myexpectations but also crosses every item off The List and makes himself available to me? Well, then maybe I could pencil him in. Without Delaney dragging me to that grocery store, it’s hard to visualize putting myself out there in any capacity. At least, not without a plan. I settle into the couch with a renewed sense of purpose, now is not the time for love but it is the time to funnel that effort into my experiment. Let the dating trials begin.
TWO
Espresso
Dominic
“Can I get an extra-large,extra hot, triple espresso, with four pumps of sugar-free caramel syrup, three pumps of sugar-free hazelnut syrup, three stevia packets, sweet cream cold foam on top and…caramel drizzle?”
It takes me a beat to run that order back through my brain. Memorization has always come fairly easily to me however this particular order, by this particular student, has me befuddled.
The bleach blonde stands in front of my register impatiently, smacking her gum and clicking her enormous acrylic nails on the chain of her purse, staring at me from under her enormous fake eyelashes. She is a living breathing Barbie come to life, with her outrageously small waist on display paired with a mini skirt and chunky knee-high boots. She’s a Barbie doll alright, and onethat runs strictly off espressos and sugar apparently. This whole ordeal is making me lose faith in humanity.
I dog-ear the book I’m currently reading, snapping it closed while watching with delight as I see a glimmer of annoyance flare in Espresso Barbie’s eyes before I stuff it under the coffee bar. I can’t help the way my brows furrow at this girl who just paraded the most ridiculous order I’ve ever heard into Biblio & Brew.
“So you want all that caffeine, sugar-free syrups…but then sugar in it?” I question, watching her brows stitch together in confusion before it turns into a flash of anger.
“Um, like, yes. I don’t want all those calories!” she screeches at me while waving an enormous acrylic nail in my face, “Just do your job.” She rolls her eyes in annoyance and takes a seat at the cafe table nearest the coffee bar. I don’t bother asking her name for the order, it’s clear she’s scrutinizing my ineptitude with a keen eye. She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows at me expectantly. I snort and shake my head, turning to get started on the most obnoxious drink order I think I’ve ever received.
As Espresso Barbie clacks her nails away on her phone, I run through all the ways I could politely scare her away from any further interaction when the bell above the door chimes. I drop off the cup of diabetic coma as quickly as I can and get back to the coffee bar to clean up. I make my usual order, a simple black coffee, before methodically wiping down the espresso machine. I quickly glance up to see if any customers need my assistance when I notice the person that must have just come in. Every ounce of annoyance at Espresso Barbie drains from my limbs as I focus on this woman. Maybe it’s the way that the sun is shining in from behind her causing this glow around her frame, or the light breeze that tugs at the strands of her hair gently from someone else walking through the door, but she’s utterly captivating. Her golden hair is full, cascading in a soft wave justpast the collar of her dress. Her plush lips are perfectly glossed as they pull into a small smile before she disappears down a row of bookshelves. I blink several times then turn. Something must have come over me because it feels as if I don’t force my eyes away, I’ll want to stare at her forever.
I begin cleaning the rest of the bar, putting away creams, tidying napkins, serving the few student customers that frequent this new cafe, trying and failing to regain my nonchalant composure that comes with the broody barista title. The university received a sizeable donation a few years back and decided to invest in a cafe and bookstore. I was lucky enough to snag a job because my landlord’s brother helped with the orchestration of this cozy space. Even though I do get paid to make some of the most disgusting caffeinated drinks I’ve ever heard of, I really do love it here. Late May is fairly quiet with students off campus and the new summer sun beginning to thaw our Canadian soil. The university heads agreed that late spring would be a good time to open as there would be less traffic and they could work out all the kinks before the arrival of new students in the fall. It also means less work for me and more opportunity to read some of the many new additions added to the stacks here. My only coworker, Dazey, said they wanted someone who fit the standard “I don’t actually care to be here” manner, and apparently I fill that position well.
Except, I do care, even if I don’t show it. My favourite parts are the reading nooks built into every corner between the bookshelves. Sometimes when I’m done my shift, I’ll grab one of the new releases off the shelf and dive in somewhere around here. My latest pick, by an indie author—something Parker—sits just under this coffee counter. The dog eared edges poke out, tempting me to pick up where I left off. It’s her debut novel and so far, it’s very good. As I open it back up, I hear someone clear their throat. I glance up to meet sky blue eyes and golden hair.
“Hi.” Her voice comes out smooth and cool like cream added to an espresso. I move to put my book away when she adds, “Don’t let me stop you from a good book.” A smile tugs at the edges of her full lips. It takes considerable effort to pull my gaze from them.
I clear my throat, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. You snuck up on me like an owl; silent and observing.” I notice her bright blue eyes follow the slight uptick of my mouth at one corner.
