Page 24 of Talk to Me

“Theo cared. I care,” I said. “You could at least say you’re sorry, you know.”

Collin slung the laundry bag over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry!” he squealed.

He stomped towards the door, the bag swinging against his back as he made his way out of the dorm. As he opened the door, he turned for a parting shot.

“That you and Theo are so fucking sensitive!”

Then he was gone, and I was left frowning at the closed door.

The rest of the afternoon, I did my best to focus on my studies. No matter how many times Collin came in and out of our room during his laundry tasks, we didn’t speak. We didn’t even look in each other’s direction. I studied, he did his laundry, folded it, and put it away. Then he studied. When I went to dinner, I didn’t ask him to go with me to the dining hall. When I came back, he went. Each moment of the evening was spent ignoring and avoiding each other.

When I was in bed that night, the sound of Collin snoring softly on the other side of the room, I turned towards the wall and pulled out my phone. I found myself scrolling through Peepers. Eventually, I ended up on Theo’s account, rewatching several of the videos he’d made with animals. For the first time in several hours, I found myself smiling.

Before I could think about it too much, I clicked on the messaging function on Peepers and shot one off to Theo.

You should make more animal videos. They’re a lot of fun.

Then I locked my phone, put it away, and drifted off to sleep.

Campus was abuzz with a “breaking development” on Monday. Well, the development wasn’t all that shocking to anyone who actually took the time to read signs. Midway Roasters was reopened and the students of Midway would no longer have to do back-alley dealings to get their daily coffee fix. No more would we have to trek off campus to the gas station for subpar vanilla lattes from questionable machines that hadn’t been cleaned in God knows when. No longer would we have to buy the mass-produced bottled cold brew in the dining hall.

None of us would have to use our contraband drip coffee machines in our dorms that could get us in trouble if the resident advisors got finicky. French presses in dorms were no longer necessary. They were inefficient anyway, since water hot enough to use them required electric kettles. Which were also verboten. Microwaving water never got the water to the exact temperature, so morning coffee making was simply a headache for students.

I assumed that the resident advisors had been looking the other way in regards to electric kettles and coffee machines the first two weeks of school. Since Midway Roasters had been closed, they’d realized that we had to get our coffee fix somewhere. However, now that the coffee shop was ready for business, a crackdown was likely to come. Fortunately, I had neither a coffee machine, nor an electric kettle. I’d been surviving on bottled cold brew, like a rule-abiding, studious geek.

Needless to say, Midway Roasters was completely packed Monday morning. When I’d heard the news of their reopening in the hallway of the dorms on my way to shower that morning, I decided I’d have to swing by on the way to class. However, when I arrived, the inside looked like a nightclub and the line was out the door and down the walkway. A short walk to the dining hall, and I was once again sipping cold brew from a bottle.

When I breezed by the student bookstore and Midway Roasters minutes later, the line had barely moved. I glanced inside out of curiosity and saw that the renovations and deep cleaning had been beneficial, but still not sufficient for the campus population. More baristas were working than our previous year, there were more espresso machines, and two cashiers were working in tandem. There’d simply never be a big enough coffee shop and enough workers to attend to all of the caffeine needs of students first thing in the morning.

Right then and there, I decided that my first coffee of the day would be a bottled cold brew from the dining hall, or instant coffee made with microwave water. It wasn’t ideal, but standing in line for thirty minutes or more and risking being late to classes simply didn’t work for me.

My first two classes of the day seemed to be missing a handful of students each. Though I had no way of knowing for certain, I was sure the absenteeism was up due to the line at Midway Roasters. It seemed the professors had noticed the phenomenon as well, since they each made coffee jokes at the start of class. That was before they thanked those of us that showed up for class on time.

Whether or not there would be repercussions for students who chose coffee over learning, I couldn’t say. However, most of the professors seemed to find the humor in the situation, thus were likely to forgive everyone. At least on Monday. If it became a trend, there would certainly be some type of crackdown across campus. I hoped my fellow students didn’t cause Administration to do something crazy, like limit the hours of operation at Midway Roasters, and ruin it for everyone.

Fortunately, when I walked by the coffee shop on my way to the dining hall for lunch after my last class, the line was nonexistent. It appeared that the coffee shop staff were reorganizing and cleaning the shop after the first day’s rush. A handful of students sat at the café tables and sipped coffees and talked, but everything seemed under control for the first time. I made a mental note to stop by later for a real coffee. I simply couldn’t wait until day two to get my fix.

I had skipped breakfast, subsisting solely on cold brew and water—and a handful of peanut M&M’s a friend shared with me in class—so a big lunch was in order. After eating a burger and fries, and chugging a Sprite, I went back through the line and got a salad with chicken, a chocolate croissant, and another soda. By the time I left the dining hall, I was dreaming of sitting on my bed and popping the button of my jeans. Letting my gut perform a flabbalanche was all that I wanted.

The thought had me standing in front of the floor-length mirror in my room when I got back to the dorms. I lifted my shirt and inspected my gut, wondering if I’d put on any weight since returning to Midway for the fall. I’d never been the type of guy to have abs, but summers at home, performing manual labor, always had me returning to school lean, and maybe even a bit wiry. Of course, it was ridiculous to think I’d undone an entire summer of hard work in ten days back at school, but I had to check to be sure.

I definitely still didn’t have abs, but my stomach wasn’t flat, either. Lunch had given me a food baby, and the bloating made me want to crawl into bed and wait for it to pass.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to obsess over my weight or my body. However, it’s always good to check in on whether or not we’re being good to ourselves. I definitely hadn’t been making the best food and drink choices since getting back to school. I couldn’t eat and drink like I did at home because the opportunities for hard work were limited at Midway.

As I stepped away from the mirror, letting my shirt drop, I made a mental note to visit the university gym at least a couple times a week for the rest of the year. Or, at least, walk more. Especially since I was not going to skip my coffee treat later that day. I peeled my jeans off and pulled on some basketball shorts. I pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it into my laundry bag with my jeans. Then, against my nature, I climbed into my bed for an after-class nap.

When I awoke two hours later, my hair was a mess, my eyes felt crusted over, and I barely recognized where I was. However, the bloated feeling in my gut was gone, so I could deal with dry eyes and messy hair. I made my way down to the bathrooms and sorted myself out, then returned to my room. I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen Collin since that morning, and if he had returned to our room, I had slept through it. Currently, he was nowhere to be found.

I applied fresh deodorant and a spritz of what my mother called “stink pretty,” and found a fresh t-shirt to wear. I grabbed my lanyard and wallet and left the dorms, headed to the parking lot. As was typical for Mondays, I made my trip to Spice House and hung out with Arthur for a few hours. By the time I left, the sun was setting, and coffee was calling my name.

Midway Roasters was going to be my first stop. Going by the dorms first wasn’t even an option. All of the coffee drinks I could order spun through my head as I parked my car in the lot and made my way across campus on foot. The responsible side of me said I should get a French press or drip coffee and add a little cream and sweetener. However, the side of me that longed for decadence was dreaming of a blended coffee drink that was more dessert than beverage.

Luck was on my side, because when I walked up to Midway Roasters, there were a few students in line, but it wasn’t crazy. I assumed that since it was the dinner hour, most of the student population was in the dining hall. Several of the café tables were occupied by students, but waiting for a coffee wasn’t going to be an ordeal.

Quickly, I got in line and made my decision. I wouldn’t be completely responsible with my coffee order, but I wouldn’t order what was, essentially, a milkshake. When I got to the check-out counter, I told the overly excited cashier that I wanted a café mocha, lactose-free milk, no whip, with extra chocolate drizzle. Balance. After paying, I waited patiently for my name to be called.