by Rhys Everly
There was no future for someone like me.
Sometimes, I wondered if that was why my mom left me.
Had she known what a loser I was before everyone else? Did she know when she gave birth to me that I was going to be a failure? Could she see it on my face whenever she put me to sleep?
She must have; otherwise, she’d never have left me before I was even old enough to beg her not to. Or to at least take me with her.
I wiped my face and the tears that had managed to push through and tried to put all the negative thoughts in the back of my head, lock them tight and throw away the key.
Because I had a plan. I had a plan now. And this year was the year I would escape this life, my dad, and this stupid town.
I used my phone to calculate how much I needed to run away. I probably did it twice on a daily basis—or more. I couldn’t control anything in life. Especially my life. But the math was always the same. Always gave the same result, by the same process.
And if I kept on saving money, the calculations were even more rewarding.
I got so distracted by my math and my daydreaming that I didn’t notice when we arrived in New Harlow, and I almost missed my stop.
I snatched my backpack and ran out of the bus and onto the university campus.
Of course, I was five minutes late.
I’d have to start taking the earlier bus if I was going to keep this job.
“Hi Hudson. Grab an apron from the back and come join me quick. We’re about to get a big rush,” Natalie said, and I nodded before retreating to the staff room.
I put my backpack down, grabbed a blue apron and wrapped it around my waist, then joined Natalie behind the counter.
“Large cappuccino, large Americano, and a soy latte,” she told me as soon as I stepped in front of the coffee machine, and I had to repeat the order in my head while trying to remember what the difference between a cappuccino and a latte was.
Five minutes later, I gave her the order, and she looked at me with confusion.
“Where is the rest?” she asked
“The rest of what?” I asked.
“The rest of the coffees?” She narrowed her eyes and waited for me to respond, but I had no idea what she was asking. “I’ve been calling out orders to you all this time. Did you just get the first one?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t-didn’t hear you,” I said.
“How could you not hear me? Was I not speaking loud enough?” she huffed. “Now I have to go through the receipts and figure out what we need,” she said.
How was this my fault? It was my second day. I didn’t even know what I was doing. I barely remembered how to make all the coffees even after the week’s training in Virginia Beach last week—which had cost me an arm and a leg, by the way.
Why was she shouting at me? Why did everyone keep shouting at me?
“I’ll-I’ll help,” I said and tried to go through the receipts, but she just slapped my hands away and told me she was fine.
“I’m sorry for the wait, guys. I have to sort through this backlog. Please bear with me. He’s new,” she said with snark.
I looked at the students waiting for their orders who looked back at me with a mix of sympathy and annoyance. Pity. It was called pity.
I wanted to walk out.
I didn’t like the way they were looking at me. I didn’t like the way she was talking to me. But I kept reminding myself that I had to see this through.
This was part of my plan. To get a job and do the job. Prove to myself that I could do it. That I wasn’t completely useless.
I needed this job to save money and get out of Cedarwood Beach, so I did something I wasn’t used to. Grin and bear.
Boy, was it fighting with every urge inside me. Being humiliated and embarrassed. Having to work through it, even though I felt like hurling my guts.
“Right, I need one latte, three soy cappuccinos, five Americanos-no, four Americanos, and a Red-Eye,” she said, and I rushed to get the cups under control.
Was it one latte, three cappuccinos, and five Americanos?
How could making coffee be so fucking hard?
I fumbled with the cups and tried to get the espresso machine to work while my phone was buzzing in my pocket, and I almost screamed. I needed a break and I hadn’t even started yet.
“Leave it,” Natalie snapped at me and grabbed the coffee cups away from my hands. “I’ll make them. You take the orders. Can you do that?” she asked me real slow and real loud.
I am not stupid!
But I couldn’t tell her that, could I?
I managed to ring up the rest of the line, and Natalie whipped up the coffees with a skill I hadn’t seen in my life.
When the rush was over and most students went to their classes, she handed me a grey dish box and told me to clear the floor while she took care of the mess behind the counter.
I looked at what she was referring to.
Milk splatters painted the silver surface of the coffee machine and parts of the counter. Coffee grounds peppered both the floor and the surfaces. The milk jugs were all piled up on the sink in need of a rinse.
“Fine. Sure,” I told her and left the bar mess behind.
It was better this way. If I tried to clean it up, I might screw something up and give her more ammunition.
When Natalie got busy wiping, I pulled my phone out and checked my messages.
There was a message from Damon and I opened it, even though the preview didn’t look promising.
“Hey, dude. I know I promised to tutor you, but I’m swamped. This is my senior year and I really need to focus on my studies, so I don’t have the time to teach you. Sorry and good luck,” it said.
I could dissect the entire message. Like a pro-English student who could tell the author’s meaning in every sentence of a poem.
“I’m swamped” meant I really don’t like being in the same room with you.
“This is my senior year” meant I’m too good for this shit.
“I don’t have the time” meant I don’t want to make the time.
“I don’t have the time to teach you” meant you are unteachable.
“Sorry” meant oops, how did I get myself signed up for your shit.
And of course, “good luck” was good luck to your next tutor.
He wouldn’t be the first guy to drop me. The guys were intimidated by me, the girls were intimidated by me. And, of course, there was my low intelligence that probably rang alarm bells, causing them to think if I didn’t pass, I’d murder them or something.
I didn’t know what it was.
I thought getting someone from New Harlow where no one knew me or my past would help, but I guessed not. Maybe there was something about my face.
I growled and shoved the phone back in my pocket, scaring a couple of patrons. I tried to apologize, but instead, they got up and left as if to prove me right.
I spent the rest of my shift trying to figure out what to do about my classes. My plan relied on having a job. And a tutor.
Everything was going wrong today. What had I done to deserve all this?
Never mind. I knew what I’d done.
I walked outside to clear the tables when I came across him.
Nathan.
He’d always been good looking. And beautiful. And his eyes, those beautiful, blue eyes that haunted my dreams even to this day were so kind.
Kinder than I deserved.
Kinder than probably anyone deserved.
And that guy he was with was probably his boyfriend. Just like I’d dreamt of being so many times over the years, even if I hadn’t always had the name for it.
Of course he snapped at me. Of course he was angry with me. Of course he hated me.
I wanted to apologize. I wanted to get on my knees and ask for his forgiveness. Ask to be his friend again, even though it was something we hadn’t been in a very long time.
But how could I?
I’d spent the better part of fou
r years intimidating him. Or letting Derek intimidate him.
The boat on our friendship had sailed a long time ago.
But the apology? That I could do something about.
During my break, I looked inside my backpack and pulled the reunion envelope I’d received in the mail yesterday.
Frankly, I didn’t think they’d remember my invitation. Why would they invite me when I didn’t even graduate? Or more to the point, why would they invite me when they all thought I was guilty?
Was there a chance Nathan would be there?
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t have the guts to face everyone. But if there was a chance he’d be there, then I’d go, just so I could apologize to him.
I could of course try and find him on campus again and avoid the emotional scarring of the reunion, but there was a part of me that hoped seeing me after all this time would make Derek fess up and absolve me of all responsibility.
Fat chance of that happening. But if there was even a slim chance, then I wanted Nathan to hear it.
I needed to find a suit.
Great. More money to spend.
But for this one, for Nathan, it’d be worth it.
Three
Nathan
Seeing Hudson again after all this time definitely put me in a strange, inexplicable mood for the rest of the day.
The sort of mood when you can’t take your mind off someone because you haven’t seen your best friend in forever and you want to catch up with everything that’s happened to them.
I shouldn’t be feeling like that.
Because between the years of friendship were the years of resentment.
And those couldn’t be erased or healed with time.
I’d run all the way to New Harlow the first opportunity I got to get away from that bullshit.
And I’d been successful for three years now. Of course, it all had to go belly up my senior year of college.
Of course, out of the entire city, he had to get a job at the campus café.
“Forget about him,” Kyle said, waving toward Hudson’s direction even though he was nowhere near us anymore, as if that could erase his existence or our encounter.
“Easier said than done,” I said.
“Come on, Nathan. You’re a smart dude. Go all zen and forget about the douche bag. You’ve got far more important things to worry about. Like what we’re going to wear for your reunion party.”
“Can we not start this conversation again, please? I’ve got far more important things to worry about.”
Kyle gasped. “What could be more important than a party and nice clothes?”
I shook my head at him and took a sip of my drink.
The drink Hudson almost snatched away from us even though it wasn’t even done.
Snatched with those big hands that belonged to those big biceps.
Fuck! What am I doing?
Was I really going to sit here and daydream about Hudson’s body when I hated his guts?
“Like finding more people to tutor. I need to refill the fund,” I said.
“Of course. How could I forget about ‘the fund?’” Kyle rolled his eyes as he air-quoted the last words.
“Hey, don’t shit on my dreams. I don’t shit on yours,” I said, even though I knew he wasn’t.
Unlike my friendship with Hudson, Kyle and I respected each other, even if we continually teased one another.
“I don’t have any dreams to shit on, anyway,” Kyle mocked and sucked on his straw.
“Yeah, you do. You’re gonna be the events planner at my brewery,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,” he replied with nonchalance. “And what am I gonna do until I’m forty?”
I kicked him on the knee, and he cried foul play.
“Do you even know what foul play is?” I asked him.
Kyle was extremely clueless in anything sports related. Unless it included pom-poms, in which case he was an expert.
“I know I’ll foul play you if you do that again, dildo,” he said, rubbing his knee.
He was such a drama queen. My shoe barely touched him, but he was gonna milk this moment until I agreed to do his bidding for one thing or the other.
“You’re taking me out for dinner tonight. You know. As payback,” he said, proving my point.
“Fine,” I said. “I’m gonna go pin flyers. Will you help?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Nerd.”
I grabbed my backpack off the table and unzipped it to pull out the flyers that I had printed this morning.
“I’ll take the community boards, and you can take the outlets.”
Kyle grabbed the flyers but raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Would assigning me the outlets have anything to do with the hunk working in Espresso Blues by any chance?”
I pursed my lips and glared at him. “Uhm, duh, Sherlock. Such a clever boy you are.” I patted his head for good measure.
“I’m not doing it. You take the outlets, and I’ll take the community boards,” he said.
“Come on, dude,” I said. “I don’t want to see him again.”
Kyle crossed his hands.
“And that’s exactly why you need to. This is your college. This is your café. You need to stand your ground. Claim your territory,” he replied.
“I’d rather piss around that tree than go inside,” I said, and Kyle slapped my arm.
“I’m being serious. You let him intimidate you for what? Four years? Don’t let him do the same now. It’s your senior year, dude. Show him who’s boss. Show him you aren’t scared of him anymore.”
“I am a little bit,” I said, scratching my head. Kyle gave me a frustrated glare. “What? Have you seen his size?”
Kyle flicked my head.
“Size doesn’t matter,” he said, but quickly rushed to correct himself. “In this situation, of course.”
“Fine. I’ll do it. But you’re no longer my best friend.”
“I can live with that,” he said and marched away from me.
“Well, good!” I shouted at his retreating back.
He flipped me the bird but didn’t turn to look at me again.
There were plenty of restaurants and places on campus that I could go and pin the flyers. I didn’t really need to pin anything in Espresso Blues.
But Kyle was right.
I shouldn’t let Hudson win. He got to win in high school. I wouldn’t let him win here, on my turf.
And I knew I didn’t own the campus, but it still felt like he was intruding in my space.
He had no right to start working here. This was the best coffeeshop on and off campus, and I refused to change cafés because of him.
First world problems, of course, but still…
Just like Kyle said, I shouldn’t let him ruin my senior year.
So I marched my determined ass back into Espresso Blues and scanned the place as soon as I entered.
There he was, in the corner across the café, picking up empty cups. Before I could talk myself out of it, I approached him, making sure to straighten my shoulders and stand up straight.
Better get this crap out of the way first, let him know who was who around Harlow U and that I wasn’t going to be intimidated by him.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” I asked him.
He turned around with the box in his hands, looking startled.
“Uhm… collecting empties,” he said.
I shook my head.
“No, smartass. I mean what are you doing here?” I waved my hand around us to help him get the point.
“I work here,” he said, matter-of-factly.
I bit my lip before I lost my shit and took a deep breath. The grey of his eyes had me paralyzed without even knowing it.
Had he always had such a charming glow around his face, or had it really been that long since I’d got laid.
“What are you doing in New Harlow?” I said, trying to shake off the stupid horny teenager that seemed to have taken ove
r my body. “You don’t live here. You don’t go to school here. So what the hell? Are you following me? Why? Wasn’t ruining high school enough?”
No one had said I was still acting logically. In fact, logic had jumped out of the window as soon as I saw him after all this time.
Hudson took a deep breath that made his chest even bigger and intimidating. And so damn irresistible.
For fuck’s sake, Nathan. This ass used to be your bully. And your best friend.
“You don’t own New Harlow, dude. So, relax. I got a job here and that’s that. I’m not following you. I’m not a stalker. Otherwise, I would have started working here three years ago,” he said.
Sure. It made sense when he put it that way. But who cared about reason at that moment?
“Can’t you get a job somewhere else? I’d rather not see your face every single day,” I said.
I knew I was being irrational—and rude—but this guy had put me through hell. After betraying me. And both the betrayal and what ensued after still hurt like it had happened yesterday.
We’d been like twins since we’d met in first grade. I didn’t even know why now, but we’d become inseparable almost from day one.
Which was why I thought I had an ally in him. And I wanted to start high school being completely honest with him.
But what happened when I came out to him?
He decided he was too cool to be my friend and too homophobic to hang out with the gay kid.
And as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to use everything I ever told him, everything we’d been through together as friends, against me and share that information with fucking Derek who, in turn, used it as ammunition to attack me every chance he got.
And then, of course, there was the prom.
If I didn’t see his face for the rest of my life, I’d be content. Even if I couldn’t stop looking at said face at the moment.
“Nathan, I’m—” he started to say and took a step closer to me.
“Getting on my nerves? Yes, yes you are,” I said.
I took a deep breath and to tried to go all zen like Kyle had suggested even though it was fucking hard.
“I was gonna say—”
“I don’t care what you were gonna say. I can’t stand looking at you.” That was a partial lie. “This is my college. My café. You have no right to be here.”
