Home With You

by Everhart, Allie

  "If they had one, would you agree to sit with me while I have my coffee?"

  "Didn't you hear me? They don't have them this late. They run out by noon."

  "But what if they didn't?" I ask, getting an idea. "How about this? If we get to the coffee shop and they still have an apple fritter, will you have coffee with me?"

  She smiles. "Sure, but I guarantee they won't have any."

  "Then you'll be off the hook. You can continue on with your evening."

  "Fine," she says as we arrive at the coffee shop.

  I open the door for her. "Ladies, first."

  "I'll just wait out here. They're not going to have any so it's not even worth going in there."

  I sigh. "Really? You won't even go in?"

  She stands there, which I guess is her answer.

  "Don't leave," I tell her. I race inside, not at all confident she'll be there when I go back out to the street. And from what she said, I'm not confident the place will have any fritters left. I should've made a different deal. One that would ensure we'd get a chance to talk.

  "Excuse me," I say to the girl behind the counter. She has her back to me, putting something away.

  "Hi!" she says, turning toward me. "What can I get you?"

  "Do you happen to have any apple fritters?"

  She smiles. "It's your lucky day! We have one left. We almost never have them this late in the day." She reaches into the bakery case and pulls out the fritter, placing it in a bag. "Anything else?"

  Not sure what kind of coffee to get, I say, "That's it for now. I'll be back in a minute to get the coffee."

  She scrunches up her nose. "Are you sure you don't want to just order it now?"

  "Just the fritter for now."

  She nods and rings it up. I pay her, then race back outside. The girl is gone. What the hell? Did she really leave?

  I look right and left. I don't see her anywhere. Then suddenly she appears from the side of the building. What was she doing there? Hiding from me? If so, she shouldn't hide in an alley. It's not safe.

  "Hey," I say, getting her attention. "You said you'd wait for me."

  "Actually, I didn't." She walks toward me. "You told me to and I decided not to."

  "It was part of the deal."

  "The deal was over before you even went in there. They don't have fritters this late so there was no need for me to stick around."

  "You shouldn't make assumptions."

  "Meaning what?"

  "Meaning you were wrong." I smile.

  "I wasn't wrong," she says defiantly. "I go to this place all the time and I know for a fact they sell out of fritters by noon."

  "Hmm." I take the sack I had hiding behind my back and hand it to her. "Then what's this?"

  She slowly opens the sack. Her eyes widen and her lips part but she doesn't say anything.

  "The girl inside said it was my lucky day." I smile. "She was right. Now how about that coffee?"

  4

  Raine

  I can't believe this. There are never fritters in the case past noon and now it's after seven and they had one left? How is that possible? Did the guy go somewhere else to get it? He couldn't have. He didn't have time. I left him alone for a minute, maybe two. Definitely not enough time to find one somewhere else. And there's nowhere else he could go. Everything around here closes at five except for the coffee shop.

  "After you," he says, holding the door for me.

  I can't go in there. If I do, Shelly, the girl who works the counter, might say something to let this guy know I'm homeless. But who cares if he knows? It shouldn't matter.

  But it does. Because I don't want to be known as the homeless girl. It's not who I am. Not who I want to be. It's only temporary and I'm trying to fix it but until I do, I don't want people like this guy judging me, or worse, running off when he finds out.

  Maybe I wouldn't care so much if it were anyone else, but THIS guy? I don't want him to know I’m homeless. I might have a small, tiny, minuscule crush on him. It's purely physical. I don't even know him so obviously what I'm feeling is simply a physical attraction but it's strong enough that I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since I saw him last night.

  It was his body that first caught my attention. He's tall with big shoulders and muscular arms. Last night he had on a t-shirt that fit close to his body and my eyes immediately went to his muscular chest, then his biceps. Then I glanced up at his face and saw those blue eyes and that dark hair against his tan gorgeous face and had to look away so I wouldn't stare. When I glanced at him again, he smiled and I felt this strange flutter in my stomach. I thought maybe it was from something I ate. When you eat from the trash, you never know what will happen. Food poisoning is always a possibility. But this didn't feel like that. It was more like the excited flutter you feel when you're at the top of the roller coaster, or when you're opening a birthday gift as a kid and you know it's the one you really, really wanted.

  I don't know why I felt that way seeing some stranger smile but it happened, and oddly enough, I felt it again today when he showed up here with that same smile.

  "Are you coming?" he asks, still holding the door. He's giving me that smile and I really wish I was just a normal girl with a normal life because I think I could actually like this guy. His smile seems genuine and he's kind of funny. He even made me laugh. If he asked, I'd probably agree to go out with him, if my situation were different.

  But it's not. My life is a mess that nobody wants to be part of, including me. I need to get it back on track before I even consider dating again.

  "Um, could we just forget the deal?" I hold the sack out to him. "You can have this back."

  "Nope." His smile widens. "A deal's a deal. And I still owe you a coffee. Let's go." He motions me inside.

  Why is he being so insistent? We just met. And he's hot. There are plenty of other girls who'd agree to have coffee with him.

  He'll lose interest in me as soon as he finds out I live on the streets. A hot young lawyer's not going to be interested in a homeless girl.

  As I walk up to the register, Shelly smiles at me. "There's someone in the bathroom. You'll have to wait."

  "That's fine." I strain to smile, just wanting to get this over with. I never come in here to order coffee. I only come in to use the restroom. Gladys does too. It's why we live in the alley next to the coffee shop. Most places ban people like us from using the restrooms but the managers here allow it. I don't think the owner knows. He's some rich guy that owns like ten coffee shops and almost never comes here.

  "Did you decide what kind of coffee you'd like?" Shelly asks the guy. I don't even know his name, and he doesn't know mine. This is so strange. Maybe I should tell him I'm homeless and end this.

  "She can go first," he says, motioning to me. "I'm still deciding." He looks up at the order board.

  Shelly glances from him to me, then mouths the words 'you're with him?'.

  I nod and give her a look to keep quiet about my situation. I'd rather tell him myself.

  "I'll just have a coffee," I say.

  "You sure?" the guy says to me. "You should get something better than that. I'm paying, remember? It was part of the deal." He smiles.

  When I look back at Shelly, she's staring at him, like some dreamy teenager stares at her secret crush. The guy IS kind of dreamy, in that Prince Charming type of way with his dark hair and tall, lean body. But looks can be deceiving. I know that more than anyone. Prince Charmings don't exist. Neither do fairytales. The world is a cruel dark place full of people out to get as much as they can and not caring who they hurt to get it.

  Gladys always tells me I shouldn't think that way. She says there's good people out there, like Zoe, the manager who gives us free food, or Sylvia, a lady from a local church who sometimes drops off a box of donations for us, like clothes and deodorant. But people like that are rare.

  "You want to try the new pumpkin latte?" Shelly asks me. "It'd go well with the apple fritter." She poi
nts to the sack in my hand.

  "Um, sure." I shoot her a grin to thank her for not telling this guy I'm homeless.

  Shelly's my age and has worked here a month. She's in college and has a boyfriend, Joel, who sometimes comes in to get coffee. She only works part-time so I don't see her much and don't know her that well. I haven't figured out what she thinks of Gladys and me. She tolerates us because her manager does but I don't think she likes us. Maybe 'like' isn't the right word. She might like us if we weren't homeless, but since we are, she seems annoyed with us, like we should get a job like everyone else. She's never said that to me but I can tell by the way she looks at me when I come in to the use bathroom. Like she's uncomfortable having me there and wishes Gladys and I would move to some other street so she wouldn't have to see us anymore.

  "I'll try one of those too," the guy says as he gets his wallet out.

  "Two pumpkin lattes," Shelly says, smiling as she rings it up. "That'll be $8.25."

  He hands her a ten. She gives him the change and he drops it in the tip jar.

  Ten dollars. He just spent ten dollars on two coffees. If I had ten dollars, I could buy food that would last me for days. I'd get peanut butter and maybe some bread or crackers. Damn, that sounds good. There's a market a few blocks from here that I go to in the rare times people give me cash. The place is expensive because it caters to the rich people that live in the downtown lofts or work in the office buildings, but it's my only option for groceries.

  Shelly gets our drinks and we find a table near the window. It's strange being here as a customer. I sip my latte. It's really sweet, but good. I've never had a latte. Zoe's given me a free cup of plain coffee before but I always give it to Gladys because I know how much she loves coffee.

  The guy, who is sitting across from me, laughs. "I just realized I never even told you my name. It's Miles." He reaches across the table to shake my hand. "And you are?"

  "Raine." I get that feeling again when he shakes my hand. That top of the roller coaster thing. It's strange. I've never felt that way just being around someone.

  "Raine," he repeats, sitting back and taking a sip of his drink. "I like it. It's different. Is there a story behind it?" He smiles. "Do your parents like rainy days?"

  "I don't know. My dad never explained the name. And I never asked. It has an E at the end so I always have to spell it out for people, which is annoying."

  "I don't know the story behind my name either. My mom never said."

  "How about your dad?"

  "Never met him. He took off before I was born."

  "Really?" I hear the shock in my tone. I'm not sure why I'm shocked. A lot of people have a missing parent. I guess I just thought some guy with a law degree came from a wealthy family, or at least one with two parents and maybe a sibling or two and a house in the suburbs.

  "Why is that so surprising?" he asks, taking another sip of his drink.

  "It's not. Sorry. Anyway, so you said you're new in town?"

  "Yeah. I'm from Oklahoma. Grew up there. Went to college there. It's an okay place to live but I wanted something different so I applied all over the country and ended up getting this job."

  "How do you like it?"

  He shrugs. "It's fine. I'll have to work a lot of hours which I'm not looking forward to but I guess I don't really have anything else to do. Until I meet some people, I don't have much of a social life." His eyes go to mine. "Unless you'd like to change that."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Have coffee with me again. Assuming you find me at least somewhat interesting after tonight." He smiles. "And if you do, then maybe you could introduce me around? It can be lonely moving to a new city. I don't mind spending time by myself now and then but all the time is too much. Even I get sick of myself." He laughs and it makes me smile. I like that he can pick on himself like that. I don't like guys with big egos who can't laugh at themselves.

  "Sorry, but I think this will have to be it," I say, remembering what I still haven't told him.

  "Meaning we can't do this again?" He looks down and nods. "It's the tooth, isn't it?"

  "What?" I ask, not sure if he's being serious or kidding around. He seems serious.

  "My tooth," he repeats. I still don't know what he means so he smiles really wide and says, "See it?"

  I look closer. "I don't see anything."

  He laughs. "I was just kidding. I was hoping it'd make you tell me the real reason you won't have coffee with me again. Is it because of a guy? Do you have a boyfriend?"

  "No. No boyfriend," I say, still confused by the tooth thing. "So, wait. There's nothing wrong with your teeth?"

  "This one's crooked," he says, pointing to one I can't even see it's so far back. "Other than that, my teeth are fine."

  "You're strange," I say, trying not to smile but then realizing I already am. This guy has an odd sense of humor but I like it. He's different, and I like different. I'm different too. I never feel like I fit anywhere, so I latch onto people I think do, then end up finding they aren't right for me.

  "So what's the real reason?" he asks, getting serious. "You don't have a boyfriend. My teeth don't bother you. So what is it?"

  I hesitate. I don't like telling people this. Actually I don't think I ever have. When people see me digging in the trash, it's obvious I'm homeless. They don't have to ask.

  "I'm busy," I blurt out. "I don't have time."

  "Are you in school?" he asks.

  Why am I not telling him the truth? This is dumb. I need to just say it. I need to tell him I'm homeless. But I can't make myself say those words.

  "I'm not in school. Just busy with other stuff."

  "Do you live around here?"

  "Um, kind of." I move the fritter bag closer and slide my finger over the crease in the fold that's keeping it closed. I press it down, trying to focus on anything but this conversation because it's making me uncomfortable and I really just want it to end.

  "Sorry," he says. "I'm asking too many questions, aren't I? I have a tendency to do that. Maybe because I'm a lawyer."

  I look up at him. "I thought you were only half a lawyer?"

  He chuckles. "You're right. So I shouldn't be asking questions at all." He looks down at the table, then back up at me. "I know this may sound strange, but when I saw you last night I really wanted to get to know you."

  "Why?"

  "Well, for one, you said hi to me, which hardly anyone has done since I moved here. And then, I don't know, you just seemed like a nice person. Down to earth. Real."

  "What makes you say that? You don't even know me."

  "Yeah, but sometimes you can just tell. First impressions tell you a lot. And just looking at you...don't take this the wrong way because I'm saying this as a compliment."

  I stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

  "You're not all made up, like most girls. No makeup, or very little if you do have it on. Your hair is natural, not coated in product. And you dress casual. It makes you seem laid-back. Comfortable. I like that."

  "So you're saying I'm ugly." I fold my arms over my chest.

  "No! Not at all. Are you kidding? You're beautiful. What I'm saying, and apparently doing a horrible job of, is that you're real. You don't pretend to be someone else." He shakes his head. "Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything. Sometimes I'm really bad at explaining what I mean and this might've been my worst attempt ever. I was trying to compliment you. Tell you how much I like you and, well, think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He glances up at me with a sheepish grin. "But I failed. It happens when I get nervous."

  "I make you nervous?"

  "Not in a bad way. I was nervous because I want to see you again and I know if I screw this up, you'll say no. But you already told me no so..."

  "I might—" I stop before I agree to it. For a moment, I almost forgot I was homeless. I got caught up in the fantasy of being a normal girl sitting with a guy she's attracted to and feeling for a brief second like I could a
ctually have this. Like I could have a friendship, or maybe even a relationship, with a really nice guy who's also really hot and who I really, really like.

  "You might what?" he asks cautiously.

  "I need to go." I grab the fritter bag and stand up. "I just remembered I have something to do and it really needs to be done tonight."

  "Wait, you're leaving?" He quickly stands. "We just got here."

  "Yeah, but like I said, I forgot I had something to do."

  "What?" he says in a challenging tone. "What do you have to do?"

  "None of your business," I say, not looking at him. "Lawyer or not, you're right. You ask too many questions. You should really work on that." I pick up my latte.

  "Please," he says, his voice softening. "Please just give me a few more minutes. I'll stop asking you questions. We can talk about anything you want. Trees. Birds. The meaning of life. Why there's no eggs in eggplant. The ongoing debate over bathroom selfies. Or why—"

  "Okay, stop." I laugh. "I'll stay a few more minutes if you'll take a breath."

  He was talking so fast he didn't give himself time to breathe. He's desperate to get me to stay, but I don't know why. Is he just lonely being in a new town?

  We sit back down.

  "You gonna eat that?" he asks, pointing to the paper sack.

  "Um, you can have it." I push it toward him. I was planning to save it and eat it tomorrow to hold me until I could find more food but if he really wants it, he can have it.

  "It's yours," he says. "I just thought you might want it now before it gets stale. You want a plate?"

  "I don't need one." I decide to just eat it now because I AM really hungry. I'm used to being hungry but it's a feeling I don't like, especially at night. It's hard to sleep when you're hungry.

  Taking the fritter out, I set it on the bag and slide it over to him. "Want some?"

  "No thanks." He eyes the golden brown pastry drizzled with icing. "Although it does look really good."

  "Have some." I tear it in half, take mine, and slide the other half toward him.

  "You sure?"

  "Totally. You have to try it. They're the best I've ever had. They get them from this bakery in Aurora."