Starbucks Boy

“You shall love your crooked neighbor, with your crooked heart”

“ Small skinny vanilla latte please” I said trying to stay awake as I waited patiently for my morning drug.

“Coming right up,”

I was a bad day and it was only 8:00. As I stood by the counter holding my backpack and moving out of the way for every grumpy person who, like myself, wasn’t an

early bird and would much rather still be snuggled under the warm covers of their bed instead of having to face society on a cold and rainy day. I stood and waited

listening to the buzzing voices of conversations coming for around the room. Everyone seemed to have a story to tell. Finally my latte arrived and I happily grabbed it

with one hand and pushed the door open with the other. Just then out of no where a figure crashed right into me sending my latte flying. It landed at my feet and

dispersed everywhere. I looked down and was horrified to find my converse covered in beige liquid. It began to sink through my shoes and soon my toes were

swimming in vanilla bean latte. The smell rose to my nose making me angry that someone had ruined my morning pick up ritual.

“ hey in really sorry. I didn’t see you,” said a voice behind me.

I turned around and came face to face with a pink Floyd shirt. The owner of this shirt was obviously taller than my 5’4 build. I looked up. A boy about my age was

standing in front of me he was looking at me with a worried face.

“I really am sorry. I work here and I was late so I ran here and I was just going to slip inside and pretend I’m on time but then you came and my plan didn’t work

out quite right,” he said and smiled.

I looked at him and frowned.

“You shattered my latte into the ground, you ruined my shoes and you ruined my morning. I don’t see anything funny,” I said and waited.

“Technically I didn’t shatter it because im positive paper cups don’t break. Come inside and I’ll help you dry your shoes and as for your morning I am deeply sorry but

you came out of the store at the moment where I came in so it was as much your fault as it was mine,” he said and his smile grew.

“ Really, is this how you treat all your costumers by blaming them for coming out of the store at normal speed like everyone else?” I asked still not finding this

situation funny, “I’ll be late for school. Nice being run over by you. Bye,” I said and began to walk always sulking about my spilled coffee.

“aw common, I said I was sorry. Come inside I’ll clean your shoes and I’ll make you a new drink for free,” he said and I could hear the grin in his voice which made

me even angrier.

“ Look buddy, I don’t know you and frankly I don’t care enough to get to know you but you already managed to ruin my day so if I were you I’d stop talking and get

the hell away from me,”

“ I guess you’re not a morning person,” he said and grabbed my arm pulling me back inside the store.

As promised he sits me down on the counter and cleans my shoes using up an enormous amount of paper what would have made an environmentalist kill himself

right there on the spot. Then he makes me a latte and then leads me to a table in the back room sitting down across from me.

“Lets start over. Hey,” he said and waits patiently.

“Hi,” I reply

“Aren’t you that girl that refused to leave her house when it caught on fire?” he asked.

“ Yeah, I’m that girl, the one that’s impossible to forget but hard to remember”

“ I knew I’d seen you before. I lived across the street from you,”

“Alright, ask it already,” I said.

He grinned and finally just as I was taking a sip from my latte he said ”Sorry I’m just curious. Why didn’t you try and escape when the fire started? Were you trying

to save your stuff cause that what I would do if my house burned down. I’d run to save everything in my room especially my music collection.”

“I know that houses burn down , I know mine did, and that one should think of what to save before a fire starts. It’s just that when it starts everything looks as

valuable as everything else and it didn’t seem worth the bother to save anything, at least not for me, not even my own life.”

“oh. So you tried to kill youself?”he asked his eyes trying to figure out my expression.

“Do you by any chance know the capital of Latvia?” I asked drinking my latte slowly, enjoying the feeling of caffeine entering my veins waking my senses up.

“no,” he said

“ditto but I definitely want to find out,” I said and waited,” Anything else you want to know?”

“nothing.” he said not quite looking at me yet. But I suppose when you spring something like suicide on a person you cant expect them to begin to function properly

on geography.

“Do you know my families dog died yesterday?” I asked

“Why your families dog?”

“Well he isn’t mine that for sure. He’s my father’s but he died a year ago.”

“I’m sorry. What did your families dog die from?”

“ Saturday, oh she died of a broken heart.” I replied

“ Really. How so?” He looked interested and his crooked grin returned.

“She was my fathers favourite. His first love and only worry. He would talk to her like she was one of us. She was his everything. His life was for her. We were just

substitutes, humans he lived with but never really loved. After he died no one really bothered with her much, I mean we were used to being substitutes we could

only love so much and we never learned to love her . We could have loved Saturday, I could have loved Saturday, if only my father hadn’t loved her first. One As

much love as we had to give he’d given more. We couldn’t compete with something like that.” I replied.

He looked at me and smiled.

“You are strangely interesting. I‘m not used to knowing girls like you,” he said

“Of course not. That’s because I am one of a kind,” I replied finishing my drink,” so what about you? Tell me something that no one knows about you.”

“I’m in love with my foster care parent’s daughter. How Breakfast Club is that?”

“ I say go get her because life is important don’t ever give up on it,” I relied studying his face.

“This coming from a girl who gave up in a burning house,” he replied.

“Touché!” I said and smiled at him,” tell me more.”

“ I don’t want to end up like my father. I want to be so much better than him. I want to do something important in my life. Something that will affect the work

somehow so that when I‘m gone someone out there will know who I am,” he said his face serious.

“What is your father?”

“ An alcoholic,” he replied.

“Guess everyone is related to fuck up. My mother left my family when I was born. My dad had to raise me and my sister alone. But It’s better this way I wouldn’t

want my mother here even it she returned.”

He gets up and leaves the room returning a moment later carrying a slice of cheese cake. He set it on the table and hands me a fork. We sit and eat silently each

thinking about something. Finally he looks up at me.

“ I feel like I know you or someone like you. I need to know that there are people out there who are good listeners. I really need to know that people like you exist.

Somewhere,”

“ I’m not a good listener. I think im such a great listener but most of the time im too busy worrying about myself to listen. People like you and me, we don’t have that

many problems but we like to borrow other people’s problems and make them our own. That’s our problem,” I reply.

He is silent and as I turn to look at him I see the clock above his head it’s 12:00. I’m really late for school but sitting here eating cheesecake seem too good of an

opportunity to miss so instead of leaving I stay. The rest of the day passes instantly and the next time I look up its 5:00. We have been so absorbed in conversation

I lost complete control of the world around me along with it the time.

I get up and stretch my legs. He’s still sitting across from me and as I bend down to grab my bag he touched my wrist and smiles at me when I look up. We say

nothing as he escorts me to the door at the front of the store.

“You are an incredible person,” he says giving me one of his crooked smiles and saying everything that has to be said without words.

“Promise me you’ll tell her,” I say.

“Promise.”

I smile. This is a boy that has somehow managed to enter my life even if only to offer my his company for 8 hours. In these short hours he has changed me and

created a ripple in my life. When he is gone maybe I’ll be that person who will always remember who he was. We both know we wont ever see each other again; we

don’t even know each others named. But that doesn’t matter the time we did spend together is all that matters. In the end it’s the experience that matters. The

experience is all I need.

“Thank you,” is all I whisper as I slightly push the door open and quietly manoeuvre myself through the small space as the sweet scent of brewing coffee clings to

my clothes escaping with me. Carrying with it a memory of that boy I met one morning while buying coffee.

That Starbucks boy.