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Of Butterflies & Goldfish (a serial)

Monday

By Nicholas ScottPublished 10 months ago 20 min read
2

“Simon, what have you got to lose? I know you like him.” Mia Hunter, my best friend since third grade, leaned back in her seat, gnawing on a green Starbucks straw. She studied me, possibly trying to understand the workings of my brain. You’d think, by now, she’d know. I felt like a scarab beetle pinned to a cork board.

“Oh… I don’t know. A sense of self-decorum.” I sounded a bit pretentious.

“Pfft.” Mia scoffed. “Self-decorum is reserved for weddings and funerals, mostly funerals.”

“My pride?” I suggested. It was best not to jump at the bait she dangled.

Mia primly raised a finger, “Pride goeth…”

I raised my hand, blocking her view of my face. “Talk to the hand and don’t giveth me any of your homilies.”

“ For the record, it’s not a homily but a proverb.”

I just stared at her.

She leaned across the table. “Just lemme talk to him. I’ll talk you up. You know I’m really good at it.”

“No,” I whispered insistently, leaning toward her. “The last time you talked me up…”

“Hey. As I’ve said like a billion times before, I’m the best wingman ever. True or not true, you got a little something-something out of that deal.” She fluttered her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “Peter was…”

“You verbally coerced him into going on a date with me.” 

“Coerced. Please.” Mia rolled her eyes. “I did no such thing. He needed persuading. You remember how shy he was. Plus, he was so into you. No pun intended. And you. Before Peter, you’d hardly even look at a guy much less… ”

“Okay. Okay. You’re the best wingman ever. But…” I shook my head. I was gun shy and thought my innocuous glances at Peter would go unnoticed. But Mia doesn’t miss much. And she knows me too well.

Peter was a beautiful soul. A soul I never would have gotten to know if it weren’t for Mia and her meddling. We had a lovely torrid affair that lasted the better part of six months my junior year in college until he had to fly off to Europe for work. 

“How ‘bout this? If Max comes in today…”

She paused and looked at the entrance. You could see most of the parking lot from where we sat. Peak shift had already passed and only three cars were parked out there now, two of them mine and Mia’s.

The other car belonged to a regular who showed up at the crack of dawn and stayed for hours. He plugged his laptop, his notebook and his phone and set up office. Once he even brought a printer but Samantha put the kibosh on that real quick.

Fairweather Community College hadn’t started classes yet, still another week, so the afternoon migration for a caffeine fix after a long day of mind-numbing instruction had yet to begin in earnest. Mia leaned in again. “If Max comes in and smiles at you like he normally does…”

“He doesn’t smile at me.” I objected. “He just… I don’t know, smiles.” He had a beautiful smile and the idea that he was giving them to me perplexed me. Mia says I lacked self-confidence.

Mia shook her head. Mia, my greatest advocate, my wing person, was a firm believer in action, mine or hers if the case demanded it, consequences be damned. I liked the whole wait-and-see approach or as Mia liked to say, leaving my balls in their court, pun intended. Granted, history had proven her method had better results. “Fine, if he comes in and if he just smiles, then can I do my thing?”

“He probably just wants free extra shots in his latte. He’s just buttering me up. Have you seen his dimples?” I play devil’s advocate. He uses them to great effect. He’d been in every day for the last two weeks, and every day he smiles at me; ya know, for the free extra shots in his latte.

“You’re such a negative Nellie. No wonder you’re alone.” 

I gasp. She likes to use the A word like a sword, piercing me, trying to prod me into action. “I’m alone, by choice, thank you very much,” I huff.

“That’s just something lonely people say,” she pointed out.

“First off, no. I’m not lonely. And second, the quality of men around here is terribly lacking. I’m this close to dating women.” I hold my thumb and index finger a few centimeters apart.

Mia laughs. “Please. We all had a meeting, and none of us will have you. Besides, we both know, you’re just holding out for perfection.” She sighed dramatically. “I hate to break it to you, but perfection doesn’t exist. And if it did, it would be in the form of a twenty-year-old Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Why twenty?” Mia had it bad for DiCaprio. Not that I blamed her, the man was utter perfection.

“Hello, good looks for one and for two, at twenty he just got his role in Titanic. If I got my hooks into him then, before all the fame and fortune, he’d know that I was in it for all the right reasons.”

“Riiiiiiight. Hindsight being the perfect leveler.” I sighed, dropping my shoulders. There really was no talking to her. Once she’s set her mind to something; the best approach, after a great deal of quibbling, was to relent with some ground rules. 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Quit changing the subject. Let me talk you up.” I don’t know why she was pouting like her happiness depended on the outcome of all her meddling.

“Fine. You can talk to him. But there will be no, let me be very clear on this point: there will be no, none, zero, zip, zilch, under any circumstance, will there be any sort of discussion about my…”

“What?”

“Don’t what me. He doesn’t need to know, especially from you, that I have…” I did air quotes. “...the cutest little birthmark on my left ass cheek.”

“It looks like a little pink butterfly.”

“I don’t care if it looks like Shawn Mendes; who, by the way, is perfection personified, so you can’ have your DiCaprio.” I shook my head, distracted by the brain montage of Shawn Mendes flashing behind my eyes. “Quit telling people about my birthmark.”

She waved me off. “Oh, you’re no fun. And I’m the BFF to a gay man. If I didn’t know about it, then nobody would. There’s nothing worse than a lonely prude.”

“I’m not…. I shook my head. “Whatever. You’re so weird. Don’t you think it’s a bit weird, that you know about it in the first place and that you so freely talk about it. It’s my birthmark on my ass.”

Mia perked up like a prairie. She looked out the window, leaning halfway out of her chair to look along the front of the building. “What’s he drive, again?” she asked nonchalantly as if she didn’t know already.

My heart skipped. “A blue…”

She leaned back in her chair, disheartened before I could finish. “Never mind. Just some lady.”

“Beamer,” I finished in an exhalation of relief. I don’t know why I was nervous. Aside from Mia’s meddling. It’s not like I lacked self-confidence. I was quite confident that Max was out of my league.

Mia looked out the front glass doors again then popped up out of her chair. “It’s your turn.” She pulled her green apron off and scooted it across the table. “I have to go to the little girl’s room.” She curtsied, excusing herself.

I glared balefully as I heard the ruckus of little kids yammering through the glass door. I heard her run the rest of the way to the bathroom, the door lock clicking, so I couldn’t go in there and drag her back out to help. “You’re cleaning up after them,” I yelled after her. Cake pop remnants were bound to be all over the place. I considered flinging some on the floor myself.

I sighed, looping the apron around my neck then ambled listlessly behind the counter. A little kid pressed his face and hands against the door leaving grimy paw prints all over the glass. He tried pulling the door open then yelled over his shoulder. By the time a woman arrived at the entrance, a gaggle of little kids had bottlenecked at the door.

I put on my employee smile as they swarmed in and rushed the counter.

Grubby hands touched everything even as the woman admonished them to keep their hands to themselves. “Put that back.” I grimaced as one kid tore open a bag of chips while another worried at a cellophane-wrapped cookie.

“What can I get started for you today?” 

The harried woman looked up as if just noticing me. 

“Oh. I need…”. The rack of gift cards on the counter suddenly crashed to the floor. “Bobby, what did I tell you? Keep your hands…. Clean that up.” She turned to me. 

I leaned over the counter and looked at the mess. Three of the kids were piling the gift cards back into the rack in no order. I took a deep calming breath. “It’s fine,” I spoke more to myself than to the woman across the counter. “What can I get started for you today?”

I need 3…” she counted silently to herself. “No make that four milks, two chocolate, and two 2 percent. I need a chamomile tea, one venti Strawberries & Cream Frappuccino. And six cake pops.” I looked down at the bag of chips the kid had torn open. She followed my gaze and snagged the bag from the kid’s grasping hands and dropped it on the counter. “You shouldn’t put those where kids can reach them,” she sneered.

I nodded. “I’ll bring that up to management,” I droned, ringing up the chips and, for good measure, the cookie that was now a bag of cookie crumbs. “Can I have your name?”

“Karen,” she spouted.

Of course, it is.

“Anything else, Karen?”

I caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of my eye: Mia, laughing, had her hand on Max’s arm. A blush colored his cheeks as he glanced over at me. She continued speaking, though I couldn’t hear her over the loud throng of kids. He nodded at something she said. I could only imagine what she’d just gotten me into, but rest assured, there would be hell to pay. Distracted, I grabbed the cake pops and accidentally knocked the little cake balls against the side of the glass pastry case sending them rolling across the floor.  Karma for my thought earlier.

The woman scowled. 

I grimaced then threw a quick glance at Mia. “Mia! Could you go back and get some more cake pops? I’m short…”. I counted the remaining cake pops in the case. “I need two more.”

Mia rolled her eyes, touched Max’s arm again. She leaned in and said something else, he nodded again; accepting an assignment or acknowledging orders. She walked to the back room and Max moseyed up and got in line behind the woman. I waited awkwardly for Mia, looking over my shoulder at the back door willing her to return while casting side glances at Max. 

Karen cleared her throat. “Can you get the rest of my order?”

“Oh. Sorry. Yeah. For sure.”

Max smiled and his blue-green eyes sparkled. My knees went weak. I held onto the counter, glanced back over my shoulder again, wondering what was taking Mia so long. 

The woman cleared her throat again.

I started on her Frappuccino. I blended the strawberry purée, ice, and milk and poured it into a venti cup. I could feel Max watching me. The vanilla whip cream just drizzled out of the canister. I didn’t dare look up; certain I would see Karen scowling. Or worse, the dazzling sparkle in Max’s eyes. I grabbed a full canister, shook it only to have whip cream jet out of the nozzle, knocking the drink off the counter. “Son of a…”

“Here’s your cake pops.” Mia held the box open so I could grab a couple. I placed them gently into little paper bags and then on the counter and grabbed the remaining pops in the case, carefully avoiding the display case.

“I want fresh ones. Those have probably been sitting there all day. Dixie, Bobby, Ronnie, Cookie, Charlie”. Karen clapped her hands to get their attention. Like a herd of meerkats, the rowdy kids stopped what they were doing and glanced over. “Hurry up. Get your cake pops. We’re gonna be late.” The meerkats transformed into a flock of pigeons landing at her feet. She parceled out cake pops and cartons of milk, then she turned to me. 

I finished the second Frappuccino and gently scooted it across the counter with a smile. 

“I had a chamomile tea,” she complained. “And I need a straw.”

I took a deep calming breath.

“I got it.” Mia came up beside me holding her tea. “Here ya go. One chamomile tea. Have a nice day, Karen.”

Just some lady, I thought.

We watched them leave and I sighed. I turned to Mia. “You suck.”

Mia nodded to her right, gesturing with her eyes. I’d forgotten Max was still in line. I turned back to him. “Sorry. Could you just…” I smiled and held up a finger. “She really does suck.” I turned back toward Mia.

“You already knew that woman,” I accused. And Max, I added mentally. “You didn’t have to go to the bathroom at all, did you? Didn’t even warn me.”

Mia shrugged. 

“For the record. I hate you.” 

Max cleared his throat. I grabbed onto the counter again.

“You want a break?” Mia nodded to herself. “I think you need a break. I can clean up this mess.” She pointed to the remnants of the first attempted Frappuccino and the destroyed cake-pops in the glass case and on the floor.

I turned to Max, ignoring her. “Sorry. I don’t really hate her. Well at the moment I’m cursing her name, but I don’t hate her.” Max blinked. “Grande Iced Vanilla Latte?”

He nodded, smiling, his dimples deep enough to hold quarters. “Yes, thank you…” He looked at Mia then leaned against the counter. “Can I have an extra shot of espresso?”

Mia coughed out laughter. “I can get…”. Mia began. 

“No. I’m good. You’ve done enough for one day.” If she told him what I said about the free extra shots, I was going to have to smother her in her sleep. I went over to the espresso machine shooting Mia dirty looks. “I’ll take a break after I make this.” I drew a double espresso shot from one spigot and another from the other. I peeked up at Max. He was rearranging the gift cards in the rack. He must have felt my gaze. He looked up. “Sorry. OCD.” He grinned. I turned quickly and grabbed the milk and pumped in the vanilla syrup. Max still worked on rearranging the gift cards in the rack as I turned for the shots of espresso. He stepped back from the rack of gift cards and studied it, reached up, and touched the corner of one of the cards until it fell properly into place. 

That’s better, he mouthed to himself. I fought from sighing. Good god, he’s fucking adorable.

I put his drink on the counter, whipped off the apron, and tossed it at Mia. I headed straight for the exit and the patio.

“Sorry, that was a dick move.” Max stood at edge of the patio, his hands tucked in his pocket, as he rocked back on his heels.

“Yeah, it was.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Ironically the only dick move was Mia’s.”

Max laughed harder than I did. “Oh really?”

I looked at him. He had that full wattage smile on display, one dimple deeper than the other.

I replayed what I just said in my head. “No, I mean… Mia’s very persuasive. She means well in her own diabolical way. No matter what I tell her to do, she seems hell-bent on…”

“I just wanted to see you blush,” Max admitted.

I scratched the back of my neck; certain he just got his wish as my cheeks heated up. I pushed out the accompanying chair at my table. “You wanna sit?”

His silent pause drew my gaze.

He nodded as he responded. “Yeah, I do. But… I have to go to work.”

I nodded.

“I was just wondering…. Do you want to…”

I looked at him, my heart suddenly pounding. I was already nodding my head on the inside.

“I’ve got an extra ticket to the Shawn Mendes concert this weekend and was wondering if you wanted to join me.”

I turned in my chair. “There’s no…” I didn’t want to tell him, that I had Shawn’s touring schedule etched in stone in my head. The closest place he was playing was in Ohio of all places and that wasn’t until the end of September. I’d tried getting tickets, but the concert had sold out in like 7 minutes.

“It’s in New York,” he added.

I gaped at him.

“I know it’s out of the blue and you don’t know me from Adam, and it’s in New York but…”

How could I possibly go to a concert in New York with someone I didn’t know.

“I know you like him,” he continued persuasively.

I glanced at him again, his words sounding much like Mia’s when she was trying to persuade me. “How do you…” I began.

“I heard you and Mia talking the other day when I was in.” Max looked down at his shoes.

Oh, you heard, did you? I glanced over at Mia as I spoke. “And you just happened to have two tickets.”

He shrugged. “Not… exactly.” He looked away.

I waited for him to continue. Then it dawned on me. “Wait. You bought two tickets to a Shawn Mendes concert because you overheard Mia and me talking about Shawn Mendes?”

He shrugged. “I figured it’d make a great first date.”

“Who does that? How’d you get tickets? And what if I’d said no? That’s a little…”

“Crazy,” he finished then nodded. “I know. But Mia…”

“Hold up?” I glanced back over my shoulder. Mia stood at the glass door leading to the patio. As soon as I looked back at her, she ducked sideways only to reappear seconds later with a plastic bottle of blue glass cleaner. She pretended to be cleaning the glass then dropped the bottle of glass cleaner and scrambled to get it. “You two have talked before today?” I remembered the way she had her hand on his arm. Mia wasn’t one for social protocols like personal space and decorum, but there was a familiarity to her behavior.

“Don’t blame Mia. I approached her. I could tell you two were close.” He shrugged. “So, I asked her about you. Told her I was interested. I asked for ideas for a date.”

“Ideas?” I shook my head. “Shawn Mendes isn’t an idea, it’s an anniversary present.” I looked back at Mia. She scrubbed tenaciously at a particular spot on the window, not looking at us but it was obvious her attention was perfectly attuned to our conversation.

Max smiled. “Well, when we hit it off, next year we’ll see Shawn again.” He stood straighter. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. The perfect gentleman.”

“When did you and Mia…?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“That’s when you started coming in?”

“Yeah.” He smiled before admitting. “I was a bit captivated.” He sighed. “I get a little…”

“By me? You? Captivated by me?”

“Haven’t you ever just saw someone and went weak in the knees? I don’t even really like coffee.” He laughed to himself. “I felt like a…”

Stalker, I thought. The alarm on my phone went off. My break was over. I stood automatically. “I gotta get back to work.”

“Look, you don’t have to answer now. Here…” He handed me a business card. I flipped it over. “That’s my personal number.”

I looked at the card. Apparently, Max Hunter was a financial advisor for a company called Goldfish Investing. I flipped it over. He’d written a number on the back of the card.

I didn’t say anything.

“Okay.” He took a few steps backward, watching me, maybe waiting for a response. Truthfully, I was a bit speechless. “I hope you’ll call.” He walked backward, his eyes trained on me until he reached his car.

I looked back at the card. Then looked up when he disarmed his car alarm. He sat for a moment before starting it up. I don’t know if he watched me, the windows were tinted, but I felt his gaze behind the dark glass. I watched him drive away until his car was out of sight. That’s when Mia came out.

I looked at her expectantly.

“What?”

“You know what!” I lowered my voice, even though we were the only ones here. “You already talked to him. You’ve been spilling your guts,” I accused. I pointed at her. “Judas. Where’s your twenty pieces of silver,” I demanded.

Mia shook her head. “You’re so melodramatic. He asked me to tell him five things about you.” She shrugged. “I didn’t see any harm. He was interested. You’re obviously interested. I didn’t tell him anything earth-shattering. Nothing that you won’t tell him yourself. So, I don’t know why you’re so pissed.”

“I’m not… I just wasn’t expecting….” Five things? I rounded on her. “What five things did you tell him?”

She pondered the patio cover as if trying to recall the details of her betrayal. The patio fans blew her hair wildly. She pulled long strands of auburn hair out of her mouth. “Well one, that you’re a huge Shawn Mendes fan, obviously, but he seemed to know that already. He just nodded his head; didn’t even write it down.”

“Wait, he wrote things down?”

Mia nodded. “Yeah, he had this cute little black notebook. Had your name written at the top of the page. I guess technically he did write it down cuz he had Shawn Mendes written down and underlined a couple of times.”

That was kind of freaky. Maybe there was something wrong with him.

“Okay, that’s one. What else did you tell him.”

“I told him you liked Starbucks, even though you work here. I told him you’re a big reader. Told him your favorite author is Stephen King.” She paused for a moment. “But you’ll be happy to know, he has no idea that you have a butterfly tattoo.”

“Well, at least you did one thing right,” I huffed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You already know you have a butterfly tattoo.” Mia laughed.

“Ha ha. Very funny. You know what I’m talking about,” I groused.

“Tell you what? That he’s interested in you? What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last two weeks? You won’t even acknowledge that he smiles at you. When it’s so freakin’ obvious.”

“Yeah but, hinting and suggesting… you do that all the time with every freakin’ guy that comes in here. Wouldn’t it have been easier for you to just tell me? Why didn’t you tell me two weeks ago when he first told you he was interested?”

Mia turned and started toward the door.

“Mia?”

Mia’s shoulders dropped. She did an about-face on her heels. “Well, for one thing, you would have found a reason or reasons why it wouldn’t work.” She lowered her voice, mimicking me. “What could possibly be wrong with him?”

She had a point. I hated to admit it, but I was, as she put it, something of a negative Nellie. And I would most definitely have asked what was wrong with him, but the truth was I would wonder what he possibly saw in me.

“You have no idea how hard I had to work to get you to go out with Peter. And that turned out all right, didn’t it?”

I nodded. “It worked out perfectly, until he moved away.”

Mia winced.

I looked at the card Max had given me.

Goldfish Investing had offices all over the world. What was to keep Max from venturing off to some other part of the world?

To Be Continued. :)

Love
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About the Creator

Nicholas Scott

I write LGBTQ+ fiction

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