Between You & Me - By Marisa Calin Page 0,19

is emerging between us again.

YOU

Ehh … Think I might pick a shiny new friend.

ME

Totally! I know I would. Nice T-shirt by the way. Yellow. Cheerful!

YOU

Yeah, thought I’d try something new.

ME

With that and a new friend, you’ll be golden.

YOU

I’m excited.

I laugh, feeling the relief of having you back wash over me. For the first time in a few days I feel almost normal again—everything the way it should be. And I know that now is not the time to tell you anything. In this second, I like things just the way they are.

PEELE’S. THURSDAY. AFTER SCHOOL. A FEW WEEKS LATER.

The burnt-orange apron? Yes, mine! Peele’s standard issue, which I wear with pride. The kind of pride you manufacture to hide embarrassment. The coffee cup: not mine but on its way to table 7 if I can remember which table is 7. It’s only been a week since we were walking past and you pointed out the “Part-time help needed” sign in the window. I was running low on spending money, and with the theater trip and a few new movies I can’t wait to see, the apron was a concession I needed to make.

We’re back on track, you and me; at least I think so. It’s taken a couple of weeks but with time and my efforts to act like a normal person, I think we’re okay. We’ve never had a real fight before, so I hope so. I’m not sure I realized how uneasy it made me. I still feel relieved every time I see you smile at me each morning.

It’s my first day so you’ve come in to surprise me, for moral support you say, settling into a window seat in the corner as the bell on the door dings. I don’t look up, it dings every few minutes. The next moment, guess who is here, sitting down at the table next to yours! I knew there was a chance but I can’t believe she’s come in already! And she’s alone; this is the perfect excuse. She’s even more beautiful when she doesn’t think anyone is looking. I start toward her table, reaching into my apron pocket for my pad. Another ding, and when I look up she’s standing to hug the tall skinny girl who has just come through the door. Feeling my cheeks burn, I slip into the store cupboard and stare at the Sweet ’N Low for a second’s reflection to pull myself together. When I reappear, smoothing down my apron self-consciously, you’re gesturing helpfully to Mia from behind your menu in case I haven’t noticed her. She’s dressed more casually than in school—jeans and a silk scarf knotted loosely around her neck, with hoop earrings. It never occurred to me she would look so different on her own time. She’s talking cheerfully to her friend now, an intimidatingly chic fashion type in a shirt with ruffles. Picking my moment, I swan toward them. My apron pocket catches on the corner of the counter and it stops me short, sending the croissant I’m carrying flying off its plate. Fortunately the sound of a falling croissant hitting the floor is a mere rustle, and I carry on as though the plate has always been empty and the croissant has always been on the floor.

MIA

Phyre? I didn’t know you worked here.

ME

Oh, hi. I didn’t, till today. It’s just for the apron. I think the amber brings out my eyes.

She laughs. Hear that? I made her laugh. A beautiful sound! Draw attention to the apron, I thought. Preemptively agree I look stupid in case they think I haven’t realized.

MIA

Suze, this is a student of mine.

Suze looks up at me and smiles, turning back to Mia almost immediately.

SUZE

Oh right! I can’t get used to the fact that you’re teaching already.

MIA

Crazy, I know!

I stand here like a lemon, thinking how much younger Mia seems in her own life, separate from us. They’re smiling politely now, waiting for me to continue. I start, enthusiastically, then realize I’m being too cheerful—they might think I really like working in a coffee shop and have no life—so I bring it down a notch. I prop my hand against the redbrick wall beside them, which makes me feel like the guy who rests his arm on the back of your seat in a movie theater, so I remove it almost as fast, focusing on my pad. Small talk over, I forget to ask Ruffles if she wants a small or a large raspberry rooibos and, pretty