Cute, Cozy, Queer Stories

Part 11: Carly & Reisha

Carly

Carly fiddled with the bundled silverware and cloth napkin on the table. He's gonna think this is a date. 

She regretted choosing the restaurant now. It was a great brunch spot, one she had already come to like, even with just a few weeks in the city. With a gentle breeze moving through the shaded patio, the sun shining down on the brickwork and the first new blossoms on the sidewalk trees, it was the perfect spot to enjoy a warm spring day. But the white tablecloths, tall menus with raised type, and menu of "artisan" drinks made it a prime date location.

The waiter approached, a tall blond man in a fitted, button-down shirt and a sleeve of winding tattoos. "Hi, I'm Josh, I'll be taking care of you. What can I get for you?"

Carly smiled. He looked like the type of man she would've dated in college because she thought she was supposed to. His type appealed to the punk aesthetic she'd been too afraid to evince herself, all those years ago. "I'm still waiting for someone. But, can I get a water? And a bloody mary?"

"We actually have three types—jalapeno-basil, pepper-bacon, and mango-habanero. Would you like one of those?"

"Sure, jalapeno-basil." She said the words without thinking about them. Tyrese was the only other person she'd known that liked bloody marys as much as she did. His other friends always gave him shit about it, teasing him that it was some kind of 'girly brunch drink.'

At least he'll like this place. A stab of guilt hit her. Even if it confuses the shit out of him.

"Great. I'll bring some water and get that started for you. Would you like a bread basket as well?"

She zoned out. She thought of Tyrese's face, the kaleidoscopic energy he seemed to dim around his other friends, as if afraid they might snuff it out. She thought of his dark-skinned countenance, his drunken, bright-shining smile, all of him gleaming in the moonlight when he swam in the river with her that night, almost a decade ago. She thought of the countless movie nights and study nights, laughing at and lamenting their love lives and work lives. A dozen or more brunch dates surged back to her, making her smile, as they shared drunken decisions that showed their lack of forethought in the light, alongside eggs and spicy bloody marys.

She suspected he had feelings he never spoke of. And she knew she loved him. But not in the way he wanted. The alcohol will help, she thought, but didn't believe it.

"Miss?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Would you like a bread basket?" Josh asked again.

"Yeah, sure, that's—Mmhmm. Great. Thank you. Actually, um—two bloody marys. Um, mango-haberno for the other one. For my friend." She smiled again and he smiled back.

"You got it. Coming right up."

She looked down at her plate and fiddled with the silverware again. She had thought about dating Tyrese shortly after they'd met in Introduction to Business Statistics. But she hadn't, because she knew how it would end—she would get tired, bored, irritated, or frustrated with him after a few weeks, and never want to see him again. At that time, she'd never understood why that always happened with the men she dated, why she inexplicably wanted distance after sleeping with them. And she didn't want that to happen with Tyrese. He was kind. He was really, actually kind. She couldn't stand the idea of hurting him.

Then she'd met Annette. And, though the relationship wasn't destined to last, Annette had made everything click. Being with her was another galaxy compared to the relationships she'd had with men. With Annette, Carly truly understood those words she'd only thought she'd understood before—adoration, desire, affection, lust.