Cute, Cozy, Queer Stories

Part 13: Rue

It was already a tough day. Hot coffee stained the front of Rue's blue polo and khakis, and she wasn't sure which hurt worse; her raw pink skin underneath, or her pride. Every time a customer wrinkled their brow, looking her up and down with a mixture of pity and laughter on their face, she felt pathetic.

And it was only 8 AM.

Rue couldn't fathom why the spelling bee championship had to start at the asscrack of dawn, or what child was ready to spell disestablishmentarianism first thing in the morning. But the regional title was held in conjunction with the university, which meant Rue and her fellow concession stand servants had to be there. She had the extra good fortune of being a part of the opening shift, so she had to sit in her coffee-stained clothes from the time she brewed—and spilled—coffee at 6 AM, until she left at 3 PM, after the lunch rush.

"Can I get a..." Standing at the counter, the bald man's eyes ran up and down Rue's front. "...a coffee?"

Holding in a sigh, Rue glanced towards the pot. "Sorry, sir, we're brewing more now. If you want to wait, it'll be ready in about five minutes."

He scoffed a laugh. "Did you spill it all on yourself?"

She gave a humorless laugh back. "Only the first pot."

"How about a bagel?"

She gave a wincing smile. "We have bagels, but the toaster is broken. Would you like one untoasted?"

The man frowned, his thick eyebrows drawing down. "Can't you just stick it in the oven or something?"

"No, we only have the toaster oven. I could microwave it for you."

"That wouldn't make it toasted, would it?" He laughed. "I thought you college kids were smart."

And spelling bee parents sure are assholes. She puffed out another humorless laugh, saying nothing.

Shaking his head, the man walked away. The young woman behind him passed a curious look at his back as she approached the counter. That gave Rue a moment to take her in. With long, wavy black hair, a strong jaw, rich, red lips, and gold shimmer on her high cheeks, she was immediately striking; a dazzling beacon in a painfully ordinary sea.

When she turned back, her brown eyes and polite smile blessing Rue with gentle light, Rue's heart struggled to beat.

"Imagine being butt-hurt over a bagel." Her voice was deep, quiet and slow, like telling her a secret.

Rue snorted and put a hand over her mouth. Smooth. "Right? Some people gotta get the carbs, I guess."

"Me included. I'll take a bagel. Untoasted. Whatever kind you got. Throw some cream cheese on there and I'm happy."

Somewhere out of Rue's tired mind and exhausted spirit, a genuine smile fought through. "You got it." She slid an everything bagel in a paper sleeve with a tube of cream cheese and a butter knife, and handed it to the striking woman. "You can, uh, you know—cheese it up. However you like."

Cheese it up? Cheese it up?! You did not just use cheese as a verb, you idiot.

But the woman laughed. "Thank you."

"Can I get you anything else?" Rue's cheeks burned.

"Yeah. If that coffee's ready, I'll take a cup."

"Um," she leaned back and glanced again at the carafe, nearly full. "Couple more minutes."

"I'll wait."