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Sunglasses in February

Faye and I would've gone to the cafe on Ness Road, but it's closed Sundays, so we made our way to a coffee shop called "Common Grace". It was a small, modern looking place with cheerful employees. We sit in the corner, me with my slice of banana bread and Faye with her latte.

"Do you not like coffee?" she asks me.

"Not really, no."

"You drank espresso yesterday, though."

"I was being polite." Faye smiles at me. "I'm able to be polite sometimes."

"Sure. I'd just take you for a coffee drinker, that's all."

"Why's that?" I glance at her mug. It smells like honey and nutmeg.

"You're a bit mean," she replies casually and I almost laugh. "Most people who are mean like coffee."

"I'll drink it if it's pumped full of syrups and stuff."

"You," she says, sipping her latte. "Are going to have a heart attack due to the amount of sugar you consume on a regular basis."

I roll my eyes and pick at the food before me. "So, why'd you switch schools," I ask after a moment. Judging by the look of Faye's face, this was not the casual question I hoped it would be. "Oh, sorry. That was nosy."

"No, it's alright." I nod, because she may want to continue. I want her to continue. "Last semester was particularly difficult and my classmates learned about some... personal stuff. It was awful. So, here I am."

"Oh," I say, but she doesn't say anything else. It's like the first time, I actually want Faye Edgell to talk and she is being extremely vague. "And, you like Summerfield better?"

"I do. Beside the fight, everything has been good." An old man enters the cafe, making us the only three people inside the seating area. Faye smiles at him as if he were an old friend, but he waves like they're strangers. "Do you like Summerfield?"

"Uh, it's fine." There isn't anything entirely wrong with my school. The teachers and students are normal. Now that Marcos is gone, there's hardly anything to complain about. I just think that, maybe, I hate school in general. I could go anywhere and still be completely miserable.

"So, what's your 'thing' then?" Faye is already almost done with her coffee.

"My 'thing'?"

"Yeah, like, are you good at math or history or anything?"

"Um," I pause, reflecting. There really is nothing that sets me aside from my peers. I am completely mediocre in everything I do. "I guess I'm alright at learning languages."

"Oh, cool! So, you speak multiple languages?" I nod. "Which ones?"

"I grew up speaking Vietnamese and learned French in middle school and, now, I'm taking Spanish." Faye is leaned over her mug, hand propping up her chin in spellbound concentration. I almost move backward.

"That's so cool. I grew up speaking Spanish, but I'm in French right now and I'm absolute shit. Like, if it weren't for my family, I probably wouldn't be able to remember any Spanish." I nod.

"Yeah." There is a significant beat of silence before I speak again. "What's your thing, then? Literature?"

"God, no."

"But, I thought you enjoyed reading."

"Reading? Yes. Analysis? Absolutely not. I just hate all the essay writing and annotating and other bullshit. It completely ruins the book. Suddenly, you don't care about the story or characters at all and it's all about making an A on an exam. Horrible." Throughout this, Faye is moving her hands around in the air. I imagine bits of her brain between her fingers, as if she's arranging her thoughts to make more sense. I take a bite of banana bread.