Sincerely

Cincere

"Alright, and will that be it for you ladies?" I ask, scribbling the last few details down on my notepad.

One of the girls at the table, the blonde one, giggles and grabs onto her friend, "Yeah, that'll be it."

Her friend slaps her arm and turns away from me covering her face.

"Okay, I'll go grab your drinks and be back with that." I say, pocketing my pen and backing away.

I skate away and I can hear shushed giggles and mutters from their table. The girls at the table, I'm not sure what their names are, they come here pretty often. They sit in the same booth and order the same things, and sometimes even request for me to be their waiter.  And I'm not stupid, I know why. I just don't bother to feed into it. They tip a pretty good amount, and that's all I really care about.

I place the order, grab the drinks, and skate back over towards their table. One of their head peeks over the booth, makes eye contact with me, and then quickly puts her head back down. I groan internally.

"Here you are." I place the drinks on the table. Same drinks as usual. Water, Sprite with no ice, and lemonade.

The front entrance doors chime and new group of people walk through.

I reach for my pen, "I'll be back with your food soon. It should be ready in about-"

"My friend wants to ask you a question." One of the girls blurts out. The short black haired one.

The friend in question hits her arm, pretty hard actually. The whole table burst into giggles and the girl stares at me. Or at least tries to. She looks red and nervous.  And like she doesn't really want to talk to me. I know what she's going to ask me, and I feel bad for the answer I'm going to give.

"Um," She stutters and fidgets with her fingernails, "Do you have like...a girlfriend?" 

I laugh, "No, I don't."

Her eyes light up and she glances back at her friends, who look like their encouraging whatever she's going to say next. I bite my tongue.

"Is it okay if I get your number then? It's okay if you don't want to I totally get it, I've just been wondering is all." She clicks her nails together.

"What's your name?" I ask her.

"Summer." She beams at me.

Now this next part, I've done it so much before but I never seem to get it right.

Do I start it off with, "I'm sorry but" or "actually I'm"? If I say sorry it sounds like I'm doing, or being, something wrong. Like it's inconvenient to her. Like a part of me is inconvenient. If I say "actually I'm" it makes it seem like I was giving off that I wasn't gay. Like I was supposed to like girls. Maybe I'm reading into it too much.  Let's just get this over with.

I smile and pull out my notepad and write down my number, "Cincere."

She looks at me, "Sincerely what?"

I hand her the paper, "Me. That's my name. We can be friends, but we can't be anything more. I'm gay."

We could've heard a fork drop from the kitchen. Well, at least that's what it felt like. The silence after was so deafening it made my eardrums ring. I still have the paper in my hand, and I try to smile while awkwardly still trying to hand it to her. But she just glances at me and back at her friends.

She forces out a chuckle, "You're gay? Really?"

I shrug, "Yup. Is it surprising?"

Her friend, the blonde, sits up and looks at me, "I mean, you don't really seem..."