Asymptote (bxb)

Chapter 22: Getting Even

From the second I had committed enough to this idea to start driving in a general direction, I knew that this was probably in the top ten worst ideas I've ever had, if not top three. I thought that just maybe, if Miles could meet him, he would understand. I wanted to prove to him that Cian wanted me; that he wasn't using me like Miles had said.

            "Where are you kidnapping me too?" He asked. We had covered the mats of the car in mud. The Buick got this weird smell when there was any moisture in the air, very musty. I cracked the windows down an inch to air it out while I drove through the roads, still slick with last night's rain-snow. It was that weird time of year where it was constantly dropping below freezing and rain could become snow at any minute.

            "Just coffee," I replied quietly, already uncertain in this decision.

            We drove the rest of the way in silence, except for when Miles had attempted to roll his window down the rest of the way to smoke, and I had to tell him over my dead body was he going to smoke in this car.

            The parking lot was surprisingly full for a Friday during work hours, and looking inside it seemed like retirees. And sure enough, there Cian was whisking around hurriedly. He had a sway to his walk that told me he was moving to whatever jazz song was currently playing. Miles remained thankfully oblivious to all of this.

            Miles followed behind me, and the bell chimed over our heads as I opened the door. Cian was too busy to turn and look. We continued inside and I seated us at a corner booth that was vacant on either side.

            "This is a bit more public than I was imagining," Miles said under his breath.

            "Friends go to places like this. Lake and I came here to talk once."

            "You would be BFF's with Lake," he retorted, his voice thick with contempt. I think Miles hated Lake because Lake was who Miles never could be. Gay, out, unconcerned about his perceived masculinity, and unashamed. The masculinity part I think was key because the rest of those things could be said about Beatle, yet Miles admired Beatle and hated Lake.

            "He's good company; you should try actually giving him a chance and getting to know him sometime," I replied, trying to remain unbothered by him as he rolled his eyes and scoffed in response. Considering the situation, I was about to impose upon possibly everyone in this coffee shop, I needed to remain calm.

            I watched Cian from a distance. He swerved around every pulled-out chair, dropped fork, and standing senior with ease. He had a permanent smile on his face. His hair had fallen into his eyes a bit, but his hands were too busy to fix it. He eventually turned towards our table, and his face lit up when he saw me, but immediately changed to confusion as his gaze fixed upon Miles. Miles followed my gaze to Cian and slumped back in his chair, seemingly exasperated.

            "You've got to be fucking kidding. You know what, I'm close enough to walk home. Thanks for nothing." Miles stood up to leave but I grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past me, holding up three fingers.

            "Three minutes. I skipped school and went down there for you, and I gave you three minutes. Give him three minutes. If you want to leave in three minutes, I will take you home. Or wherever you want to go," I quickly corrected.

            "Fine." He roughly yanked his arm from my grasp and tentatively sat back on the bench, his eyes trained on Cian approaching the table.

            I could see the excitement in Cian's eyes as he approached, but his fingers playing with the tie on his apron gave away his discomfort. It was obvious to me now that this was a mistake, but it was too late. We were already here, and he had already seen us.