The Start of Everything After

Nationals

It's Saturday morning and I feel like coffee, and not the burnt dirt tasting sludge my mom brews. We leave for tournament in two days so I need to get some of next week's homework done ahead of time, so that I don't have to do it in a dingy hotel room at eleven pm when everyone else is having fun. But let's face it, if I'm not doing homework I'll probably be sleeping. My plan is to get as much done as possible on my date this morning with... a Cup a' Joe.

I head out in baggy sweats and an oversized hoodie. It's Sunday and why kid myself? I have no one to impress.

"Sweetie," my mother calls as I'm headed out the door, "are you sure you don't want to change? Or just stay in and make pancakes and we can talk. About soccer..." when I don't answer she continues, sounding increasingly desperate "or boys?" She smiles weakly. She's trying, I'll give her that. It's just that I'm tired of giving her chances.

"Mom, I really wish I could but I have to meet Kacie afterwards for our project." There is no project. I know that. My mom knows that. I'm fooling no one. She sighs which means today I won. Today she's giving up. Today I get away with it. I take it as my cue to go, but right now, as I walk to my car all I feel is guilty.

It's getting harder and harder to lie to her. But maybe that's a good thing, maybe it means I have a conscience, for now at least. Who knows the type of liar I'll turn into later on in life, if this is just the beginning. But right now I'm not thinking of that, I'm thinking of delicious warm aromatic toasty non sludgey goodness.

I drive to the local coffee shop. There's two coffee shops in town but the one I go to is way better, the other one should be ashamed to even call itself one.

I can't help the tears as they escape and roll down my face, rogue travelers off to better lands. I wish- I don't know... I wish things... were different. Things used to be different when the worst thing was a scraped knee or someone stealing your class seat. If this is getting older than this sucks. I used to get along with my mom but things haven't been the same recently. Rocky. I can't pinpoint the day our relationship changed. It was gradual. Painful. And the worst thing is I have no goddamn clue how to fix it. Our relationship was much like getting a sunburn. At first you don't notice it and then as time goes in the more it stings and then eventually it's all at once.

Too late.

By the time I get to the cafe I check in the visor mirror and no surprise; my eyes are red rimmed and puffy. But there's nothing I can do about it, it's not like I bring concealer everywhere I go for occasions like this. Who am I kidding? I don't even own concealer.

I get in line, still crying softly, I can't help it. I distract myself by ogling at the guy in front of me. I can only see his back but by god is it a nice back. I will admit that the only way I know this is that he's wearing a shirt so tight it's a bit cringey. But hey! When you have a back that nice... I don't finish my thought because Mr. Muscle-Back turns around.

"God damn, it's you again." I say under my breath and quickly wipe away tears, hoping he won't notice them.

"You following me again, Montoya?" I ask, for the second time in my life, having a feeling it won't be the last because we seem to run into each other everywhere we go. So much it's almost eerie. "A little petty don't you think" I continue, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I fail and either he doesn't notice or more what i suspect; he pretends not to, to spare my embarrassment. Which is even worse somehow.

"Just here to get coffee." he says casually "I mean, we live in the same bloody town, there are two coffee shops, the other shit and overpriced. Me following you? No. Annoying coincidence? Yes." Even still, I have my doubts.