straight

Arlo, You Suck At Mini Golf

"I'm being easy on you today."

The voice came from behind you and your gaze moved from where you were playing with your fingernails to the face of Natalie Ray, who was carrying a white mug in her hand. When she stood on the other side of your table she pulled the chair from under the table and it made a loud, obnoxious scrape on the hardwood floor. She plopped onto the chair and the whipped cream on the top of the mug almost spilled over the edge, but she must have noticed before it did.

"Wow," she said. "That was close."

You reached across the table without responding and pulled the mug towards you, gazing into it. There was a pile of whipped cream on the top and chocolate drizzle running down the sides. You took a large whiff of it--it was a mocha.

You frowned. "You're being nice to me?" You asked.

Natalie Ray smiled and your heart sped. "It's sweeter," she said. "There's less of a coffee taste and more of a dessert flavor. I think you'll like it."

(You already knew you would)

Your lips turned up before you brought the drink to your lips and tilted the cup, feeling the rush of warm chocolate fall down your throat and the cold cream brush your nose. You knew the whipped cream was on your nose before you set the cup down. You loved mochas.

(Actually, you love mochas present tense.)

You didn't know why you didn't wipe the cream off your nose, but it was probably because you thought it would make her laugh. You thought it would help you two bond. You thought maybe you'd have a further connection with her.

You were right in your prediction, she laughed. It wasn't a hard laugh like you had seen before but it was light and amused, and you smiled before you reached for the napkin and wiped the dairy off your face.

An idea came into your head. I still don't know if it was a good idea or a bad idea, Arlo, but it was an idea. It would be the reason everything went perfectly and the reason everything failed. You were going to ask her to hang out.

"So, do you like art?" You asked, the steam from the mocha making your nose warm.

Natalie scowled. "I mean, yeah?" she reaponded, "Doesn't everyone?"

You gave a small smile, "You'd be surprised," you said before continuing, "Do you like mini golf, too?"

She smiled when she told you, "That's a strange assortment of questions, but yeah I do."

You took a deep breath and one more sip of coffee before you said, "Well, the art center is having an art display. Well, it's mini golf. Well, it's a mini golf course designed by artists."

She raised her eyebrows and kept silent.
"So I wanted to go to the display but nobody wanted to go with me so like, do you want to?"

(It hurts to write this exchange on paper, Arlo)

She gave a small amile, "So you can't get anyone to go to this thing with you, so I'm the obvious solution?"

She had asked this while you had the last of your mocha in your mouth and you sputtered a bit before you could respond.

"No no! I just, I um-"

Natalie laughed. "It's alright Arlo, I'd love to come with you."

You liked how she said your name, you realized. You smiled at her, a big genuine smile that was reserved for your best of friends-the friends you didn't have, or hadn't had for a few years

An hour later and you were at the Walker Art Center, an institute that held pieces from local artists and others, waiting for your turn on the course. The golf course (or art pieces?) had only enough space for a certain amount of people and it was first come first serve. Being that the course opened at 10:00 and it was 6:00 by the time you arrived, there were many people before you.