[3]
I had gone to Ben’s Burger at night three more times after that. Each time I scooted closer to where Coffee Boy sat and each time I tried engaging him in conversation. Each time he would give me short answers for everything I asked except the one I wanted the answer to the most but was too afraid to ask: his name. I hadn’t straight out asked him that because I had always found that question to be a bit demanding even though it might be needed in most cases. But I knew that he knew I was silently asking for him to tell me.
He had a nice voice, Coffee Boy. Like warm milk poured over chocolate in a pot heating on the stove. I liked it and half the reason I went those nights was just to hear him say “Good night.” The other half of the reason was because I needed to go and also because I now felt like I had a mission. A mission to learn Coffee Boy’s real name. A mission to get him to talk first. A mission to scoot so far over that I sat right next to him. A mission to become Coffee Boy’s friend.
***
Now I sat seven stools away from the boy holding the BB coffee between his fingers.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” he responded.
“I have a question for you,” I stated. He stayed quiet, telling me to go on. So I did. “Why do you come here? You’re here every night, aren’t you? Why?”
“Same reason as you,” he told me. “I can’t sleep.”
“Yes, but why?” I prodded. “I can’t sleep because of stress. And because my sister’s sick. And because I have a shitty roommate. But why can’t you sleep? Do you have insomnia?” I ask further. Coffee Boy was silent for a moment before he responded.
“I used to come here to get away from my dad. He’s a shitty dad but the worst at night. Probably shittier than your roommate. So I came here and had coffee. But then it became a habit. Even when he was okay it was engrained in my brain that he wasn’t. I couldn’t sleep, so I came here.”
I didn't say anything as I thought about his response and I finished my food. I had been asking him only a few questions per night. Not too many, worried that if I did I would scare him away or stop him from talking. Then I got up.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
A/N:
These chapters aren't edited, fyi. Like my other stories, I'll go back and edit once I'm done.
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-Nova.
