LIPS OF FUMES

| 02. TEA DRUNK DEBATES AND BLATANT DISTASTE

C H A P T E R  0 2
TEA DRUNK DEBATES AND BLATANT DISTASTE
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     ON THE TREK BACK TO THE café, conversation was nonexistent—with the exception of Luke occasionally popping up with a godawful joke. The moon hangs full in the sky. Hazy streams of light cast distortedly long shadows behind us.

     Luke slides open the glass doors, the movement of the glass causing a series of soft chimes to ring through the desolate café as the four of us make way inside. Adri places her splayed hands flat on the counter, heaving her arms and clambering over to the other side, while Luke and I take our respective seats on either sides of Zareen before her. Within seconds, the delicate sound of brewing tea breaks the heavy silence prior to when Adri turned on the boiler.

     Zareen fetches an unopened box of chamomile stacked on the counter, handing us each a tea bag. "On a scale of one to watching Luke attempt to bake, how entertaining was today?"

     I put on an exaggerated pondering face while Luke scowls fantastically in my peripheral. "Though Luke's cooking skills must be exceedingly unusual, today would've broken the scale. I don't think I've done something this enjoyable in my life."

     It's essentially true; I haven't.

     For specific reasons.

     I swallow slowly, directing my gaze down.

     "Dandy," Adri chirps, "because you're not getting rid of us anytime soon, Princess. We've already let you in on The Dock; there's no space for backing out now. No excuses."

     "Yes, and your life would've been incredibly monotonous if it weren't for us giving you a kickstart," Luke adds with a nod. "You would've ended up in some stuffy office doing paperwork all day. And speaking of—you don't have a job as of now, do you?"

     "Um," I say.

     "That'll be the schedule tomorrow," Zareen assures.

     Abruptly, a tide of gratitude envelopes me; I feel endlessly indebted to my three newfound friends for everything they'd done. Similar to what Luke said—if it weren't for them, I'd be in so much shit right now. I have no prior understanding in living alone whatsoever, with the exception of a college dorm—though that experience was traumatizing as it is, with meals consisting of nothing but insipid, diluted ramen and water that tasted like plastic (some cheap vodka on a good day), and it technically isn't being entirely alone, with the wall-shaking moans that quake the whole building every night.

     "Oh, shit—tomorrow's Monday; I have work at Flora's. Can't make it to your job hunt, Princess, sorry."

     "Me neither; I've got a shift throughout the whole day tomorrow," Adri grimaces. "Dad's going to be onto me if I skip more shifts, and I can only bribe Nik once a week with the correct amount of cocaine, and I've been wanting him to cover for me on Sunday for yoga classes. You know I can't miss that." Apparently, yoga's a big thing here.

     "No worries, I'm free," Zareen chirps. "You technically only need me, anyways—the others don't know shit about finding jobs. They graduated eons ago and have been working forever." She pauses. "Oh, and speaking of, you're coming with us to yoga this weekend, Princess. Watching Luke try to impress our supposedly smoking hot yoga teacher is very entertaining."

     "I am spontaneously grateful for your existence," I declare, "and, of course. I don't have anything better to do. Just don't force me to wear tights."

     "One of the thousands of perks of having homo sapiens as friends, Michael," Adri chimes, enunciating 'homo sapiens' in a tone she'd use with the word 'rattlesnake'. She pours boiled water into each of our mugs and takes the chamomile teabags from us for steeping.