365 Cups of Coffee

Twenty-Two: Latte Art

    Saturday morning, I wake up and ask my parents if they can give me a lift to Portsmouth.  Although I tell them I’m going to meet Daniel, that’s not true.  I’m going to just go alone, walk around, sit, write a bit.  I tell them I’ll text them when or if I need a ride home, and they agree.  So we drive to Portsmouth at about 11am, and they drop me off in the park, where I say I’ll be meeting up with Daniel.  Then they go off to run some errands, and I go off to get some coffee, $30 in my pocket and notebook in hand.

    I order a latte, coconut mocha.  I’m surprisingly one of the only people in the cafe at the time, so she tells me she has a surprise for me and to wait a little bit for the coffee.  I buy a small espresso gelato and eat it while I wait for the coffee.  After she makes it, she hands it over to me.  She’s created a bit of a drawing in the foam, a sleeping cat.  Latte art.  I grin, thanking her and taking it from her.  I take a picture with my mom’s cell phone, which I am using again today.  Maybe it’s time to get my own phone.

    Once I finish my gelato and coffee, I get up and walk around the stores, looking at books, or clothes I can’t have.  Then I walk out towards the park and sit down on the fountain, spreading out my notebook and notes for the novel I’m writing.  But as I write, I hear a familiar voice, and I look up, and sure enough, Daniel is standing near the ocean, Logan right next to him, and they’re laughing about something, looking out at the water.

    “Daniel!” I say, calling him over, but he doesn’t seem to hear.

    I didn’t expect to see him here, with Logan no less, but I wrap up my writing and jog over to him and Landon.  Today just got better. 

    Except when I walk over to them, I can tell something is wrong.  I can smell a heavy odor lingering in the air around them, and they’re laughing easily over some stupid joke I heard Logan make. 

    “Hey,” he says, grinning.

    “Why didn’t you tell me you were hanging out with Logan today?  We could have hung out together,” I ask, smiling at him, but all the time demanding answers in my head.

    A shadow passes over his face, and that’s when, for the first time, I notice the redness in his eyes, the wideness of his pupils.  I feel my eyebrows involuntarily raise with understanding.

    “Are you . . . high?” I ask.

    Suddenly the heavy smell lingering in the air is easily identifiable, and the semi-detached way Daniel is acting: no hug in greeting, laughing at some minor joke, not telling me he was coming here today.  His mouth hangs open, and he moves it, but nothing comes out, like he doesn’t want to explain.  And no, I’m sure he doesn’t.  I feel bitter inside, like everything I know about this world is suddenly spinning out of control.  I thought Daniel was clean.  As straight as they got. 

    “Is this why you didn’t tell me about your friendship with Logan?” I spit.  “Because you just . . . Get together and get high?  I should have known the moment I saw his friends.  Of course he wasn’t going to be straight when he has such easy access.  Of course not.  But I thought better of you.”

    Surprisingly, Logan is the one that looks more concerned, which, in some ways, just makes me angry.

    “Look, I can explain,” Daniel protests, finally.

    “Shh,” Logan says, brushing him aside.  “That’s not going to help.  Yes, Aspen, everyone has their secrets.  Just like you moved away from Georgia because you witnessed a school shooting.  Yes, I know about that.  It’s not that hard to piece it together when it was such a big deal in the media for months after.”