Coffee Shop (spontaneous updates)

Four; trevor

        Trevor peed himself… again.  A habitual nightly routine it was, he’d wake with clammy palms, a sweaty forehead and a wet bed. It was the same dream, no, nightmare every night. It was the same person with those same hands, with that same smirk and soothing voice.

        She called him a big boy at the age of 6.

        He didn’t feel all that big, more like a blooming dandelion, but he’d always smile cutely anyways and try to understand what the hell was even going on.

        “Everything happens for a reason” he was told by his mother.

        So for the longest time he was forced to believe his first grade teacher touching him during recess and “afterschool homework time” that was never even spent doing homework had all happened because he had this master book written out about him and his life, and it was somehow in some way supposed to make him stronger— better.

        It didn’t.

      Therapy made him cope, not stronger. It made him not feel so fucking worthless, not better. It made him not take Advil with a 6 pack of beer at 4 in the morning when he should have been sleeping but could never get his head to stop thinking.

        Thinking about her. It would never stop, like this continuous horror film playing in his head. He was the one guy in the audience glued to his seat in terror while everyone had left for home because they just couldn’t understand what was so scary.

        But he could. Every second he was left alone, he’d shake and squirm and try to for once… just to feel human.

        It was awful really, it had been years since it happened and he just couldn’t seem to let go. Maybe it was because his parents started putting him through therapy not for his wellbeing but so that people would stop thinking their child was such a depressing screw up. Trevor felt like that often— a screw up.

        A disappointment, a failure, his parents had this whole thing sketched out in blue prints. Trevor was going to grow up to be a fine looking young man, and yes he did fill out well but appearance is only a physicality, and is pretty much useless to a boy who has an ‘I’m ugly’ state of mind. He was supposed to get a degree in law, go to med school maybe, graduate high school with honors at least. Perhaps even be the captain of the football team, run for president or start a club on social justice and build schools for the children in Africa.

        His parents wanted him to be the best.

        But Trevor was not, Trevor was simply a screw up.

        He slowly got up, and stripped the bed of the moist sheets and went to the linen closet and got out another bed sheet. He was going to run out soon. Throwing the soiled bed sheet into the hamper and the putting the new on onto the bed he went to the bathroom and hopped in the shower stripping off his boxers along the way.

        Pee, he smelled like pee.

        Drying his hair with the towel that was hung on the hook beside the sink, he exited the bathroom and put on a fresh new pair of boxers and slowly slid into bed.

        About 5 minutes with his eyes closed his alarm clock rang, and he sighed heavily. Wetting his bed had become his personal body clock. He slammed it shut and pulled the covers over his head.

        The only thing he hated more than her was school.  

        It was just that everyone had a place; they had somewhere to be and a set group of friends, while he’d make small talk with this one freshman girl named Cindy besides the fact he’s a year older and say hello to the kind lunch lady and his occasional teacher here and there.

        Trevor had a hard time trusting people. He had a hard time socializing, his therapist had told him to try and talk to new people. No one in particular, it could even be a simple hello to the crossing guard that works on his street. So he did, he’d say hi to the crossing guard, and even talk to the customers that come stop by Donut Time.

        He would talk to Eros, Lilah and the odd person or two that didn’t seem too intimidating. He wasn’t afraid of females; of course he was a little apprehensive towards them considering what had happened to him, but he would give himself credit when he was able to hold a decent conversation with the opposite sex. He called it progress, and it was really.

        He grabbed a granola bar and headed out the door. He wasn’t invisible at school, he wasn’t popular either— he was just kind of there. Loafing through the tenth grade and counting down the day till summer, because counting down to graduation would take pretty much forever in his eyes rather than the two and a little but years it actually was.

        “Trevor over here!” Cindy called over to him. She stood by a tree outside the main entrance. He smiled at her and walked towards her rather large body. She was bigger than most girls, but happier if anything. She was with her boyfriend, their hands were clasped and he leaned down and kissed her cheek.

        “How’ve you been?” Trevor asked her, giving a polite nod towards her lover’s direction.

      “Good, I’ve been good. Hey, listen me and some friends were getting together tomorrow at my place you should come. I don’t think you have any plans for a Friday night anyways.” She laughed at her own joke, and yet one would assume she was calling him a loser with no plans but Trevor really was a loser with no plans.

        “I’m working tomorrow night, I don’t think I can.” He said knowing that social interaction just wasn’t for him. He was Bill Haverchuck from Freaks and Geeks except ten times weirder. Trevor needed a serious crash course on how to talk to people without his eyes having spasms and getting his sweating issue under control. Because pit stains weren’t exactly what you would call ‘cool’. Then again, Trevor wasn’t cool; he was a loser… and don’t forget a screw up.

        His life was pretty much one big joke.

        “Well, what time do you get off?”

        “My shift ends at 9.” He said a little hesitant, praying it’d be too late for him to come.  

        “That’s fine, come once your shifts over I don’t think anyone’s leaving before midnight anyways.” She said chirpily. Trevor obviously looked upset; he knew he should have just lied. “Come on Trevor, you need to get out more often. You just can’t be cooped up in your house, especially on a Friday night. It’ll be fun I promise and you could leave at any time.”  She said convincingly to a very unimpressed Trevor.

        “Okay okay, I’ll be there around 9, text me your address.” Trevor finally said, giving in. Cindy was pretty good at making a good argument.

        “Yes!” She squealed and waved a very excited goodbye and dragged her boyfriend towards class.

         At least this was progress.