Brandon. Yes, THAT Brandon.

Everything, All at Once

        "That employee was cute, Brandon. Let me tell ya," Chris jokes. She holds two tiny baby items and strolls to the checkout. Got that right, sweetheart. "Was he looking at me?"

        "I don't know, Chris," I shake my head. I check my phone. Only 11:43. Sigh. Five hours and seventeen minutes until I can see Logan again. Chris pulls me along to the counter. "Hey, I'll be with you until about three because I have to move shit for my cousin's room. She's coming in, like, a week or something."

        "Why's she living with you again? Oh, shoot. I forgot my Sephora gift card."

        "Aiden's mom said she was getting into trouble," I shrug. Honestly, it makes me a little disappointed. Aiden was my other best friend when we were little. The three of us--Aiden, Mitchell, and I-- would play at his house for hours. The memory I recall most thoroughly was our spy game. We had spy names, too. Mitch was Mississippi, Aiden was Abraham, I was Babylon or something. Our most important mission was finding out what Michael was doing behind his door. Now that I think of it, it was probably watching gay porn. I shudder. I'm glad we never actually found out at ten years old.

        "Hmm. Probably drugs." 

        "What? Oh, I don't know. Maybe. I don't know what she's up to. Childhood friend. It's gonna suck." I put a pack of gum on the conveyer belt and Chris scoffs. "What? I'll pay you back. Anyway, I don't know what my mom will have me doing so I'll call you when I'm done."

        "Okay...? You're acting like this is a big deal," Chris laughs. 

 * * * *

I stand by Starbucks, checking my phone every other minute. I did say five, right? Did I give him the right location? I said west Starbucks. I'm sure of it.

        It's 5:09 when I my phone buzzes. "Sorry. I can't make it. I feel so bad but at least I have your number, so I'll see you around :( -Logan Price" A drop of rain falls on my iPhone screen. My whole body wilts like an enervated plant. The thought of meeting up with Logan made me so happy and now he can't even make it. I did kind of plan it short notice. At least I know his last name. I start the short journey back to my car.

        "I'm sorry. That was mean," I hear someone say from behind me. That little... I angle around and see Logan with a cavalier smirk painted on his lips. "Your shoulders slumped so noticeably. I felt bad." 

        "I...I have no idea what to say," I chuckle. What's wrong with me? I can't configure a complete sentence. Is this what they call butterflies in the stomach? Logan is making me forget the English language by just existing, just by standing here. "We should-- well, rain. It's raining."

        "Sure. I'll buy," Logan nods. We go inside the warm little Starbucks building. I picked this one for a reason. It's not by a highly populated area, and nobody I know comes here. 

        "You're not buying," I say once we stand in front of the counter. He raises an eyebrow. "Seriously, Logan. I'm buying. What do you want?"

        "I promise, I'll still think of you as macho if you let me buy you a drink," Logan assures me. He laughs. "Macho. I've never said that before. Did I use it correctly?"

        "What? Y-yea..."

        "You're cute when you blush," Logan smiles.

        We end up talking for two hours straight. He moved here a little over 8 months ago. 'Football is not nearly as exciting here,' he explains at one point. Well, of course not. It's soccer. He says he used to run back home. Turns out Logan plays the piano. I tell him I've never played an instrument.