Watching for Comets

Saturday

At 5:30 that evening, defying all expectations, Jason strolled through the front door of the bar. His jeans were either the same pair as before or an exact replica, but he wore a more casual, loose fit t-shirt and, to my relief, a warmer jacket. Seeing that I was busy serving another customer, he claimed a seat at the bar and waited patiently. I acknowledged his presence with a glance, but was too nervous to maintain eye contact for more than a second.

"What can I get for you?" I tried to sound casual. Not helping, he cocked his head to the side and restarted that serene stare.

"Surprise me."

I chewed my lip around the piercing. From his previous order, I knew he liked a sweet cocktail, but that was all I had to go on.

"If you like it, I'll like it," he promised, which was sweet but total crap. He had no idea what my tastes were like. Even Julia had different tastes than I did.

"Any allergies?"

"Nope."

Resigned, I took out a highball glass. I figured I'd stick with something sweet and fruity. His eyes trained on me, the smile unfaltering, as I poured vodka, Midori, amaretto, and cranberry juice into the glass, then topped it off with a splash of soda water. When I placed the finished drink in front of him, his face spoke excitement. As he took his first sip, I distracted myself with some cleaning.

"Whoa, that tastes exactly like cherry Kool-Aid."

"Right?" I allowed myself a moment of excitement. Such an underrated drink.

"Really? What's it called?" a customer a few seats down spoke up.

"Killer Kool-Aid."

"Can we get one too?"

"Sure thing." I ignored her boyfriend, who rolled his eyes at her choice.

She shoved his arm. "You'll love it, don't kid yourself," she teased. "That guy loves it."

"Yeah, why didn't you card him?" he asked in non sequitur.

Jason and I exchanged glances. He let me answer, "He's a friend," and didn't seem upset by that phrasing.

"I was in your calc class first year," the other guy pointed out.

"That doesn't mean I know how old you are. You could be a precocious genius." As I served his girlfriend her drink, she burst into laughter, covering her mouth when he glared at her. A few minutes later, he conceded that the new drink was indeed pretty delicious.

Jason nursed his drink for a good hour, making chitchat with me about classes and other unobtrusive subjects. After an initial moment of disappointment, I realized he was protecting my privacy in front of the other customers. Unfortunately, they kept coming in and out. Although I longed to spend more time with him, it was nice enough just to see him again. When the ice cubes clinked at the bottom of his glass, he beckoned me over. Standing, he shoved a wad of cash into my palm and leaned across the bar.

"I'm going for dinner," he whispered. "Do you get a break?"

My heart fluttered at the implied invite. "Not until 9, and it's only for 15 minutes," I answered apologetically. The resulting disappointment was touching.

"Have you eaten?"

Was he looking at my stomach? Did I appear malnourished? "I'll have something later." That response didn't seem to assuage him, but he nevertheless didn't object.

"May I pick you up after work?" he asked instead.

I tried not to seem too eager as I nodded. The smile returned. He waved on his way out. As the door swung closed behind him, I flipped through the money in my hand and found that once again he had tipped me an extra dollar.