Don't Cry Over Spilled Coffee

The world is a library, each person a book; some are more difficult to read than others; some have locks on the cover, and some aren’t as interesting. Yet if you judge them by the cover, you might never know what they are really about. I made that mistake once, and I’m a literature professor. Though, I suppose that spending my days lecturing at Harvard and reading in the library doesn’t offer opportunities to get to know someone. One morning, the summer sun glowed against the leaves and cast a grasshopper green filter over my office. The bookcases stared at me as I held The Odyssey for the third time in a row with my brown Oxfords on the floor and my ankles crossed on the desk. A stack of graded papers and a stack of ungraded papers lie at my elbow. No lectures today, but I knew I’d stay up late grading the rest of the papers.

“Ugh. Don’t listen to the woman, Odysseus. She’ll trick you.” I sighed. “You can’t trust her,” I mumbled. I often muttered such things even though I knew what happened anyway. I put the book down and flexed my dark hand, which had become sore from holding the Greek volume. It was three o’clock. Already late in the day. Eesh, why am I feeling guilty for taking a break I so clearly deserve?

A crunch echoed in the room as I bit out of a dull green apple that bore raised porous blotches. All the natural grown apples had them.

Knock knock!

I jumped, nearly dropping the apple, and slipped my shoes back on. “Who— mmh,” I chewed and swallowed the bite. “Ahem, who is it?”

“It’s Skye, Virgil! You forgot you had lunch with your sister?”

“Oh. Well, you can come on in. It’s just me here.” I scratched my head.

Skye turned the knob and threw the door open. Okay, so she was a little annoyed.

“In my defence, I thought it was tomorrow.” I held my hands up.

“What are you doing?” The sea-green eyes with brown flecks swam around the room.

“Enjoying the last hours of my Sunday?”

She cocked her head at the red volume. “You need to get out more. You practically live here.”

“Not practically. I do.” I flashed a facetious grin. “Not all of us run around the city planning garden weddings.”

“Come on. I knew you’d forget, so I’m here to get you out of here myself.”

“Fine.” I took off my loosened tie and left my suit jacket on the chair. “Let’s go.” I stole the apple from the desk before leaning on the bookcase. I had to lock the door, didn’t I? Skye rolled her eyes. “There’s also someone I want you to meet.”

“Oh, no. Not another one.” I turned the lock, my keys jangling.

“She’s a friend of a friend.” We walked down the empty oak halls.

“Skye, why can’t a man enjoy the solitude of a weekend and read his Greek legends?” I shoved my hands in my pockets.

“I’m not saying you can’t, but ever since Lauren broke up with you—”

“I have been recharging my social batteries.”

“By avoiding your favourite book bars and the Starbucks across the street that you guys first met?”

“That Starbucks has terrible coffee since this guy Patrick started working there.”

“Yeah, right. You don’t drink your caramel frappuccinos anymore because Patrick works there. Just admit it. It’s been months, and you’ve been avoiding any chance you have of meeting someone you might like. You got to get out there again, not hang around here like the hermit I know you’re not.”

I opened the door, and we continued striding across the green campus.

“I’m fine. Maybe I don’t want to be in a relationship right now.” I clicked my tongue.

Ding! “Hold on. I got a text.”

“Is it Paul?” I threw away the stem of my apple.

“No, my friend of a friend can’t make it. She’s asking to reschedule.”

“Saved by the phone.”

“You’re still meeting her. Seriously, I think you’d get along. She publishes books. You study them.”

“Wow, I should just ask her to marry me, and you can plan the wedding.”

“Virgil.”

“I’m not asking for her number.”

“Yes!” Skye raised her fists in victory. I chuckled. She and Athena would’ve gotten along; love and war, whether with Greek armies or pricy caterers, were their specialities. During lunch, she talked about this wedding she was arranging for this lawyer couple, and then she went on about her fiance Paul. She was my big sister, and she knew that I liked hearing other people talk more than I liked talking myself. It was about ambience. People talking even though I wasn’t engaging still made me feel at home and the opposite of lonely. As long as I didn’t need to contribute, that was okay.

We parted for the rest of the day, but not without Skye reminding me I had a “not-date” date Friday night. I went back to my office. I picked up the book. And then I couldn’t read because my sister’s voice accused me of being a hermit. She was right. I liked my coffee. So did Lauren. Patrick was an excuse to avoid being reminded of her. Now I was craving caramel. I flapped my lips. Book bars are where I could catch someone reading the same book and babble together.

Fine. I can be “out there”. I can get a cup of coffee. I can sit and read where other people do the same thing. I unhooked my mocha leather jacket and cracked my knuckles. I could probably stop by a B&N for a few books before going to the Book Elf…

I skipped down the stairs outside. “Watch out, people. Because Virge is on the splurge.” I was cooler outside now. Blue jays swooped up into trees. Squirrels scurried around, fighting about the acorns. The cicadas were buzzed like a broken air conditioner. I got my special cup of joe with lingering nostalgia, but at least I went after four months. It was never too late for coffee. I was out like a light no matter what. Skye made a lot of jokes about how I breathed caffeine like some hybrid human. By the time I reached my second favourite place on Earth. I started to feel better.

Until I bumped into someone, spilling the last of my coffee and hers.

“Oh, come on.” She dropped her book bag.

“Great.” I looked down at my now frappe shirt. And I had just dropped off the dry cleaning this morning. My week was busy enough.

“Where was your head in the clouds?” She rubbed her blouse with a tissue.

“I was walking. What were you doing?” I threw my hands in the air.

“Ugh. Enjoying my new books.” She gave up on removing the stain even by a minuscule amount. She rubbed her freckled brow.

I threw my cup in the trash. She did the same, nearly hitting me.

I rolled my eyes.

She groaned. “I was saving this blouse for a date.”

“Well, I’m sure your boyfriend will understand.” I rubbed my neck. “I need to teach a lecture in an Imagine Dragons t-shirt.”

She huffed. “I don’t have a boyfriend. And Imagine Dragons is overrated.”

I tittered. “Overrated? Are you joking?”

“Hey, they're great, don’t get me wrong, but their songs sound kinda the same. Gang of Youths has more going on.”

“Okay. Right.” I put my hands on my hips.

She sighed. “Well, I’m going to try soap on this stain while you contemplate your bad music taste.”

I pulled my head back as she picked up her books and headed towards the Starbucks on the right of the entrance. The nerve. No wonder she didn’t have a boyfriend. I went to buy a t-shirt, so I wouldn’t need to look like an idiot with an imprint of Mars painted on a good shirt. There was one with “I’m booked” written in ivory on a blue background. After changing my t-shirt in the bathroom, I picked up the books I had in mind and suddenly felt like going back home instead of Book Elf. I’d had enough social interactions for the day.

“Hey, I’m sorry.”

I turned around to see the Gang of Youths girl, standing behind me.

She ran a hand through her red hair. “I just had a bad day, and I wasn’t looking where I was going. On top of it, I insulted you for no reason, even though I meant what I said about the music.” She blew out a breath. “I didn’t want you to walk away thinking I’m a rude opinionated woman who blames people for her accidents.”

“No, that’s…that’s okay. I guess, people shouldn’t judge each other on first impressions.” Which is exactly what I did. I kicked myself mentally. “Everybody has their days.” I shrugged.

She formed a small smile. “Um, why don’t I buy you another coffee? I owe you one anyway.”

Uh-oh. Another chance to be disappointed by a seemingly nice person. “I was just about to…” You got to get out there again, not hang around here like the hermit I know you’re not. “Yeah, sure, why not? And I’ll cover the coffee. You were right. I had my head in the clouds a little.”

“Ugh. You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

I chuckled. “Fair enough.” We ended up near the window in armchairs. She crisscrossed her ankles on the chair as if she were at home. She got a black coffee with vanilla foam, and I went for my usual. The rain tapped on the windows from outside.

“Well, Gang of Youths, I’m Virgil. I teach Greek and English lit.”

“Stacy. I read books for a living.”

I laughed. “What a job. That’s a dream right there”

“I know, right?” She tilted her cup to her lips, wiping the foam off her mouth. “I was negotiating with an author today for a big deal, and it turns out he was using it to get to another publishing house. I got a lecture from my boss.” She raised her eyebrows. “Honestly I was going to curl up on my couch and read a book. It’s hard trying to have a life and move up in the world at the same time.”

“We do what we love, but there are sacrifices.”

“Exactly.”

“Tell me about it.” I crossed my legs. “I remember poring over Orpheus and Euridice while my roommates were shamelessly flirting with multiple girls at wild parties. Not my thing, but I still didn’t have time to meet someone else another way.”

She hummed. “So, why were you in the clouds?”

“I’m trying to distract myself.”

“From…”

“I’m trying to have a life, but it didn’t work out last time. Everyone in my life is moving on, and I eat apples over The Odyssey in my office instead of book bars where I can meet people.”

“Burn me once, burn me twice, it’s all the same. First the fire, then the ice.”

“Whew, you said it.” I tilted my head. I savoured the gulp of the warm, silky drink in my hand.

“I’ve been through it. I’m a pretty face, but some people can’t understand that I also like people with more than half a brain.”

“A hard find.”

“Thank you. One guy called me ‘intimidating’ and ‘pretentious’ because I read books. Sorry, what?”

I quirked my lips. “Of course, if you do find someone with more than half a brain, you need to hope they have more than half a heart.”

“Oof. What did she do?”

“She called me ‘closed-up’ and ‘boring’ because I didn’t like her friends or have my own.” I shifted and cleared my throat.”

“That’s a low blow.” She shook her head.

“Looks like we’ve both been misunderstood.” I watched how she played with a stray strand of her loose hair, and how the warm Edison bulbs shined on her hair. We talked about our favourite authors for a while and the books we got, before the clock’s hour hand was at seven.

“Well, looks like it’s getting late, but if you want to meet up again. Here’s my number.” We both exchanged numbers by writing them on our cups, and I fell into bed as soon as I got to my apartment near the university. I meant to call her the next day, but I had to rush early in the morning to finish grading the papers, and her card got lost. And I liked her too. Now I was going to look like a jerk. The week passed by, and I dreaded Friday night more and more as I could only think of the girl who finally got me. Skye called me to make sure I was coming. I almost didn’t answer. So after my last class finished around noon, I walked to my place and changed into jeans and a linen shirt. I’d made a deal with myself: be polite, ask questions, and then fake a stomach bug halfway through chicken piccata.

I marched bravely down the sunny lane. My legs lead me step by step to Rhapsody Bistro. Who knew you could think of a million excuses in five minutes? For a moment, I wanted a cyclop to walk into the restaurant. That would’ve been great. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

But then, in a moment I knew I didn’t want to leave.

“Stacy?” I blinked.

“Virgil!” Stacy started, her chair scraping on the floor.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Skye’s eyebrows shot up.

“We spilled each other’s coffee and exchanged numbers.”

“I thought we hit it off, but he never called me back.” Stacy pressed her lips.

“You didn’t call her back?”

“I wanted to.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Stacy cocked her head, more disappointed than angry.

“I…”

“Well?” Skye raised an eyebrow.

“I lost the number. I didn’t put it on the phone, and when I was in a rush the next morning, I lost it. I kicked myself so many times because I didn’t even know your last name.”

Stacy seemed to be suppressing a smile before bursting into laughter. “I’m sorry. I just… I thought…” For some reason, I laughed too. “We just said we shouldn’t just people on first impressions, and yet I thought you were—”

“A rude nerdy guy who pretends to like people?”

“Something like that.” She blushed.

“Well, I didn’t exactly think you were on a picnic either when we met, yet here we are.”

“Here we are.”

Skye picked up her phone. “You know, what, ooh, I need to make sure the cake for this wedding is picked up. You two have fun, and I’ll see you later?”

“See you later, Skye.” I rolled my eyes.

“Bye.” She rushed out of there like the building was on fire.

“Your sister’s nice.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s great.”

“So…”

“So…”

“What do you think of Hemingway?”

I pulled up a chair. “I think he could’ve used more coffee.”

“Oookay. Back up. He lived on whiskey.”

“Why do you think his work is so psychedelic?”

She cracked up. “All right, no.”

The world is a library, and sometimes a good book is hard to find. But if you take a risk, maybe you get some hints that the right one had meant to find you all along.