The Trouble with Coffee...

Sleep evades me. I toss the covers off my body and slip out of bed. My hands fumble in the dark for socks and the pajama bottoms I half-heartedly threw near my hamper. The clock reads 3:45—too late and too early to really do anything, so I settle for a hot cup of tea and the low glow of the television to occupy my mind.

I let myself melt into the couch, cushions enveloping me. My eyes burn slightly, lids slipping closed every once in a while, but my mind hums and my leg bounces restlessly. I am an electrocuted potato: stagnant but coursing with energy. I check the clock again, which reads 4:20 and I’m no more tired than I was. Looks like a sign to light up.

Smoke fills the room, skewing the image flashing as it drifts in front of the T.V. screen. It’s lovely, the way the tendrils float and curl and seem to glance off solid objects without even touching them, just dancing above flat surfaces. Lovely. I could watch the smoke forever but the high rocks me to sleep and I give in to the heavy eyes and the quicksand couch.

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I wake up with a sore neck, sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting bars of shadow across my skin. Netflix is asking me if I’m still watching and my phone blinks next to me. There are quite a few unread texts from Carter. Apparently, I’ve slept all morning. It’s the vicious cycle of insomnia, unable to sleep when I’m supposed to or in a fucking coma. Carter wants to go do something today. I don’t know if I’m up for any of his activities—usually resulting in waking up in a stranger’s bathtub with a wicked hangover—but maybe we could go get a coffee. I could really go for a coffee.

All I text is a little emoji of a cup of coffee with a question mark. Carter knows me well enough that I barely have to speak for him to understand me, which is why he’s one of the only people I hang out with consistently. He texts back in seconds: I’m down. Meet U. Meet U means he’ll be there soon, but I still have to gather up my mask and pretend to be a person. Luckily, he doesn’t mind waiting. I would shower, but that’s too much effort, so I settle for washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting on some fresh clothes.

It’s cold, but I decide to walk anyway. I could use some exercise and I’m hoping the nip in the air will shock me awake. A little briskness never killed anybody…quickly. The coffee place isn’t that far from either of our apartments, probably why it’s our favorite spot, not to mention it’s the only coffee house open after 6:00 pm. I’ve always felt like The Mean Bean was my place, home away from home, always warm and smelling of coffee beans roasting and sweet drinks being poured. I love it there. The only bad thing about it now is that it’s where I met her.

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It was just a regular Tuesday, walking in with Carter prepared to stay all day writing, and talking, and ordering way too many rounds. It was just a regular Tuesday, then I saw her—Nina. She was sitting at our table, not that I cared about that, her computer and sketchbook and pens all strewn in front of her. Her hair was blonde and short, though she had to keep tucking it behind her ears to keep it out of her eyes. I remember silently praying that she’d lift her head so I could see her eyes. They were hazel by the way, deep and layered and striking, beneath sharp expressive eyebrows.

I noticed her a few times before we ever spoke. Nina was the one who made the first move, but tops are my type so that makes sense. I had glanced her way a few too many times that day, with no intention of speaking to her, just admiring. I guess she got sick of my stares, cause she stood up rather dramatically and marched over to me, looking down at me with those eyes (an extremely effective paralytic). My heart jumped into my throat and got stuck there as I waited for her to say something…I did not expect her to ask me out.

Our relationship moved fast, and before I knew it, she was the most important person in my life. We spent almost every minute of every day together. Carter told me to take it slow but I’m not one to take good advice. Nina was wild and fun and sexy. There was no saying no to her, not to moving in together, not to getting a goddamn cat together, or to her following her heart to go take pictures of Antarctica. Now I have the cat and the apartment and this fucking hole in my chest, and the worst part is, I can’t stop missing her.

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I take a minute to kick the snow off my boots before pushing through the door, the little ding of the bell alerting Carter to my arrival. He waves me over enthusiastically, clearly already caffeinated. I stroll over to the booth while taking off my scarf and jacket. Carter grins wide and it warms me up like a shot of sunshine.

“Check it. I’ve been working on this for like an hour and I think I’ve finally got it.” He points down at the sketchbook in front of him. The page is covered in one of his characters in different poses with different expressions.

“Wow. She looks really good.” I smile weakly, but it’s enough. Thank God Carter doesn’t expect much talking from me.

“Thank you, but their pronouns are 'they/them' now actually.”

“Ah nice. Very woke. Very in.” I tease playfully.

“I mean yeah but I was inspired by you.” He says sheepishly, avoiding my eyes.

“Oh. Cool. That’s very cool.” I try to smile warmly, stretch my lips further than I normally would—he deserves it.

Carter was the first person I came out to. I didn’t mean to, but when we would hang out, we would talk about everything. Hanging out with Carter was like confession; I would tell him things I didn’t mean to tell anyone and he would hold my secrets. He never made me feel weird or wrong. It was fine that I was bi (pan actually but I didn’t know that yet) and when I told him I felt kinda like a girl/boy hybrid he looked it up and found the word nonbinary for me. He is my closest confidant and best friend.

“You need a coffee.” Carter’s voice snaps me out of thought and reminds me of my need for caffeine.

“No fucking kidding.”

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We stay until Luther kicks us out, which is at least an hour after closing. I lean against Carter on the walk home, bitching about the cold. He laughs at my suffering, but I don’t mind. He's too pure to be mad at. I don’t want to be alone tonight, last night was too hard. Hopefully, with Carter there I won’t have time to wallow.

I curse at my frozen fingers as I try to unlock my door. Carter holds back laughter and I periodically glare at him. Finally, the lock clicks and I swing the door open, greeted by a starving and neglected Miyagi.

“God that cat is loud,” Carter’s comment sends a sharp pain through my chest.

Nina had been bugging me about a cat almost from the first moment we got together. I remember when I finally relented; we were lying in bed cuddling and Nina was tracing my few-month-old top surgery scars.

“I like your chest.” She whispered, and it felt like lightning racing up my spine. It was like a dream, having a flat chest with a girl I loved laying on it. “The only thing that would make it better is a kitten, right here.” She poked the center of my chest.

“Ha yeah right.”

“I’m serious. We should get a cat. Be like a little family.”

“Oh really, just lean in to the stereotypical lesbian relationship.” She giggled against my neck, her voice ringing in my ears like church bells. She is my religion, and in this moment, I realize I’d do anything for her, including adopting a screaming Siamese kitten.

When we went to the shelter, there weren’t that many kittens. I was drawn to an energetic black one, but Nina immediately went over to this little crying mess in the corner and scooped him up. She brought him over to me, this wailing squirming kitten, and looked at me with those fucking eyes,

“Pleeaase Kell. Look at him, all pathetic. No one’s gonna pick him. He needs us.”

I sighed, the black kitten batting at my ankles while would be Miyagi cried and I couldn’t tell if he was crying cause of being held, or because the other cat was here, or because he has brain damage, but the girl I love had a death grip on him like a protective mother and I knew he was coming home with us.

“He is pretty pathetic, huh?”

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I shake Miyagi’s food bowl and he comes running while crying. I can’t help but laugh. He is the oddest creature I’ve ever met, but I’ve been grateful for his company. Carter bursts into a fit of laughter from the couch.

“I swear we should put him on tik tok. He’d be famous.”

“So famous.”

Fed by his keeper, Miyagi quiets down and goes to curl up under the bed. I settle into the couch with Carter, pulling out my stash to roll a few joints. Hopefully getting out of the house, spending time with Carter, and a good ole fashioned smoke sesh will help me sleep. Carter grabs the remote and puts on The Office. The familiar dialogue and catchy theme song are comforting background noise.

I light the joint, inhale deeply and pass to Carter, who does the same. We pass back and forth a few times in silence, appreciating the flavor of the smoke and each other’s company. My favorite thing about Carter is the peaceful silence that we can fall into. We don’t need to know the other’s thoughts at any given time, and unlike everyone else I never worry that Carter doesn’t want to be there. He breaks the silence.

“SOoo. I’ve been thinking…”

“Dangerous pastime.”

“...I know but you’ve been so mopey since Nina dumped you—”

“I wasn’t dumped. We amicably parted so that she could go take pictures of fucking leopard seals in Antarctica for 2 to 3 years or whatever.” I mutter bitterly. You can probably guess that it was more amicable on her part.

“FINE you’ve been mopey since you and Nina aMicABly ParTeD and it’s time to move the fuck on with a fun night out with yours truly. Come on. Come on, come on…”

“Ok. Okay. Just stop please,” I concede. Carter punches the air in a show of victory. He’s such a dork. We settle back into silence, Carter satisfied with roping me into a drunken night of mistakes, though knowing him he’ll probably make this night extra-extra and score some ecstasy. It’ll be fun; if it’s anything it’ll be fun.

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“Knock, knock” Carter calls out sarcastically, clearly already in the apartment.

“Come in…oh wait,” I shout from the bedroom, rolling my eyes even though he can’t see me. Carter’s laugh echoes through the hall. So pure.

“Does this look okay” I come out of the bedroom wearing pretty much the same thing I always wear: some jeans and a button up shirt.

“Firstly, you never look bad but maybe…”

“I’m changing.” I huff, slamming the door.

“Why don’t you wear those red pants with the kinda see through shirt and the floral bomber?” Carter asks from the hall. For a boy who lives in sweatpants he is a fancy bitch when it comes to going out. I change into the outfit he suggests—which I reluctantly admit is a look—and open the door.

“Satisfied?” I ask, laying on the sarcasm thick. Carter just stares at me for a second, long enough to make me want to change again, “What?!”

“You look great,” Carter clears his throat and looks away, “very handsome.” I suddenly feel quite warm. Is it hot in here? Maybe it’s the jacket. I tug at my collar, uncomfortable.

“Thanks. Alright let’s go get this stupid night over with.” I say, desperate to move us along.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Carter chuckles sadistically. Shit.

The walk to the bar is awkward and cold and I’m wondering why we didn’t just get a cab. Every once in a while, Carter glances at me and grins, viciously. Why am I friends with him again?

When we finally get there, it’s way too crowded, full of loud drunk people fighting to be heard over the even louder music. I can feel the irritation bubbling up and I know I’m bound to drink too much tonight, just to avoid dealing with all the fucking people. Carter grabs my arm and pulls me through the throng of people, pushing me into a corner booth. I breathe a sigh of relief. Thank God for Carter.

“You stay here. I’m gonna go get some drinks and then I’ve got a surprise for you,” Carter teases me in a sing-song voice before sauntering off to the bar. If I had two guesses, both would be Molly. Carter comes back and slams a beer down in front of me, and then a shot of vodka. “Got two rounds so we don’t have to leave the table soon.” I love him.

He slides into the booth and knocks into my hips playfully. I scoot over, but the heat of his leg lingers against mine.

“Alright, what’s my surprise.” I groan.

“Ah, ah. Shot first.” Carter winks and laughs. His eyes glint in dare. I rise to the challenge and take my shot. The clear alcohol burns in my throat and heat hums in my cheeks. Carter shoves a hand into his pocket and pulls out a mint container. He opens it and reveals a few joints and a couple of pills. I knew it. He hands one to me and smirks slyly, “bottoms up.”

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The night is a blur. I don’t know what round we’re on but the alcohol burns in my veins and dulls my senses enough that I don’t even feel like punching this dude that keeps knocking into me…yet.

Carter’s hand grazes my hips as we dance and Molly leans into the touch. It’s been a minute since I felt this good or this—happy. Only this boy can bring this side out of me. It’s nice to have fun. It’s nice to feel close to someone. I’m so giddy I can’t even miss Nina, haven’t thought about her all night.

As the night wears on, couples break off and the bar empties. He and I are the only people still on the dance floor when the bartender comes to shoo us out. We’re not even bothered; nothing can end this fun, not the bar closing or the cold January air. We laugh and lightheartedly roughhouse the whole way back to my apartment.

I struggle with the lock again, and when I finally get it open, we fall through the door, howling like hyenas. My every nerve hums with intensity. I feel hyper, coursing with a rare energy. Carter breaks out the joints he’s been saving, sniffing one deeply.

“This. Smells. Amazing.” He says, a serious little frown on his face. I can’t help but crack up.

“You’re so high.”

“True, but still.”

“We need music.” I jump up to go plug my phone into my speaker. Maneskin’s cover of Somebody Told Me fills the room. Me and Molly have to move. Carter watches from the couch, puffing on a fat J. Big plumes of smoke float past his face, tempting me. I cross the room. “Gimme some of that.” I demand, collapsing next to him. Our legs and hips are pressed against each other, but I don’t move away this time, just let the warmth spread across my skin.

Carter hands me the joint and our fingers brush against each other. I take a hit. Another, trying to focus. Carter’s gaze is piercing even without looking at him.

“Is it hot in here?” Carter asks, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar, and stretching his neck. It does feel fairly hot in here. I find myself fixating on his eyes. Nina’s eyes were warm and deep; Carter’s eyes are a striking steel blue, sharp and cloudy like a storm, such a contrast to his rusty auburn eyebrows. His eyelashes are longer than most girls, but you have to look closely. Only now do I realize I’m staring…and he’s staring back.

Carter leans in and my whole-body tenses. It’s not fear, more like anticipation, or a mixture of both. His lips press against mine, barely at first, then further. It’s a long kiss, slow, deep, measured, and when his lips break away I feel cold.

“I’m sorry…I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Carter whispers, shaking his head with eyes half closed. Almost as if they’ve developed a mind of their own, my hands grasp awkwardly for his face, pulling him into me again. Carter’s shocked protests are muffled in the kiss, fading into soft moans. His right-hand weaves through my hair, cradling my head; his left wraps around my waist pulling me closer to him.

I don’t know if it’s Molly, or weed, or alcohol or some mixture of the three but my hunger for Carter is insatiable. There is no thinking, no processing, no plan—just bodies, and heat, and a passion I didn’t know I felt before now all melding into one overwhelming feeling: desire.

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My head is pounding. I squint slightly, eyelids crusted with sleep…and Molly and booze. My mouth is bone dry but I lick my lips anyway. Carter lays next to me, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathes rhythmically. I resist the urge to run my hands through his hair, running them through my own instead.

What the fuck happened last night? Did all logic just go out the window? What were we thinking? Why can’t I stop thinking about how soft his lips are? Frustrated with my own thoughts, I sit up, too quickly apparently because my stomach clenches and my heart slams violently. Breathing through the nausea, I slowly ease myself out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping boy next to me.

I lean against the wall for support and coolness, practically dragging myself to the bathroom. Cold water splashes against my face. I rinse my face a few times and wet the back of my neck. My skin crawls and I can’t tell if I need to eat, or if I’m gonna vomit. Maybe I need to eat then vomit. I sip some water from cupped hands and my stomach settles a bit.

I slide down the door to sit on the cold tile, leaning my head back. My body aches from the hangover but if I close my eyes all I feel are Carter’s hands roaming my limbs, his lips dragging across my skin. Oh shit.

I’ve had a few drunken encounters since Nina left but always with a stranger, someone I could hide from the next day and wallow in how much I miss Her. If moving on were easy I would have done it already. Carter is not a safe person to want; he’s not someone I can ghost or avoid. For months he’s been the only person I felt normal around. We’ve been friends forever. He’s Carter for fuck’s sake!! How could I do this to myself? How could I take the one safe place I had and ruin it? What the fuck am I going to do?

“Hey.” I’m startled by the sound of Carter’s voice on the other side of the door, “I’m gonna go get us some coffee and some aspirin. Unless you got some in there and don’t want to share.” He chuckles nervously. I try to force myself to speak but I can’t make the words come out. “Kell?” Still nothing. “Oh…kay I’m gonna give you some space. I—I’m sorry.” I beg myself to say something, but I can’t move, even after I hear the door slam.

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I press my hand against my chest, urging my heart to slow. A memory flashes of Carter’s hand trailing my chest, and him whispering, “you’re so beautiful.” My breath catches in my throat. I’m so stupid. Fuck I’m stupid, of course it’s Carter. It’s Carter, sweet and funny and fun and my best friend…my favorite person, and I just let him walk out of my apartment.

It’s nearly an out of body experience as scramble to try to catch him. I throw on any clothes I can find. I yank on a sweater and almost fall on my face pulling on my boots, before I frantically swing open my front door and ram straight into Carter—and our coffee.

Latte drips on the floor, well what isn’t already all over us. We both stand there in shock for a few moments before bursting into laughter.

“Well, there goes my peace offering.” Carter says, hovering by the threshold. I take the crushed cup carrier from his hands and put it on the counter.

“I’m gonna make us some coffee. Can I get you a clean shirt?” My eyes flick from his face to the ceiling and back again.

“I mean you did get coffee all over this one.” I admire his smirk out the corner of my eye. It’s so normal and yet we’re tiptoeing around each other—can’t even look at each other.

“Alright I’ll be right back.” I leave him in the living room still covered in coffee. My hands shake while I shuffle though my drawers for a clean shirt. I clumsily take my sweater off—luckily the shirt underneath is dry—and hurry back to the living room.

My heart skips a beat and I hold my breath. Carter has already removed his shirt and uses it to wipe away some of the coffee on his chest. His torso is lean but muscular, like a goddamn statue. Fuck. I’m frozen in place, heart slamming around in my chest—utterly overwhelmed.

“I’m scared.” I blurt out, still clutching the replacement shirt for Carter. He raises his eyebrows.

“I’m gonna need a little more context.” How is he this chill? Why can’t I be chill?

“I like you…”

“I like you too…?”

“No like I like you like you” I say furious with my own brain. Carter bites his lips and smiles.

“I like you like you too. I would have passed you a note but I thought we were adults.” I roll my eyes and laugh softly, running my hand through my hair in exasperation. “I like when you do that.” My hand freezes and I look at him—really look at him since yesterday. His hair is all messy and sticking up and he’s got dark circles under his eyes, clearly hungover too, but gorgeous in his unruliness.

“I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never slept with my best friend before.” I grumble, irritated with having feelings, especially these feelings. I'm not a fan of complicated.

“Me neither.” He says it lowly, almost under his breath.

“So—what do you think we should do?” I ask. Carter grins devilishly.

“I don’t know…wanna try again?”