At a Coffe Shop

August runs into the first open shop he sees to take cover from the rain. His feet squish in his wet shoes. He takes off his sopping beanie and makes his way inside. He shakes out his wet hair like a dog. Looking up, he takes in the hustle and bustle of a small café. With a few small tables along the right wall and a handwritten chalk menu, how nice. He’s always up for a cup of joe.

August makes his way to the counter, his shoes squeaking against the titled floor. What to order? A cappuccino, or a hot chocolate? Hot chocolate sounds tempting—a perfect complement to the icy rain showering from the sky. He can hear the pitter padder on the roof.

A boy with bright red hair poking out from under a backward cap walks out of the back, stopping in front of the register. He makes eye contact with August, his green eyes sparkling. August’s breath leaves his body at the sight of the clear-skinned beauty in front of him.

August smiles. “Um, hi,” he manages out watching the gorgeous boy’s eyes make a slow descent on his body. His round face adorned by light scruff across his jaw. August has never felt more uncomfortable about someone dragging their eyes up and down the length of his body. His jeans are wet from the knees down after running through the puddles of rainwater and his jacket hangs off his body, stretched from the weight of water.

“Hello,” the boy’s nasally voice floats out. Sawyer watches the feathery brown-haired man in front of him scan the menu. His light blue eyes running up and down the columns of the various drinks the café offers. Rainwater drips from the fringe of his hair running down his fair face.

Few people of Sawyer’s type come stumbling through the doors of the café. This must be his lucky day.

“I’ll just have a hot chocolate,” blue eyes says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Whip cream?” Sawyer questions tapping away at the register. Blue eyes raises an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you want whip cream?” Sawyer repeats, blue eye’s face flushes red as he mumbles ‘sure’.

“Name?”

“August.”

“August!” His name rings out over the line of people. August scrambles to the counter to collect his drink. After talking to the boy at the counter, he feels like it has transported him back to the awkward teen he was.

He mumbles ‘thanks’ under his breath, trying to hide his disappointment of not getting to talk to the red-haired boy. August shakes the thought from his mind, making his way back to the table he was occupying. He faces the counter, trying to conceal the fact he’s totally staring. The boy smiles while talking to another customer and it lights up the room.

August looks away when he thinks the boy glances in his direction, quickly taking a deep drink of his hot chocolate. Forgetting his normal routine of blowing in the lid to cool it down. The fiery liquid burns his tongue, catching him off guard. The shock causes him to send his knee into the bottom of the table. Unable to handle the pain, August spits the liquid all over the table, covering it in light brown liquid.

When he looks up, he notices he’s caught the attention of the whole café, including the cute boy at the register. The boy raises an eyebrow at August, all August can do is give him a sheepish smile. Remembering he possibly has hot chocolate on his face, he scrambles to snatch a napkin out of the holder.

After addressing his face, he moves forward to pull a handful of napkins out to wipe up his hot chocolate spit.

“I’ve got it.”

August looks up at the familiar voice, the red-haired boy is smiling with a towel in hand. He wipes down the table, then slips into the chair across from August. Normally August would be all for a chat, but right now all he wants is to sink into the tilted floor.

“Gotta say that’s the first someone’s spit their drink all over a table, what scared ya?” He questions. August’s face heats up. How do you tell someone attractive your hot chocolate was too hot?

“My drink was hotter than I expected,” he mumbles, embracing the dumbness of the statement. He can’t get any more embarrassed than he is now.

“Your hot chocolate was… too hot?”

“Don’t laugh at me,” August says, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m not laughing,” the boy says between laughs bubbling out of his mouth.

“Sawyer! I’m not paying you to sit around and talk to the customers! Get back to work!” A red-faced man’s head pokes out of the backroom to glare at Sawyer’s back. Sawyer is quick to stand.

“Well, got to go. Nice talking to you.” Sawyer says, grabbing the towel he brought over before slipping out of the chair and heading back to the counter towards his red-faced boss. August shakes his head at the retreating body and stands up. Throwing away his hot chocolate. He will not enjoy that with a burnt tongue.

But one good thing came out of the stumbling into a random café today. He met a cute boy named Sawyer.