The Way We Talk

I am not going to Facebook-stalk him. I am not going to Facebook-stalk him. I am not going to Facebook-stalk him.

Oh fuck. Katy's the worst influence in the world.

"You have his name and number. Not only that, but he asked for your name and number, then gave you his. You're going on a date with him. You are perfectly justified to add him on Facebook and look at every picture of him you want to and send the cute ones over to me so that I can approve." She snaps her gum from over the phone, and I sigh.

My hand hovers of the "Add As Friend" button, and I shake my head at myself. This is beyond pathetic. "It's not a date, Katy. It's coffee. It's an extension of Psych class banter. We're in college. We do coffee and give out our numbers to random strangers on a regular basis. Remember how many numbers of random people I met the first week that I haven't talked to since?"

"It's a date," she states dryly, and I click the damn button once and for all. I click on his profile to see what part of his profile is public. Stalker. Stalker. Stalker. Not much is visible, just his pictures, and the left side bar.

Networks:
West Orange High '07
GWU '11

Relationship Status:
In A Relationship With Maria Sentauri

My eyes double back to that last item. "Definitely not a date, K. He has a girlfriend."

"Ouch" is my best friend's dignified response. "Yeah, you're right. That's not a date."

Thank you, Captain Obvious. "As I said earlier, coffee. It's a social thing."

"Maybe he's on the cusp of breaking up with her?" Katy asks a I log off GWireless, as not to Facebook-stalk his girlfriend as well.

"And maybe you're delusional," I counter, closing my laptop and reaching for my bag, "Well, I have to head to coffee with Christian Climer." I pause, then add, "There were too many Cs in that sentence."

Katy giggles. "Kind of, yeah. Have fun, use condoms, and if you don't, name it after me."

"Goodbye," I end dryly, hitting the end button on my EnV2.

Christian is waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. Upon spotting me, he drops the butt to the ground and puts it out with the tip of his shoe. He gives me a quick one-armed hug and a "Hey Erica". I smile at him as he opens the door for me. At four PM on a Friday, the ever-busy Gelman Starbucks is much quieter than, say, eight AM on a Tuesday (how apt). We're able to order our coffee - a grande coffee each - then head directly to the register.

I pull out my GWorld, only to have Christian bump my elbow, no. "I asked you to coffee, it's on me."

God, Katy was right. This does sounds dangerously like a date. "If anything, I should be paying for your coffee, Climer."

"What, we're on a last name basis now, Saunders?" He smirks jokingly, handing the barista his GWorld. I roll my eyes and scoff at this. "You know, most girls love it when the guy pays for everything.

Most girls love it when they're asked to coffee by guys without girlfriends too, Christian. But I neglect to tell him this, but I do mention to him that, "Well, most guys don't ask the girl that dumped coffee all over them to coffee."

"Touche."

We're both handed our coffee, then we head to the condiments station and fix our drinks before taking a seat at a two-person table in the back.

"So, tell me about yourself," he asks, leaning back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I'm Erica, I'm eighteen, I'm from East Bumfuck, Maine..."

"That's a town?" He inquires, laughing, and I shake my head.

"Nah, a general term for anywhere that isn't Portland, Augusta, or Bangor. Our idea of a fun time is running around a Walmart, which, mind you, is half an hour away from my house."

He grimaces at that, and takes another sip of his coffee. "I take it that you have higher aspirations?" He questions, gesturing with his cup.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

He nods in approval. "Good point. Well, I'm Christian, twenty, Orlando, Florida, which is, believe it or not, more than just Disneyland."

I laugh. "I know, I have cousins who live in Orlando."

"Sweet. So why exactly did you agree to go to coffee with me?"

I raise an eyebrow. He doesn't dance around his point, does he? "Other than the fact that you asked me?" He chuckles at this, and I continue, "A love of coffee and conversation. You?"

He half-shakes his head at that. "To be honest, I woke up last Sunday, hungover as hell, and realized that half of my friends are abroad this semester. And then you just so happened to be in my Psych class on Wednesday, and you made me laugh. I assumed that the possibility of making a new friend was worth the chance that I'd be attacked with a latte again."

I smack him on the arm in response, but that doesn't prevent the grin sneaking its way to both our faces. "Yeah, I have a feeling that we won't get along at all. But that's a quality I usually look for in my guy friends."

He shrugs at that. "Works for me."

--

Three hours and two refills later, I realize that Christian's kind of perfect.

He's in a band, has played guitar since he was seven, and enjoys partying without pants, coffee and conversation, going for drives, ethnic food, and roller coasters.

And now, we're discussing a mutual love for making out.

"Have you tried the whole ice cube thing?" I ask, swirling around the lukewarm remains of coffee number three in my cup, "Some people say it feels cool, but I'd think it would be awkward."

He nods. "Heavy on the awkward, I must say. Me and my girlfriend tried it out once," he admits, and I try not to wince at the very casual dropping of the term 'girlfriend'; of course I know she exists, but it's the first mention of her thus far, "Gave me a brain freeze, and I couldn't feel anything. She started laughing because my tongue was so cold. But I suppose that's because I sucked on the ice cube too long or something."

I shrug. "Entirely possible." At that, I hear my phone buzzing repeatedly in my pocket.

Chelsea Caymon calling.

I swear and hit send. "Oh my God, I completely lost track of time. I'm in Starbucks doing coffee with someone; I'll be there in five."

"Seven o'clock dinner plans?"

I nod sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm supposed to be at Froggy with Chels and Ava right now. Didn't think I'd be here this long."

Christian shrugs. "Don't make me keep you any longer," he responds, chugging the rest of his coffee.

"This was fun," I grin down at him as I get up and grab my purse, "We should do it again sometime."

He nods in agreement, getting up as well. "Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow night? Me and my roommate are having a few friends over in our dorm for a party; you should come."

"Totally. Just text me the details." I hug him goodbye before heading (read- running) to Froggy Bottom Pub & Grill.

Chelsea and Ava are waiting outside when I arrive, giving me one of those 'please explain what you were doing' sort of looks.

My reputation for punctuality proceeds me, I guess.

"Coffee date with who?" Ava asks, eyes twinkling with a gossipy glint.

I bite my lip, and they know immediately. "How was it?" Chelsea questions, unable to hide her own grin.

"To be honest, it was the best first non-date of my life. Now, can we go get food? I'm starving."