Decembers

An awkward silence hung in the air for all of around a minute before it was shattered and crashed onto the floor, much like Bailey’s body wanted to do.

“I’m uh, uh, s-sorry,” Bailey blurted out. He was engulfed in flames, silently screaming for moisture or something to put it out. Or a distraction.

“Why are you sorry? I don’t see much for you to be apologizing for, Bailey.” Devian was smirking deviously behind his coffee cup, eyes darting across the other boy’s face like a forked tongue. He was finding far too much enjoyment in this burning little coffee shop but felt no shame, only radiated heat. “Speak.”

“I don’t know, I uh, just forget I said anything.” He looked away while burning from the serpent orbs that happened to be mercilessly grazing his flesh.

“Oh I’ll certainly try. Remind me to take notes.”

Bailey simply nodded, sipping his coffee cautiously. If he, for whatever reason, spilled the hot liquid on himself, he’d just have an embarassing stain on his uniform; no large sum of cash from a successful lawsuit due to the “Caution: this beverage is hot!” on the side of the cup. Obviously, some person had ruined the chance of making money for not assuming hot coffee is hot.

Outside, the snow started to softly pound into the earth harder and faster. Devian watched the white fall with his vocal chords tied off and mouth only opening enough to allow the little opening for his coffee inside. Across the table, Bailey observed the scenery through the streak-free window, gazing dreamily propped up on one fist. He could easily gain understanding for what life looked like through a barrier that simply tempted and provoked shattering although the viewing-quality was not obstructed.

“I’m really dreading walking home in this shit,” Devian muttered under his breath.

“I can see why you would, even if you are fairly experienced with it.”

“Fuck, I’d call my mom but I must’ve forgotten to grab my phone.” It was probably at his house rather than Cody’s, considering he didn’t use it much. He generally wasn’t needed for much of anything.

“Use mine.” Bailey produced a texting-phone from his pocket before handing it over.

Devian’s fingers glided over the keys to dial the number while his right foor began to tap impatiently before a single ring was even heard. He wasn’t sure why, but, calling people and receving calls always made him feel anxious and nervous; most calls he’d ever received were terrible news and words flew through the earpiece like a car fueled up with the wrong gasoline type sputtering to work. It could be said that Devian was pretty used to things being broken, though. He was pretty sure he was always going to be left there to hold the pieces, no matter how badly they tore and mutilated the palms of his hands. As the blood dripped and splattered on the floor, Devian’s lips contorted into a smile- he had no control over it.

Eventually, his mother’s voice answered the other end of the call. A few, short sentences were exchanged before it was decided that she would be over here in around twenty minutes. No ‘I love you’s were muttered over the line, just simple ‘Okay bye’s. Nothing more was needed nor desired.

“She’ll be here in about twenty minutes,” Devian said, handing the phone back. “And thanks for the use of your cellular device.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. And you still never let me in on the secret as to why you came back here.”

“Okay, honestly, I came back because I was upset and wanted to talk. Yes, you caught onto that very fast but I never directly stated what it was that made me upset. My boyfriend, Cody, died of cancer this morning while I was right there. Now, I must thank you for giving me someone to talk to because I’d be at home drowning if I wasn’t here wasting your time.

“It feels like a large rock was thrown off of my shoulders, but, it’s still tied to my body so I’m going to sink and still hurt. I can’t tell what’s worse: the waiting or the aftermath. I really can’t. All I know is, I’m not acting as hysterical as I was expecting I would. If I were, you might never want to speak to me again. Well, you could have that resentment towards me anyway, but, that’d just make it worse. I’m rambling.”

“I’m so sorry. And no, no you’re witnessing how busy I am- you haven’t wasted any of my time.”

“It’s er, okay and thank you.” Devian wasn’t even sure about what was falling from his oral cavity right now. His tongue was flying behind his teeth once his vocal chords knotted again. It wasn’t okay, it wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. The muffin and coffee and Bailey were okay. Devian wasn’t okay.

Bailey cautiously placed a hand on Devian’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. It was slightly hesitant but Bailey didn’t want to push any limits now that he knew of the day’s unfortunate events earlier on. He found i it a little strange that he didn’t pick up on this; he was good at reading other people’s emotions. When it came to Devian, he could get no signal or trail to follow. This was a completely new feeling. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

A few moments passed with a heavy dosage of awkward silence hanging in the air persistently. It swallowed the words right out of their mouths, deep-throating it all out.

“I don’t think there’s ever been a day in my life where time has stood as still as it is now.”

“It’ll all be better in time, don’t worry.”

The word “time” carved itself in the back of Devian’s throat. It was weighing him down, it wanted to see him fall to his knees and choke and claw into his flesh. That scent and time were definitely two-timing him. He was feeling quite a bit numb.

A paper was thrusted across the table at Devian. It had a messily-scribbled number diagonally-lying on the lines of the paper.

“If you need me,” Bailey said quietly. “Hit the cell.”

A horn honked outside of the Starbucks- it was no surprise that it was Devian’s mother. Devian muttered another thank you and a wave before he threw himself through the door and out into the cold that could freeze and break hair off.

“Hey,” Devian’s mother said, turning down the radio dial a little.

“Hey.”

“Funeral arrangments aren’t set yet.” That sentence trailed off into the snow.