The Center

Frank:

“Can I get a medium iced mocha, skim milk, two Splenda?” I asked, digging my hand into my back pocket for my wallet. The barista nodded, asked for $3.50 and took my money before giving me my change and then getting me my drink. I didn’t really need the skim milk, or the Splenda for that matter, but I love the way it makes the mocha flavoring taste. The fact that it’s probably a better and healthier way to drink my coffee wasn’t really what hooked me.

It’s a hot and muggy Sunday afternoon in July, and I'd dragged Ray out to a local Starbucks with me. We tried to hang out at least once every couple of weeks, and we hadn’t since the little get-together at my house a good couple of weeks ago. He’d already ordered before me and had found a table, so once the girl behind the counter had made my beverage, I'd searched for Ray, though I didn’t have to look too far. When I saw that he’d picked a booth right across from the till, I smiled. I love booths. I made my way over and scooted myself in, glad that he’d actually managed to get us seats because this place was packed!

“You get your ‘Skinny Girl’ mocha-chino, or whatever?” He teased me, and then took a sip of his iced French vanilla. My face scrunched into a sarcastic smile, making Ray laugh at me without choking.

“Oh yeah, you bet!” I replied, using the most flamboyant tone I could muster. I took a long sip from my coffee, pointing the straw to the very bottom of the cup where I knew all of the mocha and Splenda had accumulated. “This shit is yummy!” I grumbled, defending myself afterward. Ray cracked another smile.

“Hey man, whatever floats your boat.” He shrugged, and I could practically hear Alicia adding in ‘Whatever tickles your pickle!’ in my head. She was always one to say something completely funny/inappropriate like that. I giggled more at what I knew my cousin would have said over what my best friend just did, but he didn’t have to know that. We sat in silence for a few seconds, taking good sized gulps from our drinks as we tried to hydrate our bodies. I also decided to take in my surroundings. The undying chatter was hard to make out, but it was everywhere; and thinking about it now, everyone’s breath probably made this place a hell of a lot hotter than I wanted it to be. Thank god for AC. There were old couples, young couples, a girl typing away on her laptop and some elderly guy reading a news paper. I couldn’t see much of anyone else from where I sat, though, and I wasn’t about to poke my head out to look. That would be rude, and it wasn’t like I cared much anyways.

“So, what have you been up to?” I asked Ray casually, deciding to add to the babble. He took another swig of his coffee and shrugged again, looking a little uncomfortable. Confused, I straightened up in my seat and pushed my clear plastic cup to the side, my elbows on the table and my chin resting in my folded hands.

My best friend wasn’t ever one to want to share his feelings. He’d never told me this, but I always assumed that he felt like he was being a burden, which wasn’t the case at all. Anytime he needed me, he knew full well that I would be there within a second for him. With the way Ray was raised, though, I don’t think his household had open arms for anyone’s emotions. His mom was a big shot lawyer, divorced from his dad and lived in Colorado, leaving him and his brother in their father’s care to be brainwashed into the ‘get rich or die trying’ lifestyle. Luckily, Ray found the music world, which I believed saved him from being a robot. And gave him me, of course!

“Ray…” I probed, still waiting after a solid five minutes. If something was seriously wrong, I needed to know. Though, I also knew that the littlest things could get this guy upset. My awaited answer was really up in the air at this point. Finally, he let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back, resting his head in-between the wall and booth cushion. He took his coffee cup and chugged the rest, only leaving ice, and then he shut his eyes for a second or two before looking around to make sure no one was listening in on our conversation.

“I… I think I may be interested in someone…” he whispered, stretching out his arms and scratching the back of his head, his lion mane curls spreading themselves all over the place. If I was in an interested position before, now I was infatuated. My legs crossed themselves on my seat, and I scooted as close to Ray as the table would let me, my arms now folded on the cold surface and my head lying on top of them. I widened my eyes, bouncing my eyebrows, and I had a drunken grin on my face. Ray had only ever been with somebody once while I'd known him, Christa, but he broke it off to pursue running his father’s engineering firm.

This was huge!

“Raymond Toro, the guy who can’t be tied down with a career, has the hots for someone? Do tell!” I squealed, but only loud enough to be just above a whisper. I knew he valued his privacy, so I didn’t want to push any of his buttons. His cheeks flushed pink and his eyes darted all over before setting themselves on the table, staring hard.

“Yeah, well, I dunno. I'm not sure, or anything… I just… I just think I might like him…” he confessed. I wasn’t surprised when he said him, as we’d discussed our sexualities when we first became roommates, wanting to get everything out in the open right away. I was excited, however, to find out about whoever had broken the spell! This was major! I grinned even wider.

“And who is the lucky guy? Someone from work, maybe?” I assumed, because he never really had time for much of anything else. His blush of a deeper shade of pink made me think I was correct, but when he shook his head I frowned. “No? I'm wrong? Then who?” I pressed, bouncing a little. I'd never been able to do this sort of thing with Ray. Only Alicia, really. So sue me for being keyed up about this!

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions or anything, because this isn’t definite. But…” He paused, looking up to meet my gaze at last. I knew he was really nervous and revealing his feelings wasn’t an easy thing for him to do. I gave him my finest encouraging smile and decided that patience might be the best approach. I waited another two minutes or so before he opened his mouth, shut it, and opened it again before glancing around and ducking his head. “I… I think Bob is… I think he’s really nice…” he admitted, so quiet that I'd barely even heard what he mumbled. Not being able to help myself, I gasped and straightened myself in my seat, smiling ear to ear.

I fully expected Ray to sit awkwardly on one side of my couch with me in the middle and to have Bob on the other side, curled in a ball, maybe hugging the popcorn bowl while Alicia rolled all over the floor, eating candy all night as we watched numerous horror movies. The only similarity between what I thought would happen and reality was the fact that my baby cousin was sprawled out on the carpet, munching on way too many sugar-coated treats. I actually sat in my dad’s old recliner and kept one eye on the TV screen, the other on Ray and Bob. The whole time they sat somewhat close together and muttered about the special effects, the make-up art, and the bad acting that some films were just famous for. I'd known all of Ray’s opinions about all of these things from previous movie marathons, but I was a little surprised that he was sharing it all with Bob, a new comer. I mean, it’s not like one’s views on movie content was anything to hide or be ashamed of, but it still wasn’t something Ray went around telling people he barely knew. It was impressive on Bob’s behalf, if nothing else. He’d won over Ray’s trust in a matter of seconds! I don’t know why I didn’t even suspect it was him when Ray had brought it up. How could it not be?

“I should have known! The two of you were practically inseparable!” I said, taking my cup into my hand once more and slurping my last mouthful. I could tell Ray was fighting a smile as he picked his plastic cup up, too, and shook it so that the melting ice clanged together. “So, are you going to make a move?” I asked, eagerly. His eyes widened and he made a look of distaste, not liking the sound of an actual relationship, I suppose. Immediately, I shook my head. “Ray, you can’t just let this go! You like Bob! And he’s single! I know for a fact that he’s a great guy, and I really think you should give this a shot! C’mon!” I urged. Ray took his straw out of his cup and began bending it over and over.

“We just talked a couple weeks ago, is all. I… I had a good time. I enjoyed his company. Does that mean I've got to force myself on him? No.” he told me, trying to sound as rational as possible. He isn’t the kind of guy to rush into things, but he can’t just let opportunity pass him by, either! “He probably doesn’t even like me like that. He probably isn’t even gay…” Ray sulked. I had to scoff at him, though.

“Not gay? Are you kidding me? Bob rooms with his cats and lives for being my mom’s slave at The Center! It sounds a little creepy to people who don’t know him, maybe, but it also screams gay. Ray, you finally opened up with someone else but me and you’ve thought about him enough to bring Bob up today! Plus, he’s shy, too. He hasn’t really said anything, but I'm sure you rocked his world too. The two of you need to get together, pronto!”

“But… I don’t know if I can… I don’t know if I'm ready for this…” He whispered again. The guy had a heart of gold and it took everything he had to brush Christa aside to kick-start his career, and maybe he hadn’t fully recovered like I'd thought. My smile had gone down to a something more sympathetic, and my chin had found its way back to my folded hands, which were propped up by my elbows. I'd pep-talked him enough for one day, I figured. Now I think he needed to just cool off. Again, I literally thanked god for AC.

After another session of silence between us, I started to get jittery. As a kid I could never sit still for more than a few minutes. Getting older and ‘maturing’ helped a bit, but coffee and cigarettes always helped me chill out, too. I wasn’t the one agitated, but knowing Ray was just put me on edge a little bit. I hated seeing the guy so down. I snatched his cup out of his hands and held it between my upper arm and chest, holding my own up as well, and then scooted out from the booth.

“I'm buying second round, I'll be right back.” I informed him, walking over to the trash can and then back to the counter, fishing for my wallet before I even got to my spot in line. There were still just as many people here as there were when we arrived, and I guessed that as soon as seats opened up they were stolen right away by someone else. I drummed my pointer finger on my faded leather wallet as I waited. Out of nowhere, though, I felt a tug on my shorts. Confused, I looked down to find a forever blank looking Sebastian staring back up at me. Now I was even more puzzled. I shifted on my feet and stuffed my wallet back into my pocket. “Hey little man, what are you doing here?” I asked, crouching down to about his level. I only realized that he wasn’t alone when I saw that his tiny hand was linked to a bigger, lankier one. The pale skin of the hand lead up to an equally pale arm, which ran straight into a tight short sleeved t-shirt, and a mop of greasy black hair on the back of who I could only assume to be his father’s head sprouted out from the neck. “You here with your dad? That’s pretty cool!” I enthused, still a little astonished that he even reached out for my attention in the first place. Cora always tells me that he likes me more than anyone else at The Center, but I just don’t see why. I'm just some guy who works there.

“Sebastian, who are you- Oh, uh, hello…” The semi-familiar nasally voice sounded out over the non-comprehendible chit-chatter. I looked back up to see the man squinting down at me, his body awkwardly turned around to see who the hell was talking to his son in a crowded coffee shop. He gained good dad points from me right there.

I gave Sebastian a smile and heaved myself up so that I was standing next to the guy. I think his name is Jared… Gerald? It really didn’t remember. I'd have to casually get it out of him some way or another later. “Hey, sorry if I freaked you out. The little guy said hello first so I figured I'd return it, y’know?” I chuckled, trying not to sound like a pedophile. He gave me his weird half smile and then looked at his son who was staring up at me. I glanced over at the line we were in, noting that we were nowhere near ordering.

“I'm just glad he wasn’t talking to strangers.” He said quietly. The two of them were both quiet, Sebastian more than his dad, but I guess you couldn’t be a mute when you had a kid to take care of, could you? Like father like son, I suppose.

“He doesn’t seem like the type, but I know what you mean. When I was little I used to talk to anybody who would listen. My mom was always so embarrassed!” I laughed at myself and the memory of her expression. I even got a snigger out of him, so I figured that was a good sign.

“Well, I guess I'm lucky he doesn’t do that.” He replied, still hushed but with a smile on his face. I smiled back at him and he’d turned around again, waiting for his turn to buy his coffee. I wasn’t really offended. From the first -er- second time we met, I'd just figured that this was how this guy was wired. Short conversations and a kind of awkward approach.

Sebastian had switched his hands so that now he was facing forward, just like his dad. I knew most kids wouldn’t be so agreeable with holding their parent’s hands, especially on a grossly hot summer day, but I also knew that he wasn’t most kids. He was quiet, and polite. Shy and thoughtful. Not your average four year old by far. He was refreshing, actually, a nice calm child compared to all the maniacs that went to The Center. I couldn’t help but love all of them, but he just might happen to be my favorite. Y’know, if I was allowed to pick favorites, that is.

I waited another ten minutes before I was ready to order, a ten dollar bill already out and waiting for its spot in the register, and I noticed that Sebastian and his dad were still here and off to the side. The boy was waiting patiently as it looked like his dad was searching for a seat.

“Sir? Are you ready to order?” An older gentleman asked, pulling me out of my transfixed state. He wasn’t the same barista from before, quite obviously as the other was a teenage girl, but he seemed much more polite and patient. Probably why they put him out instead.

“Oh, uhm, sorry about that. Yeah, uh, I'd like a medium iced mocha with skim milk and two Splenda, and then a large iced French vanilla, extra extra.” I ordered expertly. The guy didn’t look startled or confused with my request, so I wasn’t worried about a screw up. I left him to his job after I paid him and glanced behind me to see that the line wasn’t letting up. This place was in high demand, that’s for damn sure. When he placed to freezing cold iced coffees in front of me my mouth all but watered and I thanked him, telling the man to have a nice day, too, after he told me to have one. Ready to rejoin Ray back at our booth, I became aware of the fact that my two acquaintances still hadn’t found a place of their own to settle into. I felt bad. This guy was just trying to take his kid out for the afternoon and now that couldn’t even stay in a nice air conditioned shop because half of the other people in New Jersey had the exact same idea. Suddenly, I was struck with an idea of my own. I hesitated with indecision. I could pretend to be ignorant to the fact that they needed somewhere to sit, or I could invite them to come and sit with Ray and me. It was a long shot, and I didn’t exactly expect them to even agree, but I felt like it was the polite thing to do. I cleared my throat as I picked up the two drinks and approached Sebastian and his dad, a smile plastered on my face. Sebastian immediately noticed me, his little head poking out from behind his father’s legs, and he stared at me intently. The man turned and looked in my direction after he looked down to find his son focused on me.

“I, uh, noticed that you need a place to sit and my friend and I are in that booth right across the way,” I began, nodding in Ray’s direction. My friend looked at me quizzically, but I tried to shoot him back a look that said ‘I'll explain later’. “And there’s more than enough room if you’d like. I'd hate to see you guys stand here the whole time when I've got plenty of space right over there.” I assured them. The little boy looked up at his dad as he looked at me reluctantly. He had a hot coffee foam cup in his hand, which I thought he was crazy for, and then a small brown bag with what I think was a cookie inside. Sebastian was cradling a tiny plastic bottle of plain milk in his arms and clutching a handful of napkins. I could almost see the want in his eyes to sit down and I didn’t blame him. Even if I wasn’t partial to booths, I'd choose one over standing any day.

“Th-Thank you… That’s very nice…” the guy quietly replied, still a bit reluctant. I smiled triumphantly and lead the way, even if it was only a few steps. I motioned to Ray with my head again and hoped he got the hint to get up so that Sebastian could sit with his dad on one bench and he and I would have to squeeze in together. Luckily, Ray can read me like a book, and we settled in as planned. I handed my friend his coffee as Sebastian’s dad took his cookie out of the bag, breaking it into four pieces, and pulled out a straw, too, opening his milk and then popping in the plastic tube.

“Hey, I'm Ray, nice to meet you.” Ray reached over, very well-mannered, ready to shake hands. After the first sip of his, what looked to be piping hot coffee, the guy met his hand and shook briefly.

“Gerard, and thanks, uh, for switching sides.” He responded in a hushed tone.

Gerard! Of course! How could I forget?

“And, this is my son, uh, Sebastian.” He told Ray, almost about stretch out his hand and rest it on top of the boy’s head, but decided against it. They just weren’t touchy-feely people, I guess.

“Sebastian goes to The Center,” I added in, trying to clear up how I knew the two. Ray nodded, understanding, and sipped his coffee. He was probably glad that he was off the hook from our previous conversation. He wasn’t so lucky, though, because as soon as we parted from our guests I fully intended to force him to at least text Bob.

“He’s a really good artist, too. He makes lots of nice pictures during craft time!” I bragged for the boy, trying to get his attention off of the raisons and granola in his cookie. I was successful, the pink tint flushing on his cheeks told me so.

“Really? That’s amazing!” Ray enthused, making me laugh. I wasn’t used to seeing him around kids. I half expected a mumbled ‘Thank you’ on Sebastian’s part, but I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t say anything back. He wasn’t being rude, he was just being his introverted little self. Gerard shifted in his seat and took another long gulp of his still hot beverage. He didn’t make eye contact with either me or Ray, and it was getting to be a little awkward after a couple of minutes. I knew Ray must have felt uncomfortable, but he cleared his throat anyways and attempted conversation. “So, uh, Gerard, what do you do?” he asked. I could have easily told him that we’d kind of met in a book store nearby, but I wasn’t exactly asked. It was a formal question, the kind that Ray was used to asking when he went to company parties and talked to the spouses of other employees.

“Well, I work part time at the Barnes & Noble, but, uh, I… I write children’s books…” he revealed, shyly. I had been taking a drink of my coffee when he said this, and I coughed, choking from shock! Children’s books? This guy totally didn’t seem the type! He couldn’t even cuddle with his own kid, how the hell did he relate to them through his writing?

“Wow! Have you had anything published?” I asked, genuinely curious. Ray was leaned back and had his coffee cup resting on his stomach, waiting for the reply just like me. Though he was saved from a long and lonely life of being a robot, he was still interested in business. He couldn’t help it, it was in his blood.

“Uhm, well, yes actually. I, uh, wrote… I've written quite a few published stories…” he shared, meekly. I smiled. It was good to know that he was humble and not some stuck-up show off. I mean, a published author was kind of a big deal, even if it was for kid stuff.

“Congrats, man, that’s awesome. You must go on tons of book signings and stuff, huh?” I asked, presuming that his life may be somewhat glamorous. I took in another mouthful of my mocha drink as Gerard took one of his. Ray’s was finished already, but that’s probably because he hadn’t been talking as much.

“Uhm, no.” He said sheepishly, fixating his stare on his large pale hands. It’s like this guy had some sort of switch. One second he was somewhat human, and then I go and say something maybe a little forward and that switch flips completely off. The same thing happened in the book store. Maybe it’s just me? Maybe he doesn’t like me. You can’t be friends with everyone, right?

Nobody said anything for another couple of minutes. The buzz of the coffee shop overpowered our slurping sounds. It’s not that anything was tense or uneasy, but I definitely didn’t feel at ease. It was then that I kind of wished they’d never chosen to come in today, or that maybe I dragged Ray into a different place to catch up. It wasn’t that I wanted to be mean, I just hated these sort of situations.

Almost as if there was some calling from god or whatever, my stomach rumbled and broke our silence. It was even loud enough to catch everyone’s attention at our table, causing them to look up at me. I grinned, a little embarrassed, and was about to get up to buy myself a little snack when I saw the cutest thing I think I've ever witnessed.

Having only nibbled on one of his four pieces of cookie, Sebastian picked up an untouched piece and stared at it for a second or two before holding it out over the flat surface as far as his petite little arm would let him. “Are you sure?” I asked, not wanting him to give up his food just for me. He nodded, blank as usual, and reached a little farther to show me just how sure he was. I took the small mite-sized piece and smiled graciously. “Thank you very much, Sebastian!” I said warmly and popped the cookie in my mouth, rubbing my stomach to prove that it was yummy. I caught him smile as he looked back down at the other two and a half bits, which made me smile too. When I looked up, I saw that Gerard had a fond expression on his face that turned my cheeks red.

I guess Cora was right; this kid really did like me.