8
Campus was abuzz with a “breaking development”
on Monday.
Well, the development wasn’t all that shocking to anyone who actually took the time to read signs.
Midway Roasters was reopened and the students of Midway would no longer have to do back-alley dealings to get their daily coffee fix.
No more would we have to trek off campus to the gas station for subpar vanilla lattes from questionable machines that hadn’t been cleaned in God knows when.
No longer would we have to buy the mass-produced bottled cold brew in the dining hall.
None of us would have to use our contraband drip coffee machines in our dorms that could get us in trouble if the resident advisors got finicky.
French presses in dorms were no longer necessary.
They were inefficient anyway, since water hot enough to use them required electric kettles.
Which were also verboten.
Microwaving water never got the water to the exact temperature, so morning coffee making was simply a headache for students.
I assumed that the resident advisors had been looking the other way in regards to electric kettles and coffee machines the first two weeks of school.
Since Midway Roasters had been closed, they’d realized that we had to get our coffee fix somewhere.
However, now that the coffee shop was ready for business, a crackdown was likely to come.
Fortunately, I had neither a coffee machine, nor an electric kettle.
I’d been surviving on bottled cold brew, like a rule-abiding, studious geek.
Needless to say, Midway Roasters was completely packed Monday morning.
When I’d heard the news of their reopening in the hallway of the dorms on my way to shower that morning, I decided I’d have to swing by on the way to class.
However, when I arrived, the inside looked like a nightclub and the line was out the door and down the walkway.
A short walk to the dining hall, and I was once again sipping cold brew from a bottle.
When I breezed by the student bookstore and Midway Roasters minutes later, the line had barely moved.
I glanced inside out of curiosity and saw that the renovations and deep cleaning had been beneficial, but still not sufficient for the campus population.
More baristas were working than our previous year, there were more espresso machines, and two cashiers were working in tandem.
There’d simply never be a big enough coffee shop and enough workers to attend to all of the caffeine needs of students first thing in the morning.
Right then and there, I decided that my first coffee of the day would be a bottled cold brew from the dining hall, or instant coffee made with microwave water.
It wasn’t ideal, but standing in line for thirty minutes or more and risking being late to classes simply didn’t work for me.
My first two classes of the day seemed to be missing a handful of students each.
Though I had no way of knowing for certain, I was sure the absenteeism was up due to the line at Midway Roasters.
It seemed the professors had noticed the phenomenon as well, since they each made coffee jokes at the start of class.
That was before they thanked those of us that showed up for class on time.
Whether or not there would be repercussions for students who chose coffee over learning, I couldn’t say.
However, most of the professors seemed to find the humor in the situation, thus were likely to forgive everyone.
At least on Monday.
If it became a trend, there would certainly be some type of crackdown across campus.
I hoped my fellow students didn’t cause Administration to do something crazy, like limit the hours of operation at Midway Roasters, and ruin it for everyone.
Fortunately, when I walked by the coffee shop on my way to the dining hall for lunch after my last class, the line was nonexistent.
It appeared that the coffee shop staff were reorganizing and cleaning the shop after the first day’s rush.
A handful of students sat at the café tables and sipped coffees and talked, but everything seemed under control for the first time.
I made a mental note to stop by later for a real coffee.
I simply couldn’t wait until day two to get my fix.
I had skipped breakfast, subsisting solely on cold brew and water—and a handful of peanut M&M’s a friend shared with me in class—so a big lunch was in order.
After eating a burger and fries, and chugging a Sprite, I went back through the line and got a salad with chicken, a chocolate croissant, and another soda.
By the time I left the dining hall, I was dreaming of sitting on my bed and popping the button of my jeans.
Letting my gut perform a flabbalanche was all that I wanted.
The thought had me standing in front of the floor-length mirror in my room when I got back to the dorms.
I lifted my shirt and inspected my gut, wondering if I’d put on any weight since returning to Midway for the fall.
I’d never been the type of guy to have abs, but summers at home, performing manual labor, always had me returning to school lean, and maybe even a bit wiry.
Of course, it was ridiculous to think I’d undone an entire summer of hard work in ten days back at school, but I had to check to be sure.
I definitely still didn’t have abs, but my stomach wasn’t flat, either.
Lunch had given me a food baby, and the bloating made me want to crawl into bed and wait for it to pass.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one to obsess over my weight or my body.
However, it’s always good to check in on whether or not we’re being good to ourselves.
I definitely hadn’t been making the best food and drink choices since getting back to school.
I couldn’t eat and drink like I did at home because the opportunities for hard work were limited at Midway.
As I stepped away from the mirror, letting my shirt drop, I made a mental note to visit the university gym at least a couple times a week for the rest of the year.
Or, at least, walk more.
Especially since I was not going to skip my coffee treat later that day.
I peeled my jeans off and pulled on some basketball shorts.
I pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it into my laundry bag with my jeans. Then, against my nature, I climbed into my bed for an after-class nap.
When I awoke two hours later, my hair was a mess, my eyes felt crusted over, and I barely recognized where I was.
However, the bloated feeling in my gut was gone, so I could deal with dry eyes and messy hair.
I made my way down to the bathrooms and sorted myself out, then returned to my room.
I suddenly realized I hadn’t seen Collin since that morning, and if he had returned to our room, I had slept through it.
Currently, he was nowhere to be found.
I applied fresh deodorant and a spritz of what my mother called “stink pretty,”
and found a fresh t-shirt to wear. I grabbed my lanyard and wallet and left the dorms, headed to the parking lot. As was typical for Mondays, I made my trip to Spice House and hung out with Arthur for a few hours. By the time I left, the sun was setting, and coffee was calling my name.
Midway Roasters was going to be my first stop. Going by the dorms first wasn’t even an option. All of the coffee drinks I could order spun through my head as I parked my car in the lot and made my way across campus on foot. The responsible side of me said I should get a French press or drip coffee and add a little cream and sweetener. However, the side of me that longed for decadence was dreaming of a blended coffee drink that was more dessert than beverage.
Luck was on my side, because when I walked up to Midway Roasters, there were a few students in line, but it wasn’t crazy. I assumed that since it was the dinner hour, most of the student population was in the dining hall. Several of the café tables were occupied by students, but waiting for a coffee wasn’t going to be an ordeal.
Quickly, I got in line and made my decision. I wouldn’t be completely responsible with my coffee order, but I wouldn’t order what was, essentially, a milkshake. When I got to the check-out counter, I told the overly excited cashier that I wanted a café mocha, lactose-free milk, no whip, with extra chocolate drizzle. Balance. After paying, I waited patiently for my name to be called.
Giving Midway Roasters a good looking over, I had to agree that the choice to renovate and do a deep clean had improved the coffee shop exponentially. Faux brick walls, industrial ductwork, hanging-bulb lights, chalkboard menus, and wood and cement counters spruced up the joint. The new café tables and dark wood floors made the shop look trendier. With the addition of extra machines and workers, Midway Roasters was going to operate better than it ever had, though they’d never keep up with the students’ demands.
Everything was so sparkly and clean, and I was so distracted by checking out all of the changes, the barista had to call my name twice when my order was ready. Rosy-cheeked, I finally stepped up to the counter and took my drink, thanking them again. I was taking my first sip as I pushed open the front door of the shop. The relief at finally having real coffee once again washed through me. I nearly made an audible “ahhhhhh”
sound as I swallowed the delicious brew.
I was bringing the cup to my mouth for my next big glug of the chocolatey liquid from heaven when I noticed the person standing by the planters across the walkway. Theo was partially hiding behind one of the concrete pillars by the planters, staring into the coffee shop longingly. When he saw me exit, he began to turn, as though he was going to make a break for it. Before he could enact his plan, I jogged over to him with a smile, coffee cup in hand.
“Hey!”
I smiled, pretending I had no idea he had been thinking about evading me.
“Hey,”
he replied, looking down at his shoes.
“You here for a coffee?” I asked.
I sipped my mocha and Theo’s eyes darted up for a split second to watch me. Even if he was trying to hide it, I could see the longing in his eyes. The guy was jonesing for a coffee fix.
“No,”
he said, shuffling his feet. “I was just walking by.”
I frowned at him.
“You sure?”
I asked. “It’s really good. The line’s not long at all. Not like this morning.”
I turned to look at the coffee shop, as though Theo couldn’t see through the plate glass windows for himself. When I turned my head back to Theo, he was looking through the coffee shop windows wistfully—and anxiously. Though I had already guessed, it became clear to me that Theo didn’t want to go into Midway Roasters because most of the tables were full of students. If someone yelled an insult at him in the coffee shop while he was waiting on his coffee, he’d have nowhere to go. Not unless he wanted to leave his coffee behind and lose his money.
Or he could stay there and seep in the humiliation before rushing away with his order.
“Ope,”
I said, “could you hold this for me really quick?”
Automatically, Theo’s hand came out and I handed him my coffee.
“I forgot something,” I said.
“Uh, okay,”
he replied.
I dashed back into the coffee shop before he could say anything. Back at the check-out counter, the barista, confused by my quick return, asked for my second order. Since I had no idea what Theo actually enjoyed, I ordered him a café mocha like mine. Honestly, who doesn’t love coffee and chocolate paired together? If he hated it, well, that would tell me all I needed to know about him.
After I paid, I barely had to wait a minute before my name was called for a second time. I grabbed the drink and rushed back out to Theo. He was frowning at me, as though deep in thought when I came back over to him. I took the coffee he was holding and held the second one out to him.
“Hope you like mochas,”
I said as I brought my cup to my lips.
Tentatively, he took the cup from me.
“It’s on me, so don’t bitch if you don’t,”
I added. “It’s lactose-free milk. In case you have fart issues.”
He chuckled nervously and quickly took a sip. The look of pure ecstasy on his face as he pulled the cup from his mouth and swallowed made me grin widely. Obviously, I had made a good choice when selecting a drink for him. Or he was so desperate for coffee that anything would do. Theo greedily took another sip, swallowed, and finally met my eyes as a grin bloomed on his face.
“I missed real coffee so much,” he said.
“Agreed,”
I replied.
I turned on the pathway towards the dorms, and Theo mirrored my movements. Together, we began to slowly walk back to the dorms, sipping our coffees. Fortunately, no one had noticed him at the coffee shop and scared him away with a screamed insult.
“So,”
I said, “I messaged you on Peepers. You didn’t reply.”
Theo was rosy-cheeked when I glanced at him.
“Sorry,”
he said. “I haven’t really checked my messages in a few days. And I get a lot, so sometimes I don’t see the ones I actually want to read.”
“No worries.”
“Wh-what did it say?” he asked.
“That I liked your animal videos and you should do more of them,”
I explained. “I don’t know how you get animals like squirrels and rabbits to star in your videos. Are you secretly a Disney princess?”
Finally, I received a genuine laugh from Theo before he sipped his coffee again.
“I like animals,”
he said. “They like me back. I don’t know.”
“I watched pretty much all of your videos this weekend,”
I said. “I figured since we’re all, like, best friends now, I needed to get to know you.”
Theo gave me a tight smile and continued to walk alongside me.
“Though,”
I said, “I doubt Peepers is the best way to get to know you better.”
The tight smile bloomed into something realer.
“But the animal videos were definitely worth it,” I added.”
“I mean,”
Theo said, “I like animals. They don’t expect much from you.”
“What do you mean?”
Theo shrugged. “As long as you’re nice to them, they’ll be nice to you. They need food, water, shelter, and love. They don’t judge you. They just want kindness and survival.”
I smiled at him.
“They’re only cruel when they have to be,”
he continued. “Their default is kindness.”
That made my smile grow.
“So,”
Theo shrugged again, “animals are definitely one of my favorite things.”
“And gummy candies,”
I said slyly. “If you want to try one of my favorite treats, you gotta pick up—”
“Stop it!”
Theo groaned, though he seemed amused. “That was just a shameless partner deal. You know, back when companies would still partner with me.”
Ignoring the sadness that laced his last sentence, I moved forward.
“Do you have any pets?”
I asked. “Back home, I mean? I know you can’t have them here.”
He shook his head.
“No,”
he said. “Mom’s allergic. Dad doesn’t really have a tolerance for mess. So, pets are kind of out of the question. I’ve always wanted a dog, but since I can’t have one at home and university dorms kind of frown on pets…”
I nodded along.
“What about you?” he asked.
“We’ve always had tons of outdoor cats at home,”
I said. “A few dogs over the years. Cows. Sheep. Goats. Bunch of chickens.”
“What?”
Theo turned to me, his face lit up like the sun. “Did you grow up on a farm or something?”
“Actually, yeah.”
We both laughed.
“That explains that,”
he said. “Do they all have names?”
“You try naming that many animals,” I said.
“Fair.”
“The dogs and cats do. A few of the others—but I can never remember them all.”
We were both smiling and sipping our coffee as we thought about trying to give unique names to that many animals.
“I’m guessing you did not grow up on a farm?”
I asked. “Your mom’s allergies and all? And if your dad can’t deal with mess—”
He shook his head. “No. Definitely not on a farm. It felt like it sometimes, though.”
“What does that mean?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Lots of chaos, I guess?”
Theo said cryptically. “I’m guessing farm life is kind of hectic with all the animals and work and stuff?”
“Yeah.”
“There you go,” he said.
We walked in easy silence as we made our way towards the dorms. Sipping our coffee made it easy to feel like we didn’t have to fill the silence with conversation, which took away any awkwardness. Before I could come up with another unique topic to keep Theo talking, we arrived outside the dorm building. I stopped and brought my cup to my lips, desperately thinking of a way to continue the conversation with Theo.
He had given me more real information about himself in the last few minutes than I’d gleaned from hours of his Peepers videos. Of course, free coffee always gets a person to open up. However, I was worried that if I let Theo stop talking, he’d hide from me for another week or more. Why that bothered me, I wasn’t sure. He was a new friend. I had to expect getting to know each other would take a while.
“So,”
Theo said, turning to me, “thanks for the coffee. I’ll buy next time.”
“Yeah,”
I teased, “but will you go inside and buy them or will you force me to do it?”
Theo’s face seemed to sag and he was suddenly looking at his feet again. Mentally, I slapped myself on the forehead. I’d spent time with friends like Collin so much that it was natural to tease people about their hangups. It made me forget at times that some people had actual, real feelings.
“Sorry,”
I said. “I was just…it was a joke.”
Theo nodded. “You know, I know you didn’t mean it to be rude.”
“Right.”
He headed towards the doors.
“People are dicks,”
I said, stopping him. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but maybe just ignoring them—”
“It’s easy for you to say,”
Theo said, stepping back over to me. “People always say, ‘oh, just ignore them’ or, ‘turn the other cheek’ or, ‘they’ll get tired of bullying you eventually’. It’s all so easy when you’re not the one dealing with it.”
I stared at him.
“You know what’s worse than being bullied?”
Theo asked.
“What?”
I managed to reply.
“Not knowing who is going to bully you or when,”
he said. “If it was everyone all the time, I probably would just deal with it. I’d know what to expect everywhere I went. It’d be easy to put up some shields and march around campus and not give a crap.”
I frowned.
“But I can be having the best day, and people can be treating me fine,”
he continued. “Then, suddenly, I’m standing somewhere, buying a book for class, and someone screams ‘dick’ or some other insult at me. And it’s all the more humiliating because for a few hours that day, I convinced myself that maybe things were getting better. That maybe not everyone is awful. And I was wrong. I caused my own humiliation by believing my own bullshit. That’s what really fucking hurts.”
It was my turn to look at my shoes.
“And, maybe even worse, no one stands up for me,”
he said, clearing his throat. “And I’m not sure I would want them to, because that might be even more humiliating. Like I can’t stand up for myself. Or it would prove I was affected by what the person screamed at me. But it still stings, man. Because I know no one is standing up for me because they either believe what the person screamed, or they’re too chickenshit to stand up for me because then they might be a target. They’re fine with me being bullied as long as they’re safe.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Yeah, well,”
Theo said.
Then he was walking towards the dorms. At the last second, before he reached for the door to the lobby, he turned to me.
“You’re the only person here who has really stood up for me at all,”
he said. “That day in American Lit. When you glared at that kid and waved for him to turn around. It’s the only time anyone here has done anything to stand up for me. That’s why I was really hurt by that video your friend made on Peepers.”
I looked up at him. He was staring at me, as though inspecting me. Finally, he spoke again.
“So,”
he said, “did you really grow up on a farm? Like, an actual, real farm?”
“My dad’s a farmer,”
I said. “That’s…how he makes his living. Mom’s a teacher. It’s a real farm. Not one of those giant industrial farms or anything, but it’s a farm.”
He stared at me.
“Do you even like gummy candy?” I asked.
He gave me the smallest smile.
“That company fired me as a partner when…well, they fired me,”
he said. “I still bought five bags of their candy the other day at the store. They’re delicious.”
Suddenly, we were smiling at each other. Theo let out a sigh and held his cup up to me.
“Next round’s on me,” he said.
“Okay,” I nodded.
Then he headed inside and dashed into the stairwell.