5. Porter
PORTER
“Ugh, he’s already here,” I mutter to my friend and coworker, Dom. I still have about ten minutes before I can clock out, but I was hoping Will would forget about his plans to meet me.
“Why do you hate him again?” Dom whispers.
“Because he’s a jerk. Quiet or he’ll hear you,” I hiss as Will approaches. Dom laughs as he walks away, leaving me to take Will’s order. Rude. I attempt a forced customer-service smile as he approaches the register. “What can I get for you today?”
“Hey, man! This place is cool. I’ve never been here before.”
I nod in the way I usually do when customers tell me something that has absolutely nothing to do with their order. I guess I should say something, though, because this is my job. “The coffee is pretty good.”
“Awesome. I’m not really picky, though. Caffeine is caffeine, right?” He smiles with his whole face, and I try to ignore how attractive he is, especially as he says something as insane as that.
“Um, no. Good coffee is very important. I can’t imagine where I’d be without it.”
“Is that why you work here?” he asks, sounding as though he’s genuinely curious.
“Sure,” I agree so I don’t need to explain the reason I work is actually for the money. “Do you know what you’d like?” I glance over his shoulder, but frustratingly, no one else has joined the line during this unnecessarily long exchange about caffeine.
“Any recommendations? I like vanilla. What do you usually get?”
“How about an iced vanilla latte?” I suggest. “Those are pretty standard.”
His smile gets even bigger. “Sounds great! Did you want anything? I’m not sure if you get it for free since you work here, but if not, you can add something to my order, and I can bring it to a table.”
“You want to buy me coffee?” I clarify, confused by the offer. “Why?”
“Why not,” he insists. “I’ll have a drink while we work on this project. You should, too. If you want one.”
I normally hate feeling like I owe anyone.
It took over a year with Josie as my best friend before I let her buy me anything, and I still feel guilty about how much she spends on me even though she insists there’s no point in having money if you can’t spend it on other people.
I make sure to keep our apartment spotless as a thank you for all her kindness.
I’ve learned that when there’s not much I can contribute financially, doing other things to make people’s lives easier is the next best thing. Growing up, keeping things running smoothly at home was the one thing I could actually control, and I guess I still do it now too.
But Will did technically ask me for the favor by meeting with him in person when we probably could have messaged about it, so maybe I don’t need to feel guilty about him paying for a coffee… Besides, he owes me a lot more than that.
“Okay, yeah. Thanks.” I add my favorite salted caramel cold brew to his order. I could get it for half price at the end of my shift, but free is better than half.
“No problem.” He pays and pulls out a twenty-dollar bill to add to the nearly empty tip jar.
“What, do you think a big tip is going to get me to do the project for you? I’m not that easy,” I add, only half joking, because damn, I’ve never seen someone put a twenty in the tip jar before. I’m guessing money might not be as tight for him as it is for me since he does it with a smile.
“Nah, I’m not afraid to put in the work,” he replies easily with a laugh, and then he fucking winks.
Oh my god, who is this guy? I can’t ignore it, I have to say something. “Did you just wink at me? For someone who was very quick to point out he’s straight, that seemed pretty flirty.”
He laughs louder this time before he shrugs. “Huh. Yeah, I guess it did. Well, I’ll go find us a table and see you in a few.”
Will is not at all like the version I’ve built up of him in my head. Maybe he’s changed? No, that can’t be right. I shake off that thought as the next customer approaches and focus on the last few minutes of my shift.
My replacement shows up, and as I’m heading around the corner, Dom stops me. “I saw that tip. Will doesn’t seem so bad.”
“He’s probably just rich. That doesn’t make him a good person.”
Dom shrugs. “Either way, tell him to keep coming here if he’s going to tip us like that.”
“Sure,” I agree with a laugh before joining Will at his table. He’s got his laptop open in front of him, and his coffee is already half gone. Mine is waiting for me across from him.
“Hey, you’re done.” He greets me with another huge smile. It’s easy to see how so many girls fall for him when he looks at people like that. “How was your shift?”
“Uh, fine. Thanks again for the coffee.” I take a big sip and close my eyes to savor the taste, urging the caffeine to take effect quickly.
Sunday morning shifts are not my favorite, and I’d much rather be headed home to nap right now, so I need all the help I can get to move through this quickly and go home.
“Don’t mention it. I appreciate you doing this in person. It’s a lot easier for me to process things by talking through them rather than attempting an email or text.”
I nod and take another sip of my coffee. “So, what do we need to do today?”
Will turns his laptop so I can see his screen. “I think we can start by listing out some talking points we can research the different sides of. If there’s any you can think of now, we can talk through them a little so we can anticipate what the other will say to try to counter it.”
I read what he has so far. They’re all pros, which I guess makes sense since that’s the side he’s taking.
Expand knowledge of their community
Promote empathy
Looks good on college applications
Develop career skills and interests
I look up at him. “Can I stereotype you again?” He looks amused by my question as he nods. “You play lacrosse, have a fancy laptop, and you tipped us, like, twice what your drink cost, so I’m guessing that money has never been a huge concern for you, is that accurate?”
“Um, yeah, I guess not. What does that have to do with this project?”
I bite my lip. I don’t particularly want to share my personal history with him, and I think my concerns might give some of it away, but I need to do the project, so I guess I’ll just have to do my best to keep things as generalized as I can.
“These requirements sound great on paper. In practice, though, especially in lower-income areas where students might already have a lot of responsibilities outside of school like jobs, helping take care of family members, things like that, these requirements could add a huge burden. There’s also personal illness, safety, and transportation that could be barriers to completing them.
High school is hard enough for a lot of people, why add even more stress? ”
Will looks up at me. His blue-green eyes draw my attention like they always do, but they look sad, which is a look I haven’t seen on him yet.
It makes something tighten in my gut as he says, “Well, I definitely feel like an entitled asshole, because I hadn’t considered any of that.
I’ll add it all and send you an invite to the doc. ”
“That works.” I hesitate for a moment. I know it isn’t my responsibility to reassure him, he was a dick to Abbey freshman year, and obviously other girls since then if he’s still getting drinks thrown at him.
Not to mention the incident with my bike.
But maybe he isn’t quite as bad a person as I’d assumed, so I add, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think entitled assholes actually label themselves that way, so don’t be too hard on yourself. ”
His smile returns, and I shrug it off, telling myself that I don’t care when he thanks me. I take my laptop out, and we spend some time quietly researching our points. I bookmark a few articles to read later.
After I yawn for the third time, Will looks up with an apologetic smile. “We can be done for today. Maybe we can meet up between classes this week and check in?”
I immediately shut my computer. I definitely need a nap. “Sounds good.”
We pack up our stuff and walk out together, both hesitating outside the coffee shop. There’s a strange tension between us. Will must feel it too because he sighs.
“Okay, I still feel like you hate me and it’s driving me crazy not knowing why. Can you please tell me?”
“You really don’t remember me?” I ask.
“I don’t.” His shoulders slump as if he’s disappointed in himself for not remembering.
“Well, freshman year, you ran over my bike. I don’t have a car, so that was a big loss for me.”
“Oh fuck,” he gasps. “Holy shit, I completely forgot about that. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, walking everywhere really sucked in the winter. Even if it did snow some, it would’ve been nice to have the option when it didn’t.”
He winces. “Wait, didn’t I give you money?
Fuck, I remember being late for a team meeting and not seeing the bike had fallen into the parking spot until I’d already hit it.
I’m sorry, Porter.” He’s shaking his head now, and I can tell the memory is filling back in.
He’d been exactly like this that day too, actually, all flustered and briefly apologetic, except he’d been in such a rush that the apology lasted about ten seconds.
“I’m so sorry, man, I didn’t even see it.
Here, take this, I gotta go. Sorry!” And then he was gone, leaving me standing in the parking lot holding two folded up twenties and a bike with a completely fucked-up wheel.
That day, after knowing what he’d also done to Abbey, I decided I hated Will Carter for being a self-centered asshole.
“Yeah, the rack next to it was full, and I didn’t have a lock. Someone must have knocked it over. You definitely didn’t give me enough, but—”
“Fuck, how much do I owe you?” He cuts me off.
I would’ve loved to hear that question the day it happened. Money was tight—it always is—but freshman year, I hadn’t had anything saved yet, so replacing the bike wasn’t an option. I’d spent every paycheck on things I’d actually needed, and a new bike didn’t make the immediate list.
Looking at Will now though, and how genuinely remorseful he seems years later, I realize he might not actually be a bad guy.
The version of Will Carter I’d built up in my head over two years was assembled from two bad moments and a lot of assumptions. I guess I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge him, and continuing to be so upset years later does seem like a lot of effort for me.
I shrug. “Will, it was two years ago. I eventually got another bike. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though. I can’t believe I did that. I absolutely need to make it up to you. I won’t be able to stop thinking about it until I do.”
“Dramatic, much?” I tease, but I’m smiling a little when I say it. It’s clear to me now that Will didn’t run over my bike on purpose. He was just careless and in a hurry.
“I really am going to do everything in my power to make it up to you. You just wait and see, Porter. I’ll make you forget the bike incident ever even happened,” he promises.
“You sure you want to make a promise like that?”
“Positive.”
I smile despite myself. There’s something different about this interaction with him. It’s playful, easier than I expected and than I wanted it to be. It would’ve been simpler if he’d stayed exactly who I thought he was. If I could hate him from a distance and write him off as an asshole.
But this interaction is making me realize there’s more to Will Carter than shitty first impressions.
“I’ll text you about this week,” he says finally when I don’t respond.
“Yeah, okay,” I agree. “See ya.”
“Be prepared, Porter. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
I turn and walk away first with a wave over my shoulder. I don’t look back, but I’m still smiling when I round the corner to hop on my bike to head home.