One. (But Really Two)

The day turns dark, and rain begins to come down heavily, as though trying to drown the apartment and all its beasts. I sit under the blankets on the worn down sofa and listen to the water spill against the windows and onto the people below. The sky is a bruised blue, a rebellion against the time (only four p.m.), and soon I have to go get Caillen from the local coffee shop where Aunt Lillian watches him until he is too young to stay.

As i put on my raincoat my eyes catch the reflection of a girl staring back at me.

She is messy, and disheveled, and not quite pretty.

“...but art isn’t supposed to be pretty, it’s supposed to make you feel something.”

I smile with a kind of recklessness and, forgetting the raincoat, close the door to apartment 221 and step out into the rain.

Walking towards the cafe, I watch the lost cars go by. The street smells faintly of cigarettes and sad boys and cheap perfume. The rain slows to a drizzle and Karmic Cafe appears up ahead, its windows grey with foggy kisses.

As i open the door the familiar smell of coffee and paint covers me like a curtain. Low voices and the clatter of plates is loud against the weather outside.

I look around at the familiar walls, draped with dusty burgundy and gold.

“Shit!” someone says from the back kitchen and there is a shatter as glass hits the floor.

Lillian’s broken something again, I smile and pull aside the beaded curtain in the doorway. Caillen is the first to see me, and he grins as he organizes tea packets into jars. Lillian is bent over with a dustpan in her hand, cursing under her breath as she sweeps up the little diamonds that litter the ground. I laugh and she looks up.

“Hi baby, don’t laugh, would you mind getting the trashcan for me? There is a pot brewing and you've got to turn that off. Is anybody at the counter? Damn my shaky hands.”

“No one is at the counter Lillian. Here, let me help.”

I turn and grab the trashcan, dumping the little diamonds into it. The coffee is boiling over so I grab a mug and turn the heat off.

“Caillen? Are you o.k. in here for a while?”

He nods happily so I turn and walk out of the kitchen, coffee in hand.

There is a bookshelf in the corner, and I grab a worn favorite and curl into a couch. Outside it has started raining again, and there are shadows on the glass. The door opens and a guy stumbles in with a cigarette hanging lazily from his mouth. He’s gorgeous in a depressed way, black jeans slung low on his hips. His hair is wet from grease or rain or maybe both. He walks to the counter and orders his coffee black, and i'm only half reading the book by now. It isn't until he turns around and scans the room for a place to sit that he sees me, and takes his cigarette out of his mouth.

He looks at me and i look at him,

and then he is grinning like a cheshire cat

and walking over.

“It has a terrible ending”

“What?” I blink.

“That book. It sucks.”

The book.

Blushing, I flip it over, pretending to look at its cover, and I feel him sitting down beside me.

“What’s your name?” He asks in a way that makes you wonder if he is talking to you or himself.

“Um, Syria.” I say and look at him.

The corners of his mouth turn up.

“Like the place?”

I don't respond, just smile. He pulls out another cigarette and sticks it in his mouth.

“I’m Adam.”

“Why don't you?”

“Why don't I what?

“Why don't you like the book?”

He looks at me and shrugs in a melodramatic way. “Its just like the author purposely made the most pretentious character he could.” He rolled his eyes and took another puff.

I laughed to myself, thinking that if he were some character somewhere, people would think the exact same thing about him.

And he’s right, but I don't want to admit it.

I stand up, and the book falls off my lap.

He grabs the book off the floor, winks, and walks over to the counter.

“Two blacks, please.”

The lady at the counter, not Lillian but her coworker, Beatrice, raises her eyebrows at him. “That all?”

He rolls his eyes again and flicks his cigarette onto the counter.

I look at him and realize hes buying me coffee.

“Wait, i have to go. I have to take my little brother home.”

He takes a puff, smiles, and says

“Lets go.”