Thizz, a Love Story, page 4
I really like Patty. She is the only person that knows about my parents that hasn’t given me the look. You know that look people give when they feel sorry for you, like it is killing them to even speak to you. I hate that look.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” the heavily perfumed she-devil at the register squeaks when I walk past her.
I only have one gripe about working at Eureka Coffee. Her name is Mary. She’s Patty’s granddaughter, so there isn’t much I can do about her. I think Lucy and Patty hoped we would be friends. A small part of me thought we would be too, but Mary didn’t get the memo. She’s been a bitch to me since the moment I walked through the door because I actually get paid to be here. She works for free as a favor to her grandmother, or so she says. I think she does it to get out of the house. Her parents are super strict. Mary isn’t allowed to date until she turns eighteen. If I had a daughter who looked like Mary, I would keep her locked up too. Mary has a flawless smile and amazing blue eyes. Both compliments of her father, who is the town’s dentist and George Clooney’s long-lost twin. Her mother owns a fancy salon and day spa next door, Lady Luxe, so she always looks like she just stepped out of a magazine. She’s a senior at St. Bernard’s, an all-girl Catholic high school, and today she has decided to work in her uniform. The few boys that come in love it. These little acts of rebellion are what keeps me from totally hating her.
“Please tell me you heard from CAL so I don’t have to listen to you whine about it to my grandmother anymore,” she quips and applies a fresh coat of pink lipstick in the hand mirror she keeps next to the register. “I’m so glad I was accepted early to the University of San Francisco. All this waiting must really suck for you.” Mary loves to throw her early admission in my face. I decide to take the high road and ignore her snide comment. It makes my shift a lot smoother when I don’t try to defend myself.
I pull a cup from the order line and wonder how long it’s been sitting up here. Customer service isn’t a high priority at Eureka Coffee. Most of our customers are friends of Patty’s. They don’t mind waiting ten minutes for their order if the gossip is good. The café is small. There are only seven tables inside and four outside, and they’re all full. It’s very rare to find an empty table at this time of day.
I make a large vanilla latte, set the cup on the counter, and reach for a lid to find there are none. God forbid Mary restocks the counter. I tell the customer to hold on and head to the storeroom. I’m only gone a few seconds when a piercing squeal that resembles my name echoes through the café. Mary has only one physical flaw, her voice. She sounds like a three-year-old that sucked all the helium out of a balloon. I would take my time, but I don’t want to torture the customers. I grab a stack of lids and hurry back.
“There’s a line.” Mary spins on the stool at the register, and her thick black hair floats behind her like a super hero cape.
“Thank you Captain Obvious.” I toss the lids on the counter and go back to work.
I get three cappuccinos and a large Americano out in record time. I’m working on my fourth cup when I hear someone say, “Excuse me, can I have extra foam on that?”
“No problem,” I reply without looking up as I pour the steamed milk into a cup and add a dollop of extra foam on top. “Small latte, with extra foam.” I place the cup on the counter and start on the next order.
“Thanks,” says the voice. This time I recognize it.
I whip my ahead around and see Nick Marino standing in front of me.
“Hi, I uh, I mean, you’re welcome.” I look behind him to make sure Katie isn’t in the corner with a dart gun ready to take me out. I also kind of hoped to see Matt. But Nick’s alone. Totally alone and talking to me.
“What time do you get off? Can I give you a ride home?”
Holy hell, Nick Marino is offering me a ride. First Matt and now Nick. I wonder if Matt knows he’s here. I wonder why I even care what Matt thinks. He isn’t the one standing here with a smile that could melt an iceberg. For all I know, Matt was setting me up with Nick yesterday. That doesn’t change the fact that I sort of like Matt. Even if he doesn’t like me. I don’t have time to debate this. Nick is waiting for an answer. “A ride would be awesome,” I say with way more enthusiasm than called for.
“Ok, let’s get back to work.” Patty steps between the counter and my view of Nick. “She gets off at eight, hot shot.”
Nick nods politely at Patty, then looks around her and smiles at me. He takes two backwards steps, holding my gaze, then turns around and leaves. When the door closes, every female in the café exhales. Mary looks at me like I’ve just sprouted horns and a tail. I escape to the bathroom before she can launch into her interrogation.
The lighting in here is a lot better than the bathroom at school. It doesn’t make me look like the undead, but I’m still me. Boring. Weird. Me. My nails are too short, my chest is too small, and I have on the same socks I wore yesterday. Why the hell would Nick Marino ask me out? I know I shouldn’t care or even think about Matt, but I do. For an hour I agonized over the idea that Matt was interested in me, and I liked that feeling. I definitely felt something. Although, it could’ve been the egg salad sandwich I ate for lunch. None of that matters now, because I was totally wrong. Matt didn’t invite me to the parking lot to ask me out, he was setting me up with Nick. I didn’t see that yesterday because I obviously suck at boys. Ok, so Matt doesn’t like me. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel something for him. His smile, those eyes. I sigh just thinking about him. Do I just ignore the tingles he gives me? Forget all the juvenile fantasies I have about Matt and horses and happily ever after just because Nick Marino asked me out?
Yes. Hell to the yes. I have an opportunity to spend six or seven minutes alone with Nick Marino and I’m taking it.
As soon as I step out of the bathroom, Mary slides off her stool and meets me at the train. Patty calls the espresso machine the train because of its steaming process. Her late husband was a train collector; they visited dozens of railroad museums, and he preferred the old steam trains over all the others.
“Why is Nick Marino talking to you?” Mary crosses her arms and leans her hip against the counter.
“How did you know that was Nick Marino?” Mary’s overprotective parents barely let her out of the house to work here. I doubt she’s ever crossed paths with him.
“Everyone knows who Nick is. He’s the grandson of Mariann Marino, owner of JM Developers; they only own half the real estate in the county and the largest construction company in California.” Mary rolls her eyes. “So what, are you tutoring him or something?”
Mary doesn’t believe a guy like Nick would be interested in me. I don’t believe it either, but I’m not going to let her ruin the moment. “I know him from school.” Sort of. “We hung out at the Rack Room on Friday.” I push her aside. “He was just offering me a ride home.”
Mary’s eyes widen. “You went to the Rack Room. With Nick Marino?” The bells above the door jingle, and three women from the neighboring health food store walk in. Unlike most of our clientele, they’re always in a hurry to get back to work.
“We have customers.”
“Fine,” Mary scowls and returns to her perch. I catch her eyeing me the rest of my shift like she’s trying to figure out how I managed to fool Nick Marino into thinking I’m someone he wants to hang out with. You and me both, sister.
Somewhere around seven o’clock, I stop trying to analyze why Nick has offered me a ride home and whether or not Matt had anything to do with it, and I start to freak out. Questions, doubts, and nightmares flood my brain. Did he come into the café knowing I would be here? Does that mean he was thinking about me? My heart does this thing where it stops beating for a minute then bounces against my chest like a mental patient trying to escape capture. I don’t like Nick. I don’t want to like him. Being with someone like Nick means being on everyone’s radar. I like to fly low, real low. So far below the radar that nobody knows I exist. I’m overanalyzing this. He offered me a ride home, that’s it. I’ll take the ride, thank him, and say goodnight. This doesn’t have to turn into something it’s not.
At five minutes to eight, Nick’s car pulls in front of the café. I say goodbye to Patty and ignore Mary’s dirty look. I open the door and walk through it as if I’m walking through a portal to a land where someone like Nick Marino is waiting for someone like me to get off work. This is a fairy tale moment if I’ve ever seen one. Or not. Maybe it’s just a really nice guy offering a really pathetic girl a ride home.
Nick’s leaning against the passenger door in a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. His arms are crossed over his chest like one of those old photos of James Dean. Holy hell.
“Hey Dani.” He smiles and opens the door for me. I say hi without meeting his eyes.
Nick gets in and starts the car. A classic rock song blares from the speakers. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes and turns the music down.
“It’s ok, I like that song.” It was “More than a Feeling” by Boston. Johnson has been schooling me on classic rock since I was eight. I know way more about seventies rock and eighties hair bands than anyone my age should.
Nick smiles like he doesn’t believe me and switches to the radio. “What time do you have to be home?”
The question catches me off guard. Why does it matter, if we’re going straight to Lucy’s house? “Uh, I’m not sure.” I don’t want to tell him I’ve never been out before, so I have no idea if I have a curfew.
“Well, there’s a bonfire at Gold Beach, do you think you can go?”
Something that feels like excitement brews in my belly. Do I want to go out with Nick, or do I want to go home and stuff my face with chips and salsa while watching old episodes of America’s Next Top Model? This is exactly the kind of thing Lucy was hoping for. Me out on a Saturday night. This is her idea of normal. I’ll do it for Lucy. “Yeah, I can go.”
“Sweet.” Nick pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards the highway. His car is loud and takes some effort to drive. He’s constantly shifting gears and checking gauges. It takes the pressure off making small talk. Once we’re on the highway, he turns the volume up on the stereo to drown out the silence that I wouldn’t really call awkward. The stereo is on a local radio station. Through the static I can barely recognize the Killers’ “Mr. Brightside.”
“The reception sucks out here. You want to hear a CD?” Nick pulls a leather case from between the seats and hands it to me.
I take the case from him and set it in my lap. You can learn a lot about a person through their music collection. “Sure.” I flip it open and look through the first few pages. He’s got all the latest music—Weezer, Snoop Dogg, even Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl.” It’s the other stuff that impresses me, like Otis Redding’s Greatest Hits and an old Bon Jovi CD. “I didn’t think guys like you were so eclectic.”
“Oh really, what kind of guy do you think I am?” Nick raises his eyebrow in that sexy, curious way sexy guys like Nick do to make self-conscious girls like me feel like they’re going to pee their pants.
I can’t say what I’m thinking—the kind of guy that gets what he wants, who he wants, whenever he wants, the kind of guy that would never ask me out. Instead, I open a page that contains the Rolling Stones, Dr. Dre, Sublime, and Santana. I hold it up so he can see my point.
Nick smiles. “My uncle owns a bar in San Francisco. I know most of the music from his juke box, but I pretty much listen to everything. What about you?”
I’m about to tell him we have a lot in common musically when I flip the page. My eyes drift to the last slot on the right, to an Eagles CD. I run my hand over the picture of the sun setting behind the hotel and remember the long melodic guitar solo that filled our SUV the last time I saw my father. I never realized how much missing him hurt until this moment. I bite my lip until I taste blood.
“Do you want to hear that one?”
“No.” I close the case. “This is fine.” The static is so bad it sounds like aliens are trying to make contact.
“How about a little classic rock?” Nick hits a button on the CD player and Motley Crue’s “Without You” fills the car.
Johnson’s tutorials on classic rock versus eighties hair bands have finally paid off. “I love this song.” I feel the smile form on my face. An honest-to-God smile. I look at Nick and feel the urge to thank him, but I have no idea why. All he did was push play.
I listen to the very romantic lyrics and wonder if this song will ever mean something to us. Do I even want there to be an Us? I have a plan, a mission—CAL. Nick is not in the plan. Nick is a plan killer. I look at the one thing that can deter me from my future, and his lips are moving. He’s singing. His eyes flit in my direction. He’s singing to me.
Without you, without you, a sailor lost at sea. Without you, woman, the world comes down on me.
This song is telling me one day my heart will wilt and die. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because right now I can’t think of anything better than falling madly, deeply in love with Nick Marino.
I’m sitting on a log outside the glow of the fire when I see them. Dani looks like a frightened animal being lured to slaughter. Nick is oblivious to the anguish he’s causing her, parading her around like she’s a prize. Congratulations, Nick. You win. I slam the beer in my hand and reach for another. He could’ve had the balls to tell me he was going out with Dani tonight. I wonder if he had this planned when he asked me if I liked her. Why even ask? I slam another beer and crush the can before tossing it in the sand.
“Hey Matt,” Haley calls from somewhere in the dark. “I thought you were coming with Nick? Where is he?”
Nick is never hard to find in a crowd. He shines like a fucking lucky coin. “He’s over there.”
Haley turns towards the fire then murmurs some obscenities under her breath. “What is he doing with her?” She plops down next to me.
I shrug and take the cup from her hand. I sniff it; it smells like fruit juice and alcohol—Sex on the Beach most likely. These chicks are so predictable. I down it and toss the cup.
“Hey!” Haley retrieves it from the sand. “What’s wrong with you?” She dusts it off and I notice she’s blinged out the red solo cup with her name in glittery girly writing.
I shrug. I don’t know why I’m so irritated. It isn’t like I have a right to be. I don’t own Dani. Hell, I didn’t even ask her out. I didn’t have the balls and now it’s too late.
Haley sits next to me and follows my line of sight to Nick and Dani. “I’m not the only one that got snaked, huh?” I don’t answer her. I don’t know the answer. “So, you like her?” Haley offers me a joint. She always has weed.
I take it from her and she hands me a lighter. I put it to my lips and inhale as I hold the flame to the other end. Smoke fills my lungs. I hold it in for a long time before exhaling. I hand the lit joint back to Haley. “She’s cool,” I say. It’s all I am willing to admit.
Haley takes a puff and hands it back to me. “Don’t worry, it won’t last. She’s not like us. She doesn’t party.”
“How do you know?” How does anyone know anything about Dani? I’ve never seen her talk to anyone at school. Believe me, I would’ve noticed.
“She told Heather she doesn’t party. She goes to book clubs or something.”
“Yeah right.” Probably just another lie Heather made up about Dani. I can’t keep track of all the rumors she spread about her. I take another hit and look at Haley. She’s wearing her Eureka High hoodie with black jeans and furry boots. Her hair looks curlier than normal, and she has on a sweet-smelling perfume. I can smell it through the weed. Out of all the girls in her clique, she’s the only one I bother to talk to. I’ve known her the longest. She’s a regular fixture in all my class pictures. “So, what’s up with you and Nick?”
Haley looks at Nick, who hasn’t let go of Dani’s hand since he got here, and takes a puff. “We hooked up a couple of weeks ago, after the game against McKinnleyville. I thought he liked me, but you know Nick. With guys like that, you just sort of wait it out until it’s your turn.”
“That’s all you want? To be some douche bag’s turn? You’re too good for that, Haley.” I look at Dani. “You’re too good for him.”
I fall onto my back and stare at the stars. “I bet Ashley is looking through her telescope right now.”
“How is your sister? I heard she’s...better.” Haley falls next to me and passes back the joint.
I take it from her and check the end to make sure it’s still lit. “She’s good,” I say in between hits. I don’t want to think about Ashley right now. I close my eyes. I don’t want to think about anything.
The laughter and bright glow of the fire fades as we walk in the brisk night air. Anxious butterflies have replaced the knot in my stomach. I focus on him, his hand, his smile, his eyes—and try to forget the horrible welcome I received when we got here. That was exactly the thing I was trying to avoid. Luckily, Heather wasn’t among the gaggle of blondes that looked like they wanted to push me in the fire. I have a feeling dating Nick Marino is going to be bad for my health. Mentally and physically. It’s obvious to me and everyone else that I don’t belong with Nick. But I can’t leave. I don’t even want to. He’s like a drug and I can’t say no.
I’m not even sure any of this is real. I would say I’m dreaming, but I never dream this big. Nick grips my hand and pulls me closer. He leans towards me and I feel the warmth of his breath on my face. That’s real. He is real.
“You make great lattes,” he says with a little laugh.
“That wasn’t the first latte I made for you.”
“I know,” he says with a smile.
He knows, which means he has noticed me before today. “So, is that why you asked me out, you like my lattes?” He must’ve asked Matt to send the message so we could meet properly. Knowing this makes me feel better about Nick and me becoming us.
