Bright Eyes

5. Coffee Shop Soundtrack

Somewhere a mid-2000s pop-punk favorite began to play.

    Guitar riffs greeted the boys upon their entrance into the cafe, a place of pine-paneled walls, cozy wooden furniture, and the smell of coffee and pastries. Suspended above them was a constellation of warm white lights, individual light bulbs that hung by wires of their own, and in the middle of the high ceiling hung a modern chandelier that looked a bit like an oversized, upside-down, modern lamp stand, the light bright and alive against the silhouette of branches upon the walls of the shade. Around them, the cafe was a busy place: almost all tables seemed to be occupied, and the noise from conversations, music, sips, and munches swam in their ears.

    Why they were here, Damien was to blame. The second Sander entered the dorm room, returning from his shower, Damien announced, "I'm hungry. Let's go to the cafe." And it seemed a good idea to them all. Food was a good idea.

    The boys made their way to the counter, walking to the back of a queue. And that's when a thought came to mind.

    "Damien."

    Damien looked behind him, at Sander who called.

    "I've got a question," said Sander, as they moved a step forward. "What were you doing in the fourth formers' bathroom?"

    Damien shrugged. "Just needed to piss," he said.

    "Wouldn't you have used the one on your floor?"

    "I was downstairs," he answered. "My sister was asking for extra cash. She spent a lot on hanging out with her friends over the summer. So I gave her some." He paused, and checked the line, the speed at which they were moving forward. "I was going up the stairs, and when I got to the fourth formers' floor, I needed to piss, so I did." He paused again, glanced at the line before him. "What's up with the rule of having to use the 'respective' bathrooms, anyway? There's no difference. They all look the same to me."

    Sander sniggered, and said no more. Weird coincidence, he thought.

    Waiting didn't take long. A few minutes or so, and they now stood directly before the counter. Captivated, Max went on to stare at the pastries displayed behind the glass below. Sander shifted his eyes over to the board mounted on the wall behind the counter, and skimmed the items on the menu, scanning the lists for something to order.

    At the back of the counter stood a boy who seemed to be in his late teens, nineteen the likely guess, looking more like a college student than the typical employed man. Both Damien and Jack looked up at him. He towered over most people, standing a little over six feet tall; his nose was aquiline in shape, his skin was fair, and his hair was dyed green, dark roots apparent underneath. Pinned to the black apron he wore was a nameplate with the name TJ printed on its surface.

    For a moment, he kept his gaze down, fixing some things behind the counter as quick as he could, grabbing a pen and a pad afterwards, before he said, "Welcome to The Raven's Nest. May I take your order?" Then he looked up, first glancing at Jack, then catching sight of Damien, and his eyes flickered with recognition.

    "'Sup, bruh?" greeted Jack, with a smile.

    Damien gave the green-haired boy a fist bump.

    "Jack. Damien," said the boy TJ. "What's up?"

    "Good. Good, man. Good to be back here," said Damien, and he meant it.

    "So," said TJ. A click from the retractable pen in hand. "Anything I could get for ya?"

    Without hesitation, Damien said, "Yeah. I'm starving. One House Blend Choco with Salted Caramel"—the green-haired boy scribbled the item down onto a sheet of his pad—"and a Club Sandwich."