Black Coffee

Turns out, Neil was just as bad at talking to customers as Andrew was, and he wasn’t any better when it came to actually making coffee. Three burns and two dissatisfied customers later, Andrew figured it would be a lot easier to just hand him a mop and leave the rest up to Neil's digression. It was a tactic that worked for the first few weeks until Neil got busy chatting with some members of the college Exy team that only came in to mooch off of Renee’s employee discount.

Somehow, she still got an employee discount even though she was only an employee for two months out of the year. Andrew chalked this down to how much of a people-person she was. Most of the characters Neil talked up were ex-high school players who decided to continue playing in college. He recognized Matthew Boyd because he tutored him in Algebra II while he was a sophomore and Matt was a junior. Andrew wasn’t particularly good at math but eidetic memory made it easy for him to memorize formulas. Of course he knew Danielle Wilds, because the two never seemed to separate. High school sweethearts was a trope that Andrew was getting sick of. He had never properly dated anyone, but even the thought of a serious romantic relationship with someone was enough to send bile into his throat.

He knew Allison Reynolds both because she was dating Renee and her coffee order was both overcomplicated and overspecific. Allison was a woman of taste, and she tipped well. He tolerated her because of this, to say the least. Saying the most would be acknowledging the fact that he didn’t want to gouge his eyes out every time she walked through the cafe door. 

Seth Gordon was a foe, and that had nothing to do with the fact that Andrew had almost stabbed him with a plastic spork that one time.

If Andrew had ever actually liked someone, in the platonic sense, who was on the Palmetto Exy team-high school or college, there was no clear distinction between the two, in his opinion-it would’ve been Kevin Day. An Edgar Allen transfer, and Andrew’s only friend for the first few weeks he was in Palmetto. Then, he went and joined the Exy team after a very convincing conversation with Thea Muldani and stopped coming into the shop.

He said, "I don't really have time to hang out anymore."

And "Caffeine stunts your growth."

It wouldn't have been so bad if Kevin had at least sent him a text every now and then. So much for buddies, right? Despite what mathematics suggests, two negatives do not always make a positive. In this instance, two negatives made one socially accepted Kevin and one betrayed Andrew. Positive negative.

At least half of these kids weren’t originally from Palmetto, but that didn’t matter because it was Exy that brought them here. It was Exy that got them to stay and it was Exy that made it their home.

It’s safe to say that Neil’s new-found interest in the sport only served to annoy Andrew more than his regular incompetence did, but Andrew didn’t think that this hobby, or whatever you’d like to call it, would be much of a problem. Thanks to the public school system, Neil was out of his hair most hours on Monday through Friday. The only issue with this was that when he wasn’t in Andrew’s hair, he was in Andrew’s head.

When he walked into Hatford’s this particular Friday afternoon, he looked extremely Neil-ish. That was to say he looked like he had just been in several fights and won absolutely none of them. His appearance served no purpose other than to annoy Andrew.

“I saw you at school.” He removed his apron from a hanger and tied it around his waist. 

“What, and I mean this with as much grace as possible, the fuck are you talking about, Junkie?” 

"I don't know how you got here before me though. I bet I'm faster than you" 

"I don't doubt that."

Neil got himself back on track, “So I was walking down the hall, talking to Kevin-”

"Day?"

"How many Kevin's do you know?"

“None. Why were you talking to Kevin Day?” He could deal with everyone else. Not Kevin. 

He said it as if it should’ve been the most obvious thing in the world. “We knew each other when we went to Edgar Allen.”

Nathaniel-Neil was too perfect. Of course he attended Edgar Allen. It was a breeding ground for pretty boys with tempers. Neil wasn’t the exception.

“You went to that shithole?”

“Yeah. Do I get to tell my story?”

Andrew gestured for him to continue.

“Kevin Day was feeding my ego, telling me I should join the Exy team next year, then I saw you talking to this cheerleader. I waved but you ignored me.” 

“You’re sure it was me?”

“Yes, because then Kevin said ‘Oh, that’s Minyard, he’s an asshole.”

He knew both Aaron and Andrew were assholes because there was a brief period of time in which the three were close, so that comment was probably fair. It was hard to say who was a bigger one though. Possibly Aaron. Probably Andrew.

“Aren’t you going to college next year?” Then, after realization struck him, he said, “I never gave you my last name, it could’ve been my doppelganger. If he was flirting with a cheerleader he must have been my evil twin. I’d never flirt with a cheerleader.”

“Ha. I’m still a junior due to…” Neil’s mind moved a million miles per second. Switching from subject to subject without a second thought. “Stuart had it written on the pay stubs.”

“What?”

“Your last name. Minyard”

This was rather infuriating. Neil had no business knowing how much Andrew made. No one did. “The fuck are you doing looking at my paycheck.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Still. You have no right to-” It was unintentional but somehow, Andrew had pinned Neil against the counter. Sometimes he saw red and it was difficult to stop. It was not going to be another spork situation. It wasn’t. “-to…”

“To…?”

Anger and something he couldn’t quite put a name to yet filled him. If he combusted, Neil would be caught in the crossfire, which he didn't think he minded. Bile was rushing forward and he couldn’t quite get a grip on the reality of this situation. Neil knew how much he made. Neil was in between his arms. Neil wouldn’t stop talking about goddamn Exy and Kevin.

He took one step back. Two. 

Andrew turned, “I’m going on break. Don’t burn this place down. Or do. I don’t care.”

-

Some would say that the employee break room was the best place to take your lunch break. Andrew, personally, thought it was in the alleyway, right next to the dumpster. The smell didn't even bother him. Much.

Nicotine mingled with the chilly February air.

He threw the cigarette out of his mouth seconds after lighting it, then started on another. Smoking wouldn’t solve his problems, it never did, but it certainly dulled them. 

The back door creaked open, and out came Neil. He was beginning to miss when he was the only one working in the cafe. When the only unnecessary conversation he had to engage in was with customers. 

"Hey."

When Andrew didn't respond, he took it as a hint to continue talking,

“Look, I’m sorry. I won’t look at your paycheck anymore if that’s what you want. Even though it was technically an accident”

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”

“Someone might've mentioned it once or twice.” A lot of things were Neil-ish. Like the smile he wore after being insulted.

"You're forgiven. This time." He couldn't tell if he really meant it.

He knew he did when Neil asked, “Do you think I should do it?”

“What?”

Neil shuffled from one foot to another, “Join the Exy team next year. I haven’t played since Freshman year but I might be good. Edgar Allen trains us like we're olympians.”

“I don’t care what you do.” Except he did. There was a tiny part of Andrew that was begging him to ask Neil to stay. To work with him behind the counter until graduation. To have witty and vaguely insulting conversations with him until the sun set. He thought better of it. 

“I think I’m going to do it.’

“Who’s working right now?”

“I closed the shop.”

“You can’t do that, we need business. Your uncle's going to be pissed.”

“So? No one was coming by anyway.”

“Does your brain not function properly? Or are you intentionally a dumbass? You saw my paycheck.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Of course you don’t.” Andrew gave Neil a once-over before saying, “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Back to work. We need to make up the minutes you wasted on your useless apology.”

-

If Andrew didn’t get along with anyone, it wasn’t because he didn’t try. It wasn’t his fault that the world was filled with condescending assholes, himself included. Truth be told, Aaron wasn’t the evil twin. Andrew was.

Maybe that was why he was closing tonight, when it should've been Neil. Right now, he should’ve been on his way to Jean's house and Neil should've been wiping down tables. Jean needed help with English and of course the only night he was available was on Saturday. Andrew should've known not to mess with the schedules. But when Neil asked him to cover for him tonight, how could he say no?

The only person he could really rely on was himself, he's known this for years, and now he was paying for his trust. He was too loose with it.

It was as if Andrew summoned him. Saying his name was a curse itself. He wrung the rag out and said, “Neil should be here. Neil should be doing this. What the fuck is the point of a co-worker if you’re still the only one doing anything-”

The entrance bell chimed.

Andrew struggled not to flinch.

Ultimately, he didn’t, but it’s the trying that matters. 

What was with Neil and dramatic entrances? 

“The sign says that we’re closed. You should know that.”

“Okay, I do know that but-” Neil’s voice was frantic and he sounded out of breath. He didn’t look too good either, and that was saying something. His hair was tied up in an orange bandanna and his fingers were stained with something black. “Hide me?”

“Do I even want to know?”

“You will. Soon."

"Are you running for something or are you just going to keep giving me cryptic answers?"

"Thank you."

Neil didn’t even bother flipping the counter up to get into the employee area. He just jumped over them and bolted into the break room. 

The break room has a back door that leads to Andrew's alleyway. The alleyway goes two ways and if Neil chose correctly, one of those ways would secure his freedom from whatever he was running from. Andrew had a feeling he was going to find out.

We’ve established that the sign outside says, “Sorry! We’re Closed!” but obviously, this asshole dressed in all black couldn't read. Was Andrew the only literate person in Palmetto? He had nothing against goths and especially nothing against illiterate goths, but the people who just walked through the door didn't fit into either category.

They were Ravens, and their team hoodies made sure everyone was aware of that. Edgar Allen was a prep-school that took everything too seriously, sports included. The Ravens were the douche bags that attended the school. Their hubris was unmatched. Everyone knew the Ravens, whether you had an actual conversation with them or not and everyone knew Riko Moriyama, the nephew of the school's Exy Coach.

Riko broke Kevin Day’s left hand. That's why he moved to Palmetto. At least, that’s what Kevin had told him. He wasn’t so sure about the things Kevin Day had told him anymore, but he was positive that Riko was a prick, broken hand withstanding.

“Okay, seriously, what the fuck? We. Are. Closed.”

“I’m looking for someone.” Riko peered his head around, searching.

“Well, I’m no one so,” he spun in an overdramatic circle and made an obnoxious show of looking around the shop as well, “don’t know what to tell you.”

Riko ignored him, “I’m looking for a redhead. Short, runs real fast, tells you to eat shit when you catch him doing obviously illegal things. He vandalized our court.”

“Oh?”

One of the Ravens spoke up, “We know he’s here, so if you could just cut this short and-”

“I’m going to stop you right there and let you in on a little secret. I do not give a single shit about Exy. I do not give a single shit about your court. I don’t know why some redhead would run here since we are very obviously closed.”  He couldn’t stress how closed they were. 

“And I don’t know why you think that I would give you information on him, even if he was here. But as you can see, your little vandal isn't. So now that I've told you something about myself, how about you share something about yourselves?”

Was Riko’s tipping point that last comment? Or was it when his precious court was allegedly defiled by Neil? In the end, it didn’t matter when he decided to snap, because Andrew was going to pay for it. He was always going to pay for it. Even though this was Neil’s punishment and Andrew just got stuck with it. Yet another thing Andrew was doing for Neil.

Riko took the first swing but it was a Raven who went down first. Then another. And another. Andrew had been in plenty of fights before, that was part of the reason he didn’t go to school, but there were just too many of them to take on by himself. Everytime one fell, two more came up, ready to take their place. 

The conspiracy eventually managed to pin Andrew down on the table. Arms. Legs. It didn’t matter how much he struggled, this was a fact. There were many things you were born knowing, biologically.  Then there were things that you learned. Things that were instilled within you with the passing of time. Learned behavior was what they called it, and here was Andrew’s learned behavior; knowing when to stay down and fucking live.

He supposed this developed when he was seven, the first time he was told to say please. He’d hated the word ever since, he cringed whenever a customer said it. It continued on with the tickling and was set in stone when Cass Spear’s son came home in between deployments. He wouldn't speak his name, even after all these years. The asshole didn't deserve it. Andrew had been staying down and living for as long as he could remember, and Hatford always said that if someone wanted the money in the register, you should just give it to them. But Riko didn’t want the money in the register. He wanted Neil’s head on a platter.

He took Andrew’s face in his hands. He looked angry. Andrew thought he did too. 

“What the hell do you want?” He forced his voice to sound calm. A light in the dark.

“You know what I want.”

Andrew wouldn’t let him have it. If anyone was going to kill Neil, it would be Andrew. He spit in Riko’s face and said what he thought would be his last words, “You can't have him.”

So maybe his behavior only applied to situations that he thought he could make it out of. Obviously, this did not constitute as one. Goodbye, cruel world. Fuck you very much!

The beating probably lasted seven minutes in total but it felt like seven years. He didn’t scream or cry. Not when they laughed at his expenses. Not when he thought he was on the verge of passing out. Only one Raven left with bloodied knuckles. Riko Moriyama really was a prick. Kevin was right.  

Andrew lay on the table, alone and tired. He probably looked aesthetically pathetic in that moment. The cigarette he’d put in his mouth only added to this image.

“Next time, Nathaniel,” he felt comfortable calling him Nathaniel now. Mostly because he decided that they were most certainly not friends. Andrew didn’t know much about the subject of friends, but he was pretty sure they didn’t take beatings for each other. Taking a punch-or in his case, several punches-for someone seemed like a much more intimate thing to do. So yeah, definitely not friends. “You close the fucking cafe.”