Poses
Chapter 3
Devon stepped out of Monk’s and realized he had nowhere to go, for the next couple of hours anyway, so he hopped back into the Jeep and started driving instinctively to where he always went when he had no agenda.
Salt Lake Coffee Break.
He pulled into the parking lot and whipped the Jeep into an open space next to some graffiti scrawled dumpsters and headed inside, noting as he always did the handwritten sign warning patrons not to park in the Arby’s parking lot as “they will tow your booty!”
He smiled and stepped inside.
Jenny was right, nothing changes.
Hideous, unmatching couches still sulked in every corner, wooden coffee tables with carvings all over them (he himself had carved “TROGGDOR!” in one of them) sat in front of each, and local art hung on the wall with small price tags.
He walked up to the counter and was disappointed when he didn’t recognize the barista.
“Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you?”
“Funny. I need a medium coffee in a large cup, and the rest filled with soy milk.”
“So you want a large soy café au lait.”
“No, that’s with steamed milk mate. I just want it cold.”
“Ah, right on. The semantic discount. That’ll be 40 cents for the soy though.”
“K.”
As the coffee shop kid set about pouring his drink, Devon turned around and leaned against the counter, shoving his hands in his pockets partly to pose and partly to push his jeans down a bit. He scanned the room for anything remotely resembling cute.
No, some filthy hippies and a table of foreign exchange students from the U.
“Lame,” he said under his breath and turned around when the barista said “that’ll be $2.34” and handed him his coffee.
“Thanks.”
Devon walked over to the condiment station, ripped open a Domino’s sugar packet and poured it into the cup, smiling to himself as he looked at the logo on it.
“I already miss it a little,” he thought, referring to the large neon sign over the top of the sugar plant in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.
He pushed open the front doors and sat down underneath one of the mushroom shaped heating towers on the patio.
Lit the last cigarette in the pack, glancing over at Knucklehead’s tobacco as he did so.
“Should pick up some Dunhills for tonight,” he mused, and blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth.
This sparked the memory of Rosaline again, since it was she that started him smoking them in the first place.
“If you’re going to smoke, at least smoke a decent cigarette. Marlboro and Camel are so...prole,” she’d said.
He started to script the conversation he’d have with her, and was unable to get so much as a decision on how he should say hello.
“Fuck it.” He said aloud, and quickly dialed Rosaline’s number before he could think better of it again.
It rang, then rang again, and on the third ring he started considering whether he’d leave a voicemail or not.
*click* “Well, well. Hello there.”
“Uh, hello?”
“Hi Devon.”
“Hi. Rosaline?”
“Yes idiot, you did just fucking call me…”
Devon rolled his eyes and regained his composure.
“Hark, fair Juliet speaks.”
A laugh.
“Wrong play. And here I thought you were an English minor.”
“I missed a lot of class. I seem to remember that some of that was your doing.”
“You’re right, it’s always my fault.”
“Wow. That was quick,” Devon said, “from salutation to sarcasm in under 30 seconds, I think that might be a record for us.”
“Hmm. I doubt it. So what’s up? What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just having coffee.”
“Ah. Is little miss ‘Dashboard Confessional’ serving you again?” Rosaline asked, with a venomous pause on the “serving.”
“No, no. I’m at The Break.” Devon said, and smiled in wait.
A long pause.
“You’re at The Break?”
“Should I repeat myself? And here I thought you were a communications major.”
“You’re in Salt Lake?”
“Yes. Yes I am.”
This was more the reaction Devon was hoping for, and he felt himself moving to the offensive.
“What are you doing here?”
“Drinking.”
“But...what are you doing here?”
“I’m. Drinking.”
“Yes Baby, so you’ve said.”
Devon winced.
“But, why? What about Baltimore?”
“It’s still there. But I’m not, right now.”
“Oh.”
Another long pause.
“Seen Jenny yet?”
“No.” Devon lied.
“Oh.”
“She’s rock climbing with Kami.”
“Ah. How…active.”
“Wow, I never knew “active” was such an admonishment.”
“It is with her.” Rosaline quickly retorted.
“Right. Right.”
“So you hitting Monk’s tonight?”
“Um, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Jenny is such a fan of Monk’s.”
“Okay, enough. Jen has nothing to do with me being out here.”
“Yeah. You suck at this game kid.”
“Pshh, ’kid.’”
“What? You’re still 3 years younger than me.”
“I’m 26 woman, over the mid-twenty hump. Closing inexorably toward 30.”
“Awww.”
“What?”
“You’re so cute when you get all indignant.” Rosaline said softly.
He winced again.
“Oh, sorry. I know you hate being called ‘cute.’”
“Because I’m not.”
“No, of course you’re not baby.”
Devon had the feeling he was losing the initiative.
“So if you’re not going to Monk’s tonight then what are you doing?” Rosaline asked.
“I don’t know really. What are you doing?”
“Nice maneuver. I think I’m going to Shaggy’s.”
“To Ryan’s party?”
“Wow. Just back in Utah and already the man-about-town. Though I’d never expect any less from you. Yes, to Ryan’s stupid party. Yet another costume thing. I think it’s ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ this time”
“No Shakespearean reference left unturned.” Devon grinned.
“Ooo. Always such the quick wit too.” Rosaline said. “Lightning baby.”
Devon stumbled over his pet name again and managed “So, a Ryan party at Shaggy’s on a Saturday night. Jesus nothing ever changes out here.”
“No.” Rosaline said with a pause for drama, “No I guess it doesn’t.”
Another pause.
“So, will I see you there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Well you’re pretty non-committal for a guy who supposedly doesn’t know what he’s doing. I won’t bother you or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“No, no that’s not what I’m worried about.”
“So what are you worried about then?”
“Another semantic trick, God she’s good at those.” Devon thought.
“I’m not. But I like to keep my options open.”
Rosaline laughed.
“Don’t I know it. Well I’m going to run, Ashley is taking me over to Fredrick’s in Trolley Square for a suitably lascivious outfit for the evening.”
This sent a quick pang of jealousy across Devon’s chest.
“Oh. Right on.”
“Yeah, should be fun. So I’ll see you later then?”
“I dunno.”
“Good. See you then baby.”
“K.”
“Bye.”
“G’bye.”
Devon snapped his phone shut and slid it across the table, disgusted. He sat still for a long while, replaying the conversation in his head, editing out the pieces he didn’t like and saving the right few for sound bytes to be used later.
He stared at Knuckleheads for a while, and then got up to go buy a pack of Dunhill’s.
|
