Friday, October 7
(Kate)
I found a five-dollar bill in the pocket of my jeans during European History this afternoon. I took that as a sign that I must treat myself to a cup of coffee for the ride to Minneapolis to see Gabriel. His school called me yesterday afternoon after his tutor didn't show and asked if I could fill in again and meet with him today after school. If my week were a rainbow, he'd be the pot of gold at the end of it. Gabriel is cooperative, and inquisitive, and happy, and sweet, and stubborn all at once. I love that because he's real. He says what's on his mind, and he doesn't hold back. Life would be so much easier if everyone were that way.
As luck would have it, the parking spot at the curb in front of Grounds is open.
The bell thunders and I ignore it. I'm on a mission.
I expect to see Romero behind the counter, but it's Keller instead.
He's smiling that crooked smile of his. That means he's in the mood to flirt. I'm beginning to figure him out. "Heard I was here and couldn't stay away?"
I roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm not stalking you." I pull the crumpled bill from my pocket and let it drop on the counter. "Found a fiver in my pocket today. I took it as a sign from the coffee gods."
He picks up the bill and looks at it front and back. It's soft and faded—clearly it's been through the wash once or twice. "This thing's pitiful, Katie." He looks at it again and hands it back to me. "I can't accept it."
"What?" I look at the bill in his hand. What did he just say? I have my heart set on this coffee. I need this coffee. "Are you denying me, Keller Banks?"
He pours a large coffee, sets it on the counter, and slides it across to me. "Not you, just your money. This one's on me." He pulls two ones out of his pocket puts them in the cash register, takes the change, and puts it in the tip jar.
I raise my eyebrows and nod toward the tip jar. "Really?"
He smiles. "What? I'm covering for Rome for like twenty minutes. These are his tips this afternoon, not mine. I'd feel guilty if I didn't tip the guy. I mean I have a reputation for being a cheapskate, but I wouldn't stoop that low."
I'm sure he's telling me the truth, so I raise my cup. "Thanks, dude. I owe you one."
"Don't worry about it. Though, I don't know how you drink all that at three thirty in the afternoon. I'd be up all night. Or are you going out? Planning on not sleeping?"
"Caffeine and I are like this." I cross my fingers. "I don't sleep much anyway, but now that you mention it, I do have a big night ahead of me." Lately my sleep cycles have alternated between weeks of insomnia and weeks of coma-like slumber. This week, insomnia is my new best friend. My body doesn't like me much. I'm trying to make peace with it, but it's been hard. In the past, I only slept four or five hours a night, and I was fine the next day. Now, if I'm lucky enough to get three or four hours, I wake up feeling like I need ten or fifteen more. But that's life, I guess.
He looks skeptical. "A big night, huh? I never see you out."
"I'm not much of a partier. Between work and school I don't have a lot of free time. I guess I study at night instead of going out." I widen my eyes and the sarcasm sets in. "Crazy, huh?"
He laughs. "I get it. I don't go out much myself. So, what are you doing tonight?"
"I'm tutoring an adorable ten-year-old at four o'clock in Minneapolis." I glance at my watch. "Which I'll be late for if I don't get going."
He smiles. "Lucky kid."
I meet his smile. "No, lucky me. You don't know this kid."
He nods. "And then what? What are you doing after?"
I moan. "I have to write a paper for Literature on A Tale of Two Cities that's due Monday. I'm only on chapter four now. I'm not really feelin' it. It's gonna be a long night."
He narrows his eyes. "You've never read A Tale of Two Cities?"
And I suddenly feel self-conscious. "No."
He pushes away from the counter and runs his hands through his messy hair. "I don't believe it. What high school graduate hasn't read A Tale of Two Cities?"
I raise my hand sheepishly. "Uh, this one."
He rests his elbows on the counter and lowers his voice. "It's one of my favorites. I've read it at least ten times. I can help you tomorrow if you want."
Wow, that's surprising. Not that I didn't think the guy was smart. I mean, there's this stillness about him. He's a quiet observer. Those kind of people are always intelligent. But I didn't realize the guy was into classic literature. God, I'm doomed. Keller is already sexy as hell, but this pushes him over the top. I love smart guys. "I thought you went to Chicago on the weekends?"
"I can only swing it twice a month. I'm here this weekend."
"Okay, sure," I say, my mind racing. "Can we meet here tomorrow at eight o'clock? Or is that too early?" I bite my lip, hoping I'm not pushing my luck.
His head drops. "Ah, Katie, you're killing me."
Now I feel like a moron. What college student gets up that early on a Saturday unless it's to work, or they're suffering from insomnia like me? He obviously isn't working if he's offered to help me. "Sorry, dude, you know what, never mind. It's super nice of you, but—"
He interrupts me. "You didn't let me finish." He's still crouched over the counter resting on his elbows, and when he lifts his chin slightly, he's looking at me through these incredibly long, black eyelashes. Seeing those gorgeous blue eyes, my heart almost stops. "For you, I'll do it. Don't be late, though." He shakes his finger at me in warning. "I know you." He glances at the clock on the wall. It's 3:45 pm. "Speaking of which, I've heard you drive like a bat out of hell, but you'd better get going."
I lost track of time...again. If I don't get going right now, I'll be late. "Shit." I make a beeline for the door and call back over my shoulder, "See you tomorrow...and the coffee will be on me." I raise my cup. "Thanks again, dude. Have a fantastic evening."
The crooked smile is back, and he salutes. "You're welcome. You have a fantastic evening yourself, Katie."