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The coffee shop Vanessa wants to meet, Steam Noir, at is noisy, full of hipsters, and plays weirdly mellow synthetic music all day. But Candace guesses she can put up with it for one afternoon. Vanessa and Candace have been texting on and off the last few weeks, usually selfies with whatever weird stuff their brother or dad is getting up to in the background. Vanessa only uses the goth emojis, like the black heart and the devil face. What’s up with that?
When Vanessa asked Candace to meet her for coffee Wednesday after school, Candace figured it’d be worth the five bucks. Candace pulls the coffee shop door open only to find Vanessa nowhere in sight. Ugh. Candace mulls in line behind a dude in a bolo tie, taps her foot. Candace is fairly certain someone in the corner is crying into their tea. The Ducky Momo charm on Candace’s phone dangles between her fingers. She has a couple texts from Stacy, and one from Jeremy. While she’s tapping a reply to her boyfriend, one from Vanessa pops up.
Sorry! Got caught up w Dads uh, friend. Be there soon!
The familiar bubble of panic starts to rise in Candace’s throat, along with a trillion and two thoughts about Vanessa: Vanessa secretly hating her, Vanessa sabotaging her motorcycle to get out of hanging out, maybe Vanessa actually hates coffee, or she wants to embarrass Candace by sending her to a totally uncool coffee place— But Candace takes a deep breath and feels it all the way down to her stomach. She has no reason to think like that. Those thoughts aren’t helpful right now. Vanessa got caught up, it happens. It’s nothing to worry about. And the bubble pops. Ooh, Dr. Sentimientos is going to be so proud of her.
Candace fiddles with her Ducky Momo charm. Huh. She should probably figure out what to order. Hmm. The venti triple espresso chocolate java chip Frappuccino with chocolate sprinkles and two pumps of chocolate syrup sounds good. With almond milk, of course. She doesn’t want to upset her stomach with dairy. Yeah, good choice Candace.
Candace is about done ordering when the bell dings, almost an imperceptible sound over all the hipsters typing away at their sad poetry. But the bell does ding, and Candace turns around to see Vanessa in her usual all-black ensemble hurrying into the shop, a purse over one arm. A purple skull purse, but a purse. Candace pays for her drink and Vanessa smiles at her.
“Sorry again, I got caught up talking to my dad’s—friend? Nemesis? I don’t know what their deal is, but, sorry,” Vanessa says, grimacing.
Candace waves it off. “One of those on-again off-again relationships? Believe me, I’ve been there,” Candace says.
Vanessa hesitates.“Yeah, something like that,” She says. She places her complicated order and both girls go wait at one of the spare two-person tables.
Vanessa unbuttons a couple buttons on her jacket. The late summer heat has caught up with her; she pulls her hair back into a ponytail and Candace can see a bead of sweat roll down Vanessa’s neck.
“Boy, is it hot in here,” Candace says, tugging at the front of her shirt.
“I know!” Vanessa says, nodding, “It’s like, hipsters don’t use air conditioning or something.”
“They’re too cool for air conditioning,” Candace says, laughing, “Get it, cool?” Vanessa snorts, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Her lipstick is purple.
The barista calls out both their names, and they go over to pick up their drinks. Their hands brush, Vanessa’s surprisingly cold rings against the back of Candace’s hand. It’s weird that Candace’s heart is racing and she hasn’t even had her coffee yet. Vanessa smiles at her. Candace barely remembers to smile back.
They wind up sitting at their little table until closing. They talk about Candace’s brothers, about Vanessa’s dad, her mom, about their grades, prom, and how the Danville High cheerleaders can eat shit. Vanessa makes another hipster joke and Candace’s coffee comes out her nose.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Vanessa says, running to grab some napkins.
“O-M-G, no, it’s fine,” Candace says, her face flushing as she takes the napkins from Vanessa. Her nose burns.
“O-M-G? Since when do you talk in text?” Vanessa asks, raising an eyebrow.
Candace swallows, dabbing her nose with the napkin. “I probably picked it up from you,” she says, taking a gentle sip of her now cold coffee. Her heart is racing.
“Oh, huh,” Vanessa says, eyeing Candace. She breaks into a smile, “That’s cute.”
If it gets any hotter in here, Candace could rewarm her coffee.
“Thanks,” Candace says.
“No problem,” Vanessa says. The two girls decide to leave when the cashier drags the mop and bucket out from the back closet. Candace and Vanessa look at each other and leave a hefty tip.
“Hey,” Vanessa says, bumping elbows with Candace, “It got late, do you want a ride on my bike?”
“Your what?”
“My bike. My motorcycle. Don’t worry, I have an extra helmet.”
“Uh, sure.”
“Cool.”
Vanessa grabs Candace’s wrist and pulls her over to the shiny black bike. Candace smiles in the darkness and pulls on the spare spiked helmet.
_________
“She’s just so cool, Jeremy!” Candace says, flinging herself backward onto her bed, “I mean, she has her own motorcycle, for one, and she’s so smooth! She’s talked her way out of detention before. And her lipstick is purple! Purple!”
“Woah, Candace,” Jeremy’s voice comes through the phone with a laugh, “Sounds like you’ve got quite a crush.”
Candace sits up. Her heart, previously hammering in her ribs, goes suspiciously silent.
“Woah. Woah woah woah woah woah. Jeremy, I do not have a crush on Vanessa!” Candace says, her free hand grabbing at the hem of her shirt, “And she’s pretty, sure, but I can say that about other girls!”
“Candace —”
“Okay, maybe I liked it when she unbuttoned her jacket, but that doesn’t mean I’m attracted to her!”
“Candace –”
“And her lipstick, that’s just a normal cool girl thing, like, every girl admires a cool girl’s lipstick! It’s not like I would want to… uh…” The thought of Vanessa, purple lips puckered, leaning across the little table to press her lips to Candace’s— of Vanessa pulling her in close so Candace can smell her flowery shampoo— comes to Candace so vividly her mouth goes dry.
“Candace?”
Oh. Candace hadn’t noticed she stopped talking.
“Jeremy, uh, I think I like girls.”
Jeremy’s laughter comes through again, crackling and warm against Candace’s ear.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But, but, but you’re still my b-word! I’m not gonna leave you for Vanessa,” Candace says, pulling at the ends of her hair.
“It’s okay! You’re still my g-word.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Jeremy says. He thinks for a minute, and his voice softens, “And hey, Candace. If you ever have a crush on a girl, you can tell me. I won’t be mad.”
It’s Candace’s turn to laugh, but it comes out a little wheezy.
“Oh, Jeremy,” She says, “You’re the love of my life! I wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy says, “I know. Just, you know, I wanted to tell you. Just in case.”
“Well, okay. I’ll let you know,” Candace promises.
From downstairs, Mom shouts up that dinner’s almost ready. Candace says goodbye to Jeremy and flips her phone shut. She presses it to her chest, the plastic still warm from where it was smushed against her face. Candace glances in the mirror on her way out, tucks her hair behind her ears. Okay, so she likes girls. That’s okay. Lots of people are like that. And she can talk to Jeremy about it, you know, if it ever comes up. But Candace doubts it. She has Jeremy. Who else could she want? Candace tosses her phone on her bed and goes down to dinner.