Cold Kiss

before I got the job. It still sports the building’s original tin ceiling, painted silver now, and the exposed brick wall along the east side of the room is a faded red, worn with time and touch. None of the tables and chairs match, but Geoff painted them all the same chocolate brown and trimmed them with either bright green or purple. Framed art for sale hangs everywhere, and there’s a stand with indie CDs and local authors’ books. Everything Trevor lacks when it comes to dealing with actual human beings apparently went into a green thumb, so he keeps spider plants and ferns all over, and the café always feels comfortable, warm, alive.
    I’m enjoying the calm when the bell over the door jingles and Gabriel walks in.
    I manage to trip over my boot and drop my squirt bottle of window cleaner at the same time in my surprise. Geoff’s putting a fresh tray of cookies in the bakery case and raises an eyebrow when Gabriel bends down to pick up the bottle for me. Great. Like I need another member of the judging panel.
    Geoff loved Danny. Everyone loved Danny really, but Geoff was always happy when Danny came in, and sometimes let him hang around in the back and sketch while he was baking if my shift wasn’t over. He and Trevor actually came to the funeral, closed the café and everything, and Geoff hung a couple of Danny’s drawings behind the counter where everyone who’s getting coffee can see them.
    “I can’t talk now, either,” I hiss at Gabriel, and grab the bottle away from him.
    “Can’t I get a coffee? Jeez.” Gabriel ambles over to the counter, and I sigh as I follow him.
    “You didn’t come here just for coffee,” I say as soon as Geoff disappears into the kitchen again.
    “No, but I still want some.” He shrugs, his shoulders all angles in his faded blue button-down and green hoodie, a pale sheaf of his hair falling across his forehead. I don’t know why I keep noticing things like that, because they don’t matter. Not to me. They don’t .
    “Fine. What can I get you?”
    “Regular, two sugars,” he says after scanning the menu on the chalkboard for way too long.
    I soften a little at that. It’s the cheapest coffee we offer, and after yesterday I know he probably doesn’t have a lot of extra money for lattes or anything else. I slap a black-and-white cookie on a plate and don’t charge him for it, because I know Geoff won’t care.
    Anyway, I owe Gabriel. It’s a relief not to have to lie to him, at least, even if I’m pretty sure what he wants to talk about isn’t something I’m going to want to hear.
    “I just want to help,” he says softly as he takes the mug and the plate, and I look up to find those strange gray eyes trained on me again.
    “I know.” I swipe at the counter with my rag absently. “I’m sorry.”
    “What time do you get off?”
    “Not till nine. Sometimes a little earlier if it’s slow.” I wave a hand at Rich from the movie theater when he walks in, and Gabriel takes a step backward.
    “I’ll come back around eight then, okay? Maybe walk you home?”
    It’s the only way we can talk, since I’m not about to invite him over, and there are too many curious eyes on us at school.
    I just won’t think about the fact that it might be kind of nice, too.
    “Got a date, huh?” Trevor says at eight, when Gabriel has passed by the front window for the fifth time. He’s hunched into a warmer jacket, and he’s got even cheaper coffee from the diner over on North in one hand.
    “Hardly,” I snap, and push chairs into place with an angry screech on the bare wood floor. The café is already empty, and Geoff always leaves at dinnertime.
    “Hey, I’m not judging.”
    My head snaps up at that, and I find him slouched against the bakery case, his face as thoughtful as it ever gets. I open my mouth to answer him, but I can’t think of anything to say. Of all the people I thought might be cool about me possibly talking to another boy, Trevor was last on my list.
    “Look, you had it rough,” Trevor says, and his voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. “It’s hard when somebody you love dies. I know, believe me. But life goes on. I mean, that’s what they say, right? And it’s true.”
    I’m so stunned, my mouth is hanging open. Trevor’s not even looking at me anymore, sifting through the receipts behind the counter instead, and after a minute, he keeps talking.
    “When you love someone, the last thing you want is for them to be unhappy. And