Yes, Today

Yes, Today By Katey Hawthorne On the one hand, I love that the comic shop owner knows who I am and what I want. On the other hand, sometimes I sit outside in my car taking deep breaths for like five minutes before I go in there, because I know he’s gonna talk to me and ask me if I want to do a pull list. I don’t, because what if I can’t leave my house for a few months because of anxiety? And what if I get too embarrassed to go back and explain myself and then he keeps pulling Elf Planet—which I’m pretty sure he only orders because I read it—and it builds up and finally he goes bankrupt because I lost my s**t? Not likely, I know. But this is what it’s like in my brain. Anxiety is a weirdly self-obsessed disorder, and I would like to return it for a refund, thanks. That Sunday, comic shop disaster was averted because I got my Elf Planet and left while he was talking to some Magic: The Gathering players, which was lucky. That went so smoothly that I thought, hell, I’ll go to the coffee shop next door and have an Americano while I read it. The barista interaction went smoothly, too—no jokes I didn’t get, and when he said, “Enjoy your coffee!” I did not say, “You, too!” like an i***t. Nailed it. I was basking in the glow of this successful social interaction, on my way to a seat by the picture windows, when I stopped so suddenly, I nearly dropped my coffee. Hanging off a nearby chair was a heart-shaped, black mini backpack, fraying at the seams. It said, in beautiful, bright white script, f**k Off. My throat tightened. I held my breath. The person sitting in the chair had short, dark hair, and the person I remembered having that backpack had long blond hair, but the body shape was about right. Slightly chubby, devastating curves, small shoulders. Could it really be her? Like she’d heard my thought—oh, s**t, I didn’t say that out loud, did I?—the person turned. The lipstick was silver, the face was grinning. It was her. It was Maeve from Witches, Mystics, and Heretics: Perspectives of the Middle Ages class back at Terrapin U. I hadn’t seen her since graduation, which made sense since I never went back to campus, even though I lived next door to it practically. Every time she’d walk into class with that dope-ass backpack bouncing above her really cute butt, I’d sigh and wish I had the guts to speak to her. Ask her where she got it and if she wanted to have a cup of coffee or tea and give me all her slightly gothy wonderful fashion secrets. My main problem with being Sapphic: I’m never sure if I want to kiss a girl or just to be her. Sometimes it’s both, which makes it really rough. Maeve c****d her head, so a strand of jet hair fell into her eye. She blew upward and sent it flying. Ugh, that was so cute. Then she smiled and waved. Oh. Oh, God, did she recognize me? Or was she just acknowledging me because I was standing there staring like a total goober? I lifted a hand to wave back. It was the hand holding my Americano. I gave a coffee salute instead because at that point I pretty much had to. Still smiling, Maeve turned around to talk to the person sitting with her. I hovered for a moment, considering going back to my car. But that would be weird, because I had definitely been heading away from the door when she saw me, so it was clear I meant to sit down and drink my coffee. So—yeah, okay. Head down, I bee-lined it for a table by the window, opened this month’s Elf Planet. Even though I wasn’t really reading it. It took a lot of deep breaths and logicking myself back into reason, but eventually, I glanced Maeve’s way again. The person she was sitting with stood and held out a hand, which she took. I looked back down quickly, not wanting to be caught spying. I actually started reading page one, when I was interrupted by her voice: “Hey! Anjali, right?” I blinked and looked up, startled. “Y-yes. Anjali Johnson. I—you remember me?” I was too surprised to mind how silly I sounded. Maeve laughed. “I always noticed you in class. Did you graduate or transfer or something? I haven’t seen you around campus?” I nodded. “Last May, yeah.” “Me too, but I started grad school.” She rolled her eyes. They were a gorgeous hazel, light brown melting into green just around the pupils. “Mistakes were made.” I laughed, then, but it came out like a surprised bark. Ugh. “What are you studying?” “Medieval and Renaissance studies. I know, super useful.” She settled one hand on my table, then leaned her hip against it. It created the prettiest s-curve in her body, like a classical sculpture. “What about you? Where did you escape to?” This was wild. I was trying not to overthink the situation, but I couldn’t help it. She’d never spoken to me in class. I mean, I always darted my gaze away from her as quickly as possible if it seemed like she was about to look my way, so that might’ve been part of it. People tended to assume I was squirrelly instead of just, you know. Awkward as hell. Don’t think. Just talk. I shook myself a little. “Oh, I’m working from home now. Medical transcription.” “Ooh, now that’s a good idea. Did you have to take a course or something?” I nodded, wondering. It was the most boring career choice imaginable. She couldn’t really be interested. “I get to do my own hours and stuff.”