—from “Secrets, Stars, and Aero Bars,” posted January 2009 by FanFixx.net authors Magicath and Wrenegade
NINE
Cath had an hour or so to kill before she left for Omaha, and she didn’t feel like sitting in her room. It was the best kind of November day. Cold and crisp, but not quite freezing, not icy. Just cold enough that she could justifiably wear all her favorite clothes—cardigans and tights and leg warmers.
She thought about going to the Union to study but decided to walk around downtown Lincoln instead. Cath almost never left campus; there wasn’t much reason to. Leaving campus felt like crossing the border. What would she do if she lost her wallet or got lost? She’d have to call the embassy.…
Lincoln felt a lot more like a small town than Omaha. There were still movie theaters downtown and little shops. Cath walked by a Thai restaurant and the famous Chipotle. She stopped to walk through a gift shop and smell all the essential oils. There was a Starbucks across the street. She wondered if it was Levi’s Starbucks, and a minute later, she was crossing over.
Inside it was exactly like every other Starbucks Cath had ever been to. Maybe with a few more professorial types … And with Levi briskly moving behind the espresso machine, smiling at something somebody was saying in his headset.
Levi was wearing a black sweater over a white T-shirt. He looked like he’d just gotten a haircut—shorter in the back but still sticking up and flopping all over his face. He called out someone’s name and handed a drink to a guy who looked like a retired violin teacher. Levi stopped to talk to the guy. Because he was Levi, and this was a biological necessity.
“Are you in line?” a woman asked Cath.
“No, go ahead.” But then Cath decided she may as well get in line. It’s not like she’d come here to observe Levi in the wild. She didn’t know what she was doing here.
“Can I help you?” the guy at the register asked.
“No, you cannot,” Levi said, pushing the guy down the line. “I got this one.” He grinned at her. “Cather.”
“Hey,” Cath said, rolling her eyes. She hadn’t thought he’d seen her.
“Look at you. All sweatered up. What are those, leg sweaters?”
“They’re leg warmers.”
“You’re wearing at least four different kinds of sweater.”
“This is a scarf.”
“You look tarred and sweatered.”
“I get it,” she said.
“Did you just stop by to say hi?”
“No,” she said. He frowned. She rolled her eyes again. “I came for coffee.”
“What kind?”
“Just coffee. Grande coffee.”
“It’s cold out. Let me make you something good.”
Cath shrugged. Levi grabbed a cup and started pumping syrup into it. She waited on the other side of the espresso machine.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked. “You should come over. I think we’re gonna have a bonfire. Reagan’s coming.”
“I’m going home,” Cath said. “Omaha.”
“Yeah?” Levi smiled up at her. The machine made a hissing noise. “I bet your parents are happy about that.”
Cath shrugged again. Levi heaped whipped cream onto her drink. His hands were long—and thicker than the rest of him, a little knobby, with short, square nails.
“Have a great weekend,” he said, handing her the drink.
“I haven’t paid yet.”
Levi held up his hands. “Please. You insult me.”
“What is this?” She leaned over the cup and took a breath.
“My own concoction—Pumpkin Mocha Breve, light on the mocha. Don’t try to order it from anyone else; it’ll never turn out the same.”
“Thanks,” Cath said.
He grinned at her again. And she took a step backwards into a shelf full of mugs. “Bye,” she said.
Levi moved on to the next person, smiling as wide as ever.
*
Cath’s ride was a girl named Erin who’d put a sign up in the floor bathroom about splitting gas back to Omaha. All she talked about was her boyfriend who still lived in Omaha and who was probably cheating on her. Cath couldn’t wait to get home.
She felt a surge of optimism as she ran up the steps to her house. Somebody had raked the leaves—people who stayed up all night making mountains out of mashed potatoes rarely had the presence of mind for leaf raking.
Not that her dad would actually do that, the mashed potato thing. That wasn’t his style at all.
A fireman’s pole to the attic. Spur-of-the-moment road trips. Staying up for three nights because he discovered Battlestar Galactica on Netflix … That was the MO to his madness.
“Dad?”
The house was dark. He should be home by now—he said he would come home early.
“Cath!” He was in the kitchen. She ran forward to hug him. He hugged her back like he needed it. When she pulled away, he smiled at her. Sight-for-sore-eyes and everything.