For The Next Thirty Seconds ✓

a familiar place and an unfamiliar face

j a c k

I haven't been home much in the past four months. It's hard to go there, when all I see are pitying looks and sad eyes. I shouldn't have expected anything less from my family, though; I am dying.

Six months ago, my life changed. Two months after that, it ended.

So, I left.

Mostly, I float. I float through the streets of New York City, the place where I was born, raised, and will die. It's a full circle, that way. I don't like open circles, so at least my life will have a proper ending.

It's cold, though, and I don't have a jacket with me. I don't have anything really, except for my phone, some cash, and my metro card. That's really all I need to get through the city.

I just hadn't expected it to be so cold.

Stupid, I know, since it's the middle of January, but I guess I hadn't thought about it much. Really, though, it's colder than it was yesterday; the weather forecasts are predicting it to be 15 below with a -20 degree wind chill. I'm not sure I believe that, but I do believe that if I spend another minute outside I'll freeze to death.

I could go home. I probably should go home. I know my mom and my sisters must be worried about me. But, like I said before, seeing them isn't good for any of us.

Instead, I decide to find one of the many locations I've been floating to: Sue's Coffee.

I know it's only about a ten minute walk from the bench I'm sitting on, so I stand up and join the crowd.

Normally, I don't like being in big groups of people, especially not fellow New Yorkers, as we have a reputation for being callous assholes. But, I manage to find a sweet spot in between a few people, so that they're human shields against the wind, and it's the warmest I've been all night, so, for once, I don't mind the crowds.

I feel normal, for the first time in a long time, walking along with these people. To them, I'm the same as anyone else, if they even notice me at all. Never has it felt so good to be invisible.

I'm carried through the streets without even thinking about it, and, before I know it, I can see Sue's in the distance. I speed up, pushing through the crowd, and I finally reach the door to the small coffee shop. I can anticipate the warmth without even feeling it, and I quickly push the door open so that I can feel it.

It's as comforting as every other time I've been here.

There are only two people in the café, Patty, the devil incarnate, typing frantically on her keyboard, and a girl, who looks about my age, sitting on the couch, rustling around in her backpack. She's not just sitting on any couch, though; she's sitting on my couch, in my spot.

Okay, maybe it's not just mine. But, that's where I always sit, nestled between the couch cushions and the wall. That little corner makes me feel safe.

I keep my eyes trained on the stranger as I walk up to the register, waiting for one of the girls to notice me. I'm quite famous at Sue's, on account of the fact that I've come at least twice a week every week for fourteen weeks. I think I'm their best customer. Although, I haven't paid them since week three.

I stand in front of the counter for a while, curiously studying the girl, who now has a book I've never heard of sitting on her lap. Her light blonde hair is being twisted around her finger nervously, and I doubt she even realizes she's doing it. Her fair skin has a slight blush from the heat and is peppered with freckles. All her features seem quite delicate, and I wonder what drew her to my corner. Does she see it as the safe place that I do? I think, if that's the reason, then I can forgive her for stealing my seat.

Eventually, one of the girls does notice me, Leah, and I snap my head to the front, tearing my eyes away from the stranger and, instead, mentally preparing myself for all the compliments and sweetness that are about to be thrown my way.

"Jack!" she greets me, a big smile on her face as she reaches across the counter to tousle my hair. It's a bit hard for her, as I'm freakishly tall and she's probably average height, so I lean down to make it easier for her and give her a slight eye roll, to which she returns a laugh.

"How long's it been?" she asks, squinting at me, as if narrowing her eyes and staring long enough will suddenly jog her memory and remind her of when I was last here.

"Two days, I think," I respond for her with a slight chuckle.

Her gaze softens, and I immediately shift awkwardly from foot to foot, trying to avoid her eyes, staring at a spot just above her head instead.

"How're you holding up, Jack?"

I shrug lightly. "You know, some days are better than others." I chance a quick glance at her face and am relieved to see that her pity has disappeared, replaced by the same look she had before. It's more strained, though, and I can tell she's fighting to keep a straight face.

"But, you know, I'm not dead, yet," I make a lame excuse at a joke, and she half-heartedly laughs with me.

"Just the regular, then, Jack?" Leah asks, glancing down at the register.

"Do you think I can add a mocha cake?" I ask, reaching for my wallet as she starts to put in my order. "I'm famished, and, you know, they're just so good."

"Sure," she says with a smile, then catches sight of my hand. "Hey, put that away! We'll just add it to your tab."

I sigh. Yes, I have a tab at a coffee shop. I come so much that they set one up for me. Or, they said they did. I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist... we all know I won't ever get around to paying it, and they're not going to hunt down any of my relatives to give them the money I owe them for coffee, so there's not really any point in keeping one. They think it makes me feel better, though.

It doesn't.

"Okay, you're all set," Leah's voice drags me back to the present. "We'll bring it out ASAP."

I grin. "Thanks."

Leah pats my arm, and I head off towards my corner, where I'm reminded there's a stranger there. So, I do the only reasonable thing I can think of;

I sit down across from her, and I speak.

"Can I ask you a question?"