Author's Note: This story will contain depictions of tobacco use, drinking, and swear words. At this time there are no trigger warnings, but please advise me if you believe there should be any. Thank you for reading!
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With the sun just above the horizon, Collin pedaled along downtown Santa Cruz, one earbud playing No Doubt, and small white clouds marking each exhale. But the cold didn't bother him. It helped wake him up.
Making his way down Pacific Avenue, he smiled and waved at the girl with a lip ring who worked at the bagel shop, the balding man who ran the flower stand, and the guy with purple dreads who was a barista at the cafe. No one was out at this time, except those who worked the early shift, and even if he didn't know their names, Collin knew everyone's face.
As he coasted toward the smoothie shop where he worked, he took his new iPod out of his pocket–still impressed with how small it was compared to his old Discman–and turned the music off. Tom was waiting for him. He was wearing his usual bright red beanie, gray hoodie, and navy blue bomber jacket and was leaning against the plate-glass windows smoking a cigarette.
"Second time this week you're late, douchebag," Tom took one last drag and then flicked the butt towards Collin.
Collin looked up at the looming clock tower across the street. It read 6:29. "I'm not late, you're early," Collin said as he walked his bike over to the large black iron circles bolted into the sidewalk and secured his ride, careful to loop a chain through both the front and back tires. "And, dude, you really shouldn't be calling your boss a douchebag."
"You're not my boss. Janet's the boss. You're just a shift manager. You make what? A dollar more an hour than I do?"
Collin took out his keys and jangled them. "I make a buck-fifty more an hour than you do, and more importantly, I have the keys and know the code to the alarm system."
"Well, shit man, what are you waiting for? It's cold as a witch's teat out here." Tom rubbed his hands together.
"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist," Collin teased as he let them in and then locked the door behind them. The alarm chirped its countdown and only stopped when he walked up to the pad and clicked on the four magic numbers. Tom flipped on the lights and both guys changed into company t-shirts and aprons and got to work setting up the machines, stocking the display cases, and counting the registers.
There was a checklist for opening the store, but neither Tom nor Collin needed to look at it. Collin had been working here for three years, since his freshman year at the University, and while Tom had only joined the crew last year, he was a focused and reliable worker.
"It's going to be hot by midmorning," Collin broke the silence as he finished calibrating the juice dispenser.
"Oh yeah, I saw that in the paper."
"Probably going to be pretty busy."
"Yup, probably," Tom answered absent-mindedly as he emptied a bucket of ice over the carrot display.
"Everything is looking good. We're ready to open with five minutes to spare. Want a coffee? I'll run across the street," Collin offered.
"Sure man, that'd be great. The usual." Tom reached for his wallet in his back pocket.
"No," Collin held up his hands. "I'm the douchebag boss. It's on me."
"You know you don't have to, man."
"No sweat, dude," Collin said as he unlocked the door.
Within the last half hour, the street had woken up. College kids with 8 AM lectures, high schoolers with before-school activities, and professionals who commuted over the mountain to Silicon Valley all needed their caffeine fixes and there was already a line forming to order drinks at the cafe. But the guys here were quick, so Collin didn't worry. In a few minutes, he had reached the counter.
A face he didn't recognize greeted him: hazel eyes, auburn hair, and a smile that could start the next Trojan War. "Good morning. What can I get you?" she asked.
Collin read her name tag and matched her smile. "Good morning, Heather. Just two black coffees, please. Drip. Gotta get back across the street." He gestured to the logo on his apron.
"Yes, of course, Colon, coming right up." She turned and grabbed two paper cups.
"It's Collin," he corrected her, but she either couldn't hear him over the espresso machine or was choosing to ignore him.
Why did so many people mispronounce his name?
More importantly, why had he chosen a name that was so easy to mispronounce? And so embarrassingly so, too. One benefit of being trans was choosing your own name, wasn't it? Was it too late to change it again? But his name had special meaning, so he'd just need to bear the occasional colonization.
After a moment, Heather handed him the two full cups. "Have a great day!"
"You too," Collin smiled and walked back across the street.
Marvin, a regular customer, was waiting outside the doors.
"Good morning, Marvin. Come on in." Collin said as he ushered him in. "The usual this morning? Looks like Tom already started on your wheatgrass when he saw you outside."
The bearded man nodded approvingly. "Yes, thank you." He handed Collin his credit card to pay, and when Tom put his two ounces of wheatgrass and medium-sized fresh-squeezed orange juice on the counter, he left.
With the first customer gone, Collin handed Tom his coffee.
"Thanks man."
"Yeah, of course. Hey, did you know that there is a new girl working at the cafe?"
Tom shook his head as he took a sip.
"She misread my name tag as colon," Collin groaned.
"Well, you can be an asshole sometimes," Tom said with a laugh.
Collin rolled his eyes at the old joke.
The door opened, and Collin looked up to see his girlfriend, Avery. Her blond hair was tied up in a messy bun and she was wearing her usual straight-legged jeans, black converse shoes, and a black hoodie. Her friend Gina, who was short with spiky hair, walked in behind her. "Hey Tom, hey Collin," she greeted.
"Hey babe," Collin couldn't help but smile. Ever since sophomore year of high school, she'd been by his side. Before he came out as trans, before he'd transitioned, she was the one constant. Both of their leases were up at the end of the semester and they were looking for apartments, finally ready to make the leap. So far, they hadn't found a place that was in their budget and met their other requirements: walking distance to downtown, laundry on-site, not on the ground floor. Maybe she'd found a lead. "What's up?"
"I need to cancel on you this afternoon, and I wanted to tell you in-person." She jutted out her bottom lip apologetically.
"Oh." He tried to mask his disappointment. "Yeah, that's cool."
"Gina and I are, um, working on a project." She glanced over at her friend, who didn't react.
Collin leaned forward on the counter. "Maybe we can grab a bite together tonight?"
"Yeah, maybe." She smiled. "Thanks for being so understanding." Then she and Gina walked back out of the store. Collin could see them talking on the corner, trying to decide which direction to walk.
Tom walked up and placed his hand on Collin's shoulder. "Dude, I'm sorry."
Collin turned. "Sorry for what?"
Tom just shook his head and walked into the back room, holding his coffee.
Maybe Avery would like a fresh juice to start her day. Collin knew that she always loved a good orange juice. He put some oranges into the hopper and turned the large machine on, watching with fascination as each fruit dropped into place and was soundly crushed by two metal mashers. Pulp and juice rained down into the waiting pitcher; the obliterated peel fell into the waste bag.
It only took half a minute for the juice to be squeezed and then poured into a cup. "I'll be right back," Collin called as he rushed out the door.
He didn't see where Avery or Gina had gone, so he walked the few steps to the corner and looked down the next street. The only people he saw were a couple kissing against the back of the building.
He was about to walk in the other direction when it hit him.
Physically hit him. All breath left his body.
He dropped the juice. "Shit!" he exclaimed as the cold liquid soaked into his shoe.
Avery and Gina were kissing against the back of the building. And not even his exclamation had encouraged them to stop.