Once we successfully drive to town without crashing in a ball of fire, Asa directs us to the cafe where I was supposedly going to eat a breakfast sandwich that would blow my pants off.
The thing was when we do finally get there, someone's posted a sign on the door that says, "Closed Due to Bad Weather" in bold letters, and the lights are off inside, much to my eccentric little neighbor's dismay.
"Oh, no!" Asa groans, his face, and hands pressed to the window, "No! I can't believe this!"
"Dude, it's okay," I tell him and I stand there beside him with my hands in my pockets, "We can go somewhere else for breakfast. The sandwiches probably weren't even that good."
"This was our favourite place," Asa says against the glass, "There's the table where we used to sit." He pokes one finger against the window and I go over and press my face to the glass, looking in at the two pink chairs and table in the obscurity of the cafe. But the longer I stare, the more I start to wonder if Asa thought I was some kind of stand-in for his old boyfriend.
The thought should have made me angry, but it didn't--okay, maybe a little. Mostly though, I just felt bad that Asa had lost someone so important in his life. Like my mom, who my dad had left back in New York to raise my little brother. Even now, I still thought of her whenever I saw sunflowers or smelled the scent of vanilla, just like her favorite perfume.
"I'm sorry," Asa turns to me after a moment, raindrops stuck to his blonde eyelashes, "I barely know you and I'm already unloading my problems onto you. That's not fair."
I shrug a little. "It's not a big deal," I reply, "That's what friends do, right? They listen?"
Asa stares at me, his eyes glistening when my words settle in.
"Come on," I tell him, and I turn to walk away, expecting him to follow. "Where's the next best place to eat in this dump of a town? I'm starving to death."
"Oh, I know!" Asa gasps and he quickly catches up to me, "Do you like fried pickles?"
"For breakfast? Are you crazy?"
My brother, James Dean, had been right. Despite the fact that I hadn't been planning on making friends in this town, Asa and his weird ways had somehow managed to convince me otherwise. It was strange how things worked out like that.
We end up drinking hot chocolate and eating fried pickles for breakfast in an old general store-converted soda parlor a short distance away. Once we're there, I buy Asa a sweater with the rest of my money since his shirt was dripping wet and he was shivering.
"H-how do you get your h-hair like that?" He asks me between sips of his chocolate, his teeth chattering, "It looks like it got bigger and puffier overnight."
"Huh?" I reach up and touch my currently damp hair, "I used gel and stuff to twist it yesterday, but since it's raining today and my dad woke me up at the asscrack of dawn, I didn't put anything in it except rainwater. Why? You got a problem with it?"
"No!" Asa says quickly, his hot chocolate mug cupped between two hands, "I really like it. Especially the straight parts around the edges."
I fork a pickle into my mouth and observe him from across the table, trying to see if he was being sincere or not. I had dealt with my fair share of discrimination, but Asa didn't seem like the type to care either way, and he seemed genuinely honest when I spoke to him.
"I was actually wondering if you could help me cut my hair," He admits after a moment.
"You want me to cut your hair?" I question, and then I laugh, "I'm not a barber."
"Ah! What I mean is, I want you to go with me so I can cut my hair at a real salon!" He blurts, his cheeks bright pink, "I want my hair to look like yours. With the straight lines and stuff. I've never been to a real barber, my mom usually just cuts my hair at the dinner table with some craft scissors. That's why it has a bunch of long pieces like this." He reaches up and pulls a feathery-like piece away from where it hides his ear.
"Nah," I push my plate of pickles away and lean back, "If we get your haircut, we need to do it the right way. But that's if you're willing to go all the way. Do you know what cornrows are?"
Asa blinks in confusion. It was all I needed to know.
"Let's go," I tell him, and I throw my napkin down and stand up. "We're going to make a man out of you today."
Comments (2)
See all