“Two matcha lattés, please,” Gale requested, all while Sean was about to laugh his guts out as he was manning the counter.

“C’mon bro’, make your own order. Kaizer’s hands are full at the moment.”

“And mouth,” Luke blurted while he came to the counter from the multitudes of the crowd, holding a tray à la waiter. “That dude is spouting fire like crazy when you two were gone.” He put the tray at the tray counter, just beside him, before Sean came to get it and give it to the two random staff on shift today. “He’d like ‘Why the fuck is the coffee late on order 69?’ or even ‘When the fuck will Art come back?’ all while giving us some death-defying stares!” He shuddered in fear as he lay poker-faced to the unknown.

Sean, from the other side of the counter, reached for my shoulders and shook my soul out like crazy, wailing, “Please save us from this monstrosity!” Some people looked at us and chuckled lightly, covering their mouths while doing so. I saw Kaizer coming out from the coffee-making area and knocked Sean’s skull with his fist. Sean’s responded with a hasty yelp of pain.

“You should be manning the counter instead of gossiping about your boss’s life, Benizi.” Kaizer glared at Luke, the latter lowering his head in embarrassment. “You too, Oakwood. Save your gossip at the end of your shifts. As for you two,” Kaizer commanded, looking straight into my eye before glimpsing away to the crowd, “finish your cup in five minutes, then head back to the workspace.” He then again disappeared in the midst of the crowd, taking new orders by hand.

“Well, that’s new,” Gale commented. “I was expecting he’d rattle out.”

“Nah, that’s his default font,” I stated before shrugging at the thought. True, Kaizer is a tempest when he’s angered and distressed. It’s a miracle that he’d be in a muted state rather than a raging typhoon on a warm autumn afternoon. Sean served our coffee and drank it before the end of five minutes. After all, my shift’s about to begin.

The clock struck five forty-five in the afternoon, and I was drained like a worn-out battery.

Gale surprisingly has a reserved supply of stamina as I could sense he’s still fired up with the workloads. Considering that I am manhandling the waiter role along with Kaizer, who, I kid you not, actually showed professionalism as if he’d turned a new leaf overnight. Not that I miss his old self (heck, I’d wage my life not to revive that side of him), but it’s just a refreshing sight that he could actually be a nice person. But then again, a snake is still a snake even if it changes skin. So, what gives?

A customer requested her order on the far side of the shop. She was an old lady, with muted colors of burgundy and green covering her body, holding on a wooden cane, alone and looking towards me with her light grey eyes behind her small eyeglasses. I went to her direction, and she immediately asked me in French about things I could not decipher, even if I wanted to.

“Oh, jeune homme, je voudrais un chocolat chaud pour moi et mes quatre petits-enfants,” she said, “Je le voudrais froid; je ne veux pas brûler notre langue dans le processus. Pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît le préparer rapidement?”

I am in shambles, stuttering in front of her, trying to process what she just said. I tried comparing to the possible Spanish counterparts but to no avail. The old lady is about to be angry at made as she clenches her fist on her cane. As I was about to blurt no hablas français to her, Kaizer popped out from my behind, his hands in my shoulder.

“She’s asking for a cold chocolate latté, five of them to be exact. It’s a rush order.” He then went towards the old lady and started telling her French stuff. “Madame, je voudrais m'excuser au nom de mon collègue ici; il ne parle pas vraiment français, mais je suis sûr qu'il serait ravi de prendre votre commande.”

To my shyness, I replied, “Oui-oui?” I chuckled nervously and took my eyes away from her and onto Sean, asking him with my eyes to please take me away from this quicksand of shame. He just gave me a pair of thumbs up, to which I sighed in defeat. I looked at Kaizer, only to see him looking at me with deadpanned eyes. He seemed unamused by my trying to utter French shit.

“Five chocolate lattés, cold and rushed.” His voice was so deep I think I got into his bad side today. I quickly briskened away till I got to the counter before repeating to Sean what Kaizer told me.

“Default font, you said?” Sean raised an eyebrow at me as he recalled what I said about Kaizer.

“No; he’s in Courier New today, more or less. Formal but obviously trying to rip me apart in front of the crowd.” He shrugged at my thought before giving the paper the machine had printed to Luke, who was at the workspace. I leaned my back towards the counter and exhaled heavily. “Why do I not know a single thing about French, geezers? Like, why the fuck with that look? As if my comic relief ain’t fitting the scene there, is it?”

“At least you know how to say yes, oui?”

I glared at him, expressionless. “That doesn’t count, Luke.”

Another order came up, and I have to take it. Luckily, this time, the order’s coming from an English speaker, much to my luck. He’s a stout, middle-aged man in a graphic tee attire, his belly button exposed. He wanted a cup of americano, to which I happily obliged. I went back to Luke, then went back to other customers, and the cycle repeats. It was tiring, but fortunately, Kaizer was the one handing out the orders to the customers. Talk about division of labor.

“And it’s my French class coming up,” I muttered beneath my breath when the clock struck six, resting my back towards the counter. Kaizer came in closer to me, and I casually stepped back.

“Your shift’s over for today, Art.” He leans his body toward the counter as if he’s in his kitchen, facing the work area, while Sean is busy talking with Luke on the side. A moment of silence was evident in the humongous space in between, Kaizer slowly trying to fill in that large gap. “Say, what’s with the random French class in your schedule?”

I shrugged. “None of your business.” I went inside the work area and changed into my former clothes. As I hung the satchel on my right shoulder, Gale was focused on pouring the steamed, frothy milk into a cup of what seemed to be a typical café au lait. I smiled and glimpsed away just in the nick of time Gale gazed towards me. “I’m off,” I said, bidding my farewell. I could hear footsteps approaching me. I turned my back and saw Gale coming in my direction, removing his apron and pouring rubbing alcohol in his hands.

“I’d like to drive you to the school; it’s past afternoon,” Gale suggested. As though on cue, Kaizer went inside the work area, leaning towards the wall.

“That’ll be my call, Windsor,” Kaizer proposed, “not to mention, there’s still a few tasks under your wing that you need to do.”

“Like getting the pack of ice cubes we requested from a few blocks away?” Gale replied and placed his beret on top of the apron that he removed a while ago. “I could, um, take it while on the go. Wouldn’t take me an hour to stop by, would it?”

“It won’t, I guess. But mind you, it’s on the opposite side of where Saint-Louise is located, so I doubt it’ll cost us more than what’s needed. What do you think?”

“I’ll take half as my personal expense; how about that?”

Kaizer pondered for a solid 30 seconds before opening his mouth and shutting it when Luke entered the workspace, Sean peeping from the window.

“Ah, Kaizer,” Luke interjected, “the painter from last time. He’s here, and again with an enormous painting.” Kaizer held onto his head before sighing in defeat. He shrugged at the events that unfolded right in front of him.

“Talk about timing, Amadeo,” he muttered. He looked at Gale and smiled. “You can take Art to school for now. As for the cost, I’ll find a workaround. After all,”–he pointed to himself with such confidence, that of someone who thoroughly reviewed for his SATs–“the bookkeeper’s right in front of you.”

Gale said his gratitude, and I am here still processing what the fuck just happened. Two men just made a passive-aggressive debate, then, as though deus ex machina, Amadeo enters the scene! Talk about luck. I scratched my head in confusion, but I shrugged at the thought. Which reminds me, does Gale have French class today? I looked at Gale, trying to ask him about it with my eyes. He only responded with a “What?” before I replied with “Nothing.”

Gale and I, as usual, went outside the shop and walked towards the exits of the mall. Silences were exchanged as we ambled past the guards and onto the car that we had driven a while back at Marketing class. The car was a small red Chevy, shiny and sturdy, as though it was bought seconds ago. Still can’t believe this baby is half a decade old.

Gale opened the door for me as I entered the front seat. Gale meanwhile opened the other side and sat on the driver’s seat. Gale looked at me longingly, his eyes . . . his eyes are in my lips. I know deep down this kind of look is asking for a tender kiss, even though I have done this a lot of times with my past flings here and there. But I still can’t believe being the receiving one in this setup felt like butterflies in my stomach.

I could not wait any further as my instinct got the best of me; I grabbed Gale’s neck and aimed for his lips. Gale was surprised by how straightforward I was this time. There have been a lot of instances that I’ve met power bottoms in my life, trying to take the lead in a relationship, and I was fine with that. Heck, the thought of one being such is overpowering, as if only by the swing of my sword they open their holy caves and take it all in it.

I felt a hand on my neck, and it pushed me closer to Gale. He pressed his tongue on my lips, trying hard to enter my mouth, wanting to play sword with my own tongue. I gave him what he wanted; I also pressed my tongue, touching his. My free hand also went for the back of his neck and pushed him closer. His free hand, meanwhile, pushed me away, trying to catch my breath. He chuckled and beamed a bright one. He was speechless, but he quickly found the words he wanted to say.

“That was actually sexy of you to do, Arthur.” He tried to grab my neck again, but this time, I stopped him, my finger in his lips, shushing him out of his horniness.

“The main dish will be served later. But for now, my French class is in the corner. I presume that you’d be free from nine onwards, yes?” I asked. Gale was downhearted but smiled nonetheless.

“Yeah, nine’s my end shift.” I retracted my finger from his lips, which was about to lick it. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot we’d meet at the garden by then. I mean, we could, uh . . .  we could—” I stopped him from stuttering more in awkwardness.

“Say no more; we’ll have our night. We just have to set priorities first.” Gale beamed brightly as though a dog found out he’d get treats. I smiled. It looks like I got myself a puppy.