Page 2 of Doink (Rainbow Dorset University)

DANA RICHARDSON

I ’m never late, but I always feel late. No matter what I do, I’m always rushing. I can get ready two days early, and I’ll still end up running to my destination. Especially when it’s work or school, or an appointment.

I will forever feel late, even when I’m ten minutes early as I am today when I reach the Queer Palace Café. It’s almost eleven, and regardless of the day, lunchtime is always busy.

“Hey,” Celeste greets as I step behind the counter and grab my apron off the hook. “You still have ten minutes.”

“The line is almost to the door,” I point out.

“Something that everyone expects when they walk in on a weekday. They can wait.”

I stare at her as I use my tag to punch in. “I’m within the window.”

“Leave him alone, Celly,” Mikah says. “I need a break from drinks, anyway. You’re up, D-Man.” He claps me on the shoulder, and I step up to the drink line to look at the long tail of orders pumping out of the printer.

There’s something Zen about working drinks. I’m in my zone as I create one masterpiece after another.

Hairy Fairy. A little sparkle pizzazz on top of the whip. Straw. I pull the receipt and set it on the counter. “Michael,” I call and return to my spot.

I get the next few orders going—a Purple Monster, Closet Buster, and a Roast Coco Bow.

That’s a weird one that’s gained a lot of popularity this spring.

I think it’s the toasted coconut flavor that everyone loves.

I keep the three cups separate as I mix and shake, pouring each component when it’s ready.

Covers on and to the counter. I set each one on their receipt and call their names. “Amanda. Jasper. Roux. Drinks up.”

It’s monotonous and yet varied enough between drinks that I can get lost in the rhythm. Minutes might go by. Hours. I remain in a bubble of drinks, letting my mind drift to literally anything else.

Like the fact that I just spent $400 on purchasing a date with Peyton Brady. My parents will surely understand that it was an emergency purchase, right? It’ll explain away the fact that I used the emergency credit card.

I could tell them I didn’t have a choice. I’m not brave enough to outright ask him out. Even though I see him almost every day when I work at the Queer Palace Café, and I think he even flirts with me. Like all the time.

Still, I don’t have big enough balls to just say, ‘ Hey, you’re cute. Can we go out sometime?’

There are always dozens of people around. Not a chance in hell I’m going to try that.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

My heart nearly slams out of my chest at his voice, and I raise my eyes to meet Peyton’s. I’m not sure I can count that as flirting. He once ordered a hot drink, and when our fingers touched, he noted how hot mine were.

But it’s certainly an innuendo. So that counts. I think.

“Hey, footballer,” I greet in return, flashing him a smile without losing a beat.

God, his smile is dazzling. And those dimples! Fuck my life.

“You move into the café? Have a bed out back?” he asks.

“I push the tables in the corner together and cover myself with trays for warmth,” I return. “You should try it sometime. Super comfortable.” I take the three drinks to the counter and read off the receipts. “Torey, Jessica, Rico. Drinks up.”

That was as close to ‘ You should join me sometime ’ as I’m brave enough to say. At least with so many people around. I’m not entirely sure he’s actually flirting with me. What if he’s not and becomes horrified by something I say?

Nope. I wouldn’t survive the humiliation.

Peyton stays in front of me as he usually does while I mix drinks. I love it. I love how, out of everyone in the busy café, he chooses to talk to me while he waits for his order.

Today, I’m waiting for something very specific, though. I’m waiting for an indication that he knows it was me who won his auction date. I study him as much as I’m able to while creating drinks. I weigh every word he says. When he gets to weekend plans, I think that maybe he does know and yet…

“You working over the long weekend?” Peyton asks.

I lick my lips as I stare at his handsome face. “Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “Took all four days off.”

He grins. “Cool, man. You work a lot. Have any plans?”

That! That right there… is that a hint that he knows? I’ve never taken Peyton as subtle, so I think if he knew it was me, he’d say something.

“I have a date,” I admit.

His grin widens. “Totally jealous of your date, dude.” He winks.

Okay, I might be overthinking this interaction, but that means he knows it’s me, right? I swear, I need subtitles for his thoughts, so I don’t make a fool of myself.

“Don’t be.”

I look at the receipts and place four orders on the counter, calling their names. “What about you?” I ask. “Plans this weekend? Or is it all football?”

“Kayaking,” he says. “Definitely looking forward to it. I haven’t kayaked in ages. It’s going to be killer.”

“Nice. You going alone?”

“I have a date on Friday. We’re going kayaking at the big lake in the valley. There are islands and shit. Going to do the romantic thing and have a picnic. It’ll be cool.”

“That sounds great,” I say. Nope. He doesn’t know it’s me. I’m not sure he knows my name. That’s the only explanation for why he hasn’t figured it out. I glance down at what I’m doing, disguising the move so I can look at my name tag. Totally there. It says Dana.

Okay. Let’s try something else. Subtle. Because I’m far too self-conscious for anything direct right now. “You have fun at the festival last weekend?”

“Eh. Had my heart broken, which—” He shrugs. “That was my own doing. I’m not subtle and he was just being nice, but it still sucks.”

My stomach twists. I move away from him to call the next few orders and then come back. “Sorry.”

His smile is sweet. I think maybe it’s flirty. I’m convinced further when he says, “I just need a little cheering up.” Another wink.

Gah! Where is my bravery right now? I need to say something flirty back. “I know a way,” I blurt.

Before he can respond or I can burst into flames, a couple of his teammates join him, and his attention is taken from me. Thank fuck for that. Talk about humiliating myself. Especially considering that he didn’t respond at all.

I’m almost relieved when I get to his order. I say his name, and he turns to me so I can hand him his drink. He smiles, that same dazzling smile that lights up my dreams. “Thanks, hot stuff.” He takes a sip and mmmm s. “You’re a master brat tamer.” Peyton raises his drink and moves away. “See you.”

I raise a hand, sighing at yet another missed opportunity. I watch him walk away. For just a second, I don’t move on to the next order. I just watch him. I shot a shot this time, right? Was I denied?

I love the teases he always sends me over his drinks. He’d ordered a Brat Tamer today, which is an elevated spicy hot chocolate with espresso and Aztec spices. The coffee enhances the chocolate, taming the heat from the spice. Hence, Brat Tamer.

There are actual reasons behind the names of the drinks. They make sense when you understand the flavors. No one needs to know that we come up with the names first and then create the drinks to go with them. That’s a Queer Palace Café secret.

Once more, I lose myself in the rhythm of drinks until I finally turn to reach for the next receipt, and there isn’t one. I sigh. Now that I have a break, I feel breathless. Tired. Inhaling, I step back and look around the café.

Peyton isn’t here anymore. He and his friends left. It’s still busy with people lingering while they eat. Chatting. It’s constant noise.

“Okay, catch me up,” Mikah says. “He seemed extra flirty today, no?”

I sigh. “I don’t think so. I think he must be flirty with everyone. It’s not personal.”

“But he knows you have your auction date coming up, and he’s still flirting with you.”

I’m not convinced he knows. I’m not sure how I feel about him not knowing my name. We talk every day while I’m working. Every single day. Doesn’t that, at the very least, make us friends?

Maybe it doesn’t. We don’t hang out. We haven’t exchanged phone numbers. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him outside of the café.

“Right,” I say, not wanting to admit that Peyton probably hasn’t figured it out. Besides, even if he knows my name, he likely doesn’t know my last name. It’s not like I’ve given him any indication since the festival that it was me.

A new receipt pops out of the printer, and I flip it to look at the order.

“I don’t know. I think he was flirting with intention this time,” Mikah says. “Tony. Weigh in.”

Tony turns from the food prep station where Mikah had been.

During mealtimes, there are typically two people prepping food, one on drinks, and one at the register processing orders and handing out pastries.

We’re not the only café on campus, but I think the combination of playful names and that our food and drinks are really good, keeps us one of the busiest places.

“Totally,” Tony agrees and turns back to his meal prep.

I roll my eyes. Tony wasn’t paying attention. There are days I think he’s lost entirely in his own world. We’re invaders in that world.

“You’re hoping for a four-day date, aren’t you?” Celeste asks as she steps away from the register. The lull won’t last long, but it’s nice to catch our breath for a second.

“Dylan,” I call as I set down the drink I was working on and turn to my coworkers. “Obviously.”

I could play it up that I took the days off for personal reasons, because Peyton isn’t wrong. I work a lot. I hate boredom, and I like money. This seems like the best solution to both problems. But yeah, I’m kind of hoping we hit it off on this date.

When I heard about the athlete date auction, I was fucking pumped. I knew I’d max out the damn emergency credit card my parents gave me if I needed to as soon as I saw his name on the list. I may have his little trading card like each participant made to ‘ sell ’ themselves in my wallet.

That I won’t admit to anyone, though. It’s probably a little too obsessive than what should be shared out loud.

Celeste grabs my forearm to stop me from cleaning. I meet her eyes. “This is your chance, Dana. Make sure you make the most of it. Talk to him.”

Oh yeah, I’m not fooling a fucking soul. At least not anyone I’m working with. Awesome.