20

20

Sunday morning was chilly, so Cari pulled her jacket tighter around herself. Most people would think a day like this was actually too warm for a jacket, but Cari didn’t care; she was always cold.

She yawned, her eyes watering. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, or the night before that, actually. The life of the never-improving-artist was one full of sacrifices, after all. She saw the sign of a coffee shop jutting out of one of the buildings on her left, so she figured she might as well get a coffee.

She entered the suddenly warm café and looked around. There was no one there except a blonde boy working as cashier. Cari felt for her credit card in her pocket and walked to the counter.

“Excuse me,” Cari said to the blonde boy, whose back was to her. “I’d like a medium turtle mocha and a blueberry muffin, please.”

“Sure, sure,” the cashier said, sporting a British accent. “In a minute.” He seemed to be tied up trying to get the coffee maker started. Cari waited patiently for the cashier to fix it. Once he finally did, he turned around victoriously, pushing up his glasses.

“Now then,” he said, looking at her. “What...what can I do for you?” He seemed a bit caught off guard when he looked at her. Cari blushed a bit; he was handsome, and seemed to be a bit of a hipster with a purple streak in his blonde hair, his thick rimmed glasses, and a striped scarf wrapped around his neck. It didn’t match his uniform at all.

“I’d like a medium turtle mocha and a blueberry muffin, please,” Cari said again, smiling a little.

“S-sure thing,” the boy said. He got the muffin and set it on the counter in a brown paper bag with the shop’s logo on it. He started the coffee maker and turned back around to Cari while it heated up.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked her. “You look oddly familiar.”

“Maybe school,” Cari replied, handing him the credit card to charge her for the coffee and muffin. “I don’t get out much.”

“What school do you go to?” he asked, sliding the card.

“English High,” Cari replied, taking the card back with the receipt.

“No kidding,” he said, grinning. “You a sophomore?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re in the same grade at the same school,” he said. He extended his hand. “My name is Eridan Ampora.”

“Caritatis Solus,” she said, shaking his hand, “but my friends call me Cari.”

“Cari,” Eridan echoed. “Nice to meet you.” He gave her the coffee finally and wished her a good day. Before she left, he asked, “Um, Cari, this might be a bit sudden, but would you like to...do something tomorrow? After school?”

“S-sure,” she replied, smiling at him. “I’d like that. I’ll meet you by the front doors.”

“Okay,” Eridan said, grinning. “Be sure to come back for coffee again.”

“I will.”

Cari left the coffee shop and took a drink of her coffee. She couldn’t wait to tell Keevan.

 

“Cari!” Keevan cried when she had told her about her morning. “I know who you’re talking about, he’s in my history class!” Keevan danced around the check-out desk of the library and took Cari’s hands. “I’m so proud of you for finally talking to someone other than me and Amantis!”

Cari blushed and brushed it off; she knew it was supposed to be a joke, but it was true.

“Enough about me,” Cari insisted. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been just wonderful!” Keevan exclaimed. “I have a new boyfriend and he’s sweet and adorable�"”

“Who is he?” Cari asked.

“Karkat!” Keevan told her. “From Homeroom.”

“A-are you sure he’s as sweet as you say?” Cari asked her nervously as Keevan danced back around the counter. “Remember, that’s how Jack started out...”

“I know,” Keevan said, “but trust me, Karkat’s different. I saw a side of him that I don’t think anyone else has seen before. I...I can’t explain it. I love him. And he loves me.”

“Well…alright,” Cari said. “I’ll trust your judgment.” Keevan smiled.

“I’d better be getting back to work,” Keevan said. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. See you.”

 

Cari quietly walked into her house and closed the door behind her. Her mother was asleep on the couch, hugging an empty vodka bottle. Cari sighed and draped a blanket over her and then retired to her room. She threw her jacket on her bed and thought about Eridan. He had basically asked her out on a date.

Did that really happen? she asked herself. She studied herself in the mirror. Pale skin, pale blonde hair, glasses, and a dark and unappealing turtleneck sweater with matching jeans.

“I imagined it,” she declared, sitting down on her bed. She pulled her laptop and drawing tablet out from under the mess of blankets and started drawing. She restarted four times before she got frustrated and slammed the laptop shut.

“I’m a failure at everything,” she whispered to herself, hugging her knees. “Eridan probably just pitied me. Or he thought I was someone else.”

He couldn’t possibly be interested in ME.