He cracks up, a sight that makes me feel way better than when this ride started.
“Is that apussywillow?”
“Yyyyep,” I say, popping theP. “Lesbian-owned coffee shops are thebest.”
Shaking his head, he checks his phone as he hops out of the truck. The smile slides off his mouth and a snarl takes its place. I up-nod him, and he shoves the phone back into his pocket.
“Charlie just texted me. Says he and Justin will be back tomorrow, and he’s got big news for me.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Rolling my eyes at Ant, I check, and sure enough, it’s pretty much the same message.
“Is it wrong that I want to ruin their ‘surprise’ and tell them we already know?” I ask, setting off the bell as I open the door for Ant.
He scrunches his nose. “I dunno. Ask me after coffee.”
Speaking of which, the smell of coffee beans roasted by artisanal lesbians wafts over me, and I try to put on a happy face.
“Hey, Z.”
Zoya’s been Willow’s head barista since her sister opened the shop, and there’s something comforting in seeing her drying a stack of coffee mugs, wearing her black-gray-white-and-purple Ace T-shirt, as we walk in.
“You finally bring a friend, and you’rebothgiving Wednesday Addams,” she deadpans.
I like Zoya because she doesn’t try to be too cheerful in the morning and gives as good as she gets. Her hair is currently a faded violet, and she’s wearing a few more piercings than normal.
“Wow, Zoya, you look positively festive.”
“It’s International Asexuality Day,” she says, pointing to the board. “And Susan let me set the special.”
I find the special and crack up. It’s the AroAce: a cup of plain black coffee, no cream, no sugar, full price.
“An inspired choice, but the two of us need all the extras.”
She grins. “Don’t I know it. I saw you coming and restocked the creamer at the coffee station.”
“Thank you, my friend. I’ll let Ant tell you what he wants.”
Ant steps up to the counter, self-consciously touching his ponytail. I think the Wednesday Addams comment hit a nerve.
Looking up at the vast variety of coffee options on the chalkboard behind her, he asks quietly, “Can I get a Mexican vanilla mocha with an extra shot and whipped cream on top?”
“Sure thing, baby queer. Would you like some chocolate shavings on top of that?”
His eyes go wide. “You know I’m gay?” he asks, looking around, touching his ponytail again.
“Not to assume or anything, you just look like the kind of guy who’s been told he was wrong his whole entire life.”
The thing about Ant is he’s a little…uneven. I don’t know his whole story, but I know it’s not good. I’ve also learned he can swing between shy and prickly, and there’s not much rhyme or reason to what’ll set him off.
Setting his jaw, he fixes her with a glare. “Actually, the johns who passed me around always said I was their most cooperativegirl. Saved my face on more than one occasion.”
Zoya, whose default setting is unbothered, swallows thickly, flicking her eyes to mine. I grimace, sending her a subtle shake of my head.
I had no fucking idea.
“Shit, dude. I mean…um. Pronoun check?” she asks, completely flustered.
“He/him. Johns like that are always fucking straight. They just like little ‘girls,’” he says with pointed air quotes, “who can’t get pregnant.”
