Coffee-Stained Romance: The Party

Note: We've had a change in format here. The idea of chapters has been dropped; we're now dealing with short stories. There will be more time in between up-dates, but more material. Further, we're working on a copyright for these characters and places. Just so you know. Please to enjoy . . .

COFFEE-STAINED ROMANCE
"THE PARTY"

Kelly woke up to the sound of her alarm and shuffled her way across the room. The apartment was unusually cold and she realized that it might be time to up the temperature (and her gas bill) and bust out the heavier blankets.

The first thing she did was start her coffee. As the aroma of the brew filled the kitchen, she took her shower, discarding her pajama pants and tee shirt on the floor of the bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later, hair up in a towl and robed. She poured her cup 3/4 of the way up and added creamer to dull its pure black thrust.

She sat down on her couch and flicked on the TV. Kelly sipped at her coffee as the news played out before her. Outside, the sky was gray and it looked as though it rained last night. The trees were dull despite their warm colors. It was going to be a quiet day for Kelly. No class, no work . . . she didn't think she'd end up with a day off like this.

After a while, she grew bored with the news. She pulled on a pair of lounge pants (read: pajama pants) and a tee shirt and hungered down with her laptop. Outside, it started to rain pretty hard. Once her computer finished its despressingly slow start-up process - the machine was starting to show its age - she got on-line. Kelly made the usual rounds and finally ended up at Facebook.

Where she had an invitation to a party at Todd's place.

LORREL'S 21st BIRTHDAY!
We will drink, we will be loud, and it will be mother-fuckin' booooooze-time!!1!

"Not very subtle, are you guys?"

She wondered absently about this, about them, about Todd. Kelly seemed to be always on alert about guys. Kelly was always certain that when they were nice to her, they were nice because they liked her -- or at least liked the way she looked and wanted what she had. She felt this same way about Todd. She suspected that he was perhaps crushing on her. Maybe it was the way he wondered about how she felt about "Ultimate X-Men" or maybe it was that he had moved next to her in Comp and Lit.

She was sure, at this point, that he did in fact have a crush on her. It was just a feeling. Just a simple feeling, that's all.

Of course, Kelly didn't feel the same way back. Todd was a nice guy. He was cute and funny, but there was very little common ground. That trip to Starbucks had been a strange anomaly in what had become nothing more than a in-class friendship. He hadn't even IMed her or anything. They friended each other on both Facebook and MySpace.

But that was simply it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Let the boy have his crush, she thought with an amusing smile. It's perfectly fine. He's a nice guy. He probably won't even say anything -- and if he does, big whoop, right? Let him down easy and you'll either get a friend or lose someone who loaned you some comics and gave you a mix.

Simple as that.

She accepted the invitation.

***

Todd was doing fine after two beers. No tingle in his fingers; just a little heat in his cheeks. The party around him was chaotic. He could hear, over the pounding of the speakers, the laughing screams of young women. He heard a few shouts from just outside the backdoor, where a game of Beer-Pong was unfolding. Lorrel was doing shots already in the kitchen with Alex and Roger.

And yet, the one person Todd was really hoping would show hadn't arrived yet. His green eyes scanned the crowd and looked to the door often.

"Todd! Get your ass in here and do a shot!"

Todd complied and followed some slutty-looking chick into the kitchen. There were probably close to thirty party in the apartment, making it a little difficult to navigate. Lorrel was pouring five shots of Jack Daniel's and Todd made sure to have a beer ready as a chaser.

"To school!" Lorrel yelled out, lifting his shot glass high, but somehow managing to not spill a single drop. "To higher education!"

Todd fired it back, the liquid hot and somewhat sweet as it flowed down his throat. He chased it quickly with a beer.

"Got one for me?"

Todd turned around and there she was. Miss Kelly Shaw, with her brown hair back in a braided ponytail, wearing a jacket over a small pink top. She smiled warmly.

He pulled out a shotglass. "You sure? 'Liquor before beer . . .'"

"I thought it was 'beer before liquor.'"

"Well, that's good enough for me," Lorrel stepped in. "Get this girl a shotglass!"

"The birthday boy," Todd said, slapping Lorrel on the back.

"Nice to meet you."

"Same here," Lorrel replied, pouring the next round of shots.

"I need something to chase it down," Kelly stated.

"You can have some of my beer," Todd offered.

"Um . . ."

"Jeez Todd," Lorrel grunted, pulling out a beer from the fridge. "Here ya go."

Kelly smiled at Lorrel; a smile that lasted a little too long for Todd's taste.

They fired the Jack back and Kelly quickly turned to her beer to sooth it's burning journey. Outside, shouts from Beer-Pong echoed into the kitchen.

"Thanks," she said to Lorrel. "Getting the night off right."

"Gotta make that first one count," Lorrel responded.

"So how can you get away with a party this size without pissing off the neighbors?"

"The girt next door - Mellisa - is the one making out with Scott over there," pointed out Lorrel. "The apartment on the other side is empty and the one just after that has two guys who are playing Beer-Pong. They help provide the food and we provide the locale."

"Nice," Kelly replied, taking a swig of her beer.

"You like that kind?" Todd questioned.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's not bad."

"Hey Kelly!" shouted a girl with dirty blonde hair.

"Oh hey Sam. Didn't expect to find you here."

Samantha grinned at her apparent boyfriend. "Alex here is friends with the Beech Hill boys."

"Oh wow, hey, small world, right?" Kelly laughed.

"You two know each other?" asked Todd.

No shit Sherlock, Kelly thought immediately. "Yeah. We have a few classes together."

Samantha and Kelly began to chat. Lorrel walked over and pulled Todd out of the kitchen. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded just loud enough for Todd to hear.

"I have no idea." Todd sighed. "I . . . gah . . . nothing's coming out right."

Lorrel slapped his hands onto Todd's shoulders. "Just chill, dude. Relax. Finish the beer, have some more and just have a good time."

"Everything going okay?" asked David, arriving just then.

"Where the fuck you been?" Lorrel questioned.

David lifted a six pack of Smirnoff and a six pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade. "Presents."

Lorrel pulled out a Smirnoff and handed it to Todd. "Go in there and offer this to her."

Todd was pratically pushed into the kitchen. Kelly was still talking it up with Samantha.

"Um, hey Kelly. I have a Smirnoff for you if you want it."

"Huh? Oh no thanks. I've got my beer."

"I'll take it!" Samantha leapt in.

Todd handed it over.

"Thanks Todd!"

When Todd returned to the living room empty-handed, Lorrel sighed, shrugged his shoulders, and turned away from him. David, in the meantime, took Todd by the arms and lead him back through the kitchen, passed the girls, and outside.

"Let's play some Beer Pong."

By the time the game was over, the beer was flat and felt more like a punishment to drink than a pleasure. Todd was starting to feel numb in his hands and had slapped his face to see if he felt anything. He was starting not to. Which was good. It was time to get drunk.

When he returned to the living room, Samantha was nowhere to be found and Kelly was now sitting and talking with a red-haired girl he recognized from Coffee Haven; Danielle, maybe. He gave her a passing looking, but kept walking.

Lorrel was sitting out on the front porch with a pair of friends that Todd didn't really know.

"I need something that'll knock me on my ass," Todd simply interrupted.

"Dude, you're on your own now," Lorrel answered.

Todd was about to reply when suddenly, David appeared at the door. "Hey Todd, I think I just saw that girl you like go downstairs."

"My room!"

Todd moved as fast as he could through the crowd, dodging and weaving best he could to get to the kitchen and the basement door. After finally getting down the stairs, he found Kelly standing in the center of his messy room, looking at a sketchbook on his desk. She jerked her head up.

"Caught me!"

"Yeah," he replied, wishing he had.

"Sorry. I was looking for you and someone told me you were out back and then you weren't, so . . . yeah."

"You came into my room?"

She shrugged. "I was desperate."

"To talk to me?"

Kelly looked down. "Not really. To say good bye. I gotta work tomorrow and I'm already fairly tipsy. I know if I stay too long I'll just keep drinking."

"Oh. Uh, okay."

"Sorry. And uh, I couldn't help but glance at your sketchbook. You're really good."

"Thanks." He paused. "Are you going to be okay to drive?"

"I didn't drive, I walked."

"Oh! Well, let me walk you home at least!"

"What?"

"Yeah. Please. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Kelly looked up in thought, then nodded. "Yeah, sure."


The pair soon stepped outside, the air refreshingly cool after the heat of all those bodies inside the townhouse. Kelly waved at a girl who was sitting on the porch, talking with some guy. "I didn't know you guys knew so many people."

Todd grinned a little. "We don't. People know people . . . and then they all show up."

"Ah, I see. So, you guys have any more parties coming up? I'd like to come when I can actually, y'know, stay and get drunk."

"We're having a huge Halloween bash. I think Lorrell wants it to be even bigger than this one here."

"Geez."

"Yeah. It'll be a blast, I'm sure."

They chatted a bit more, reaching campus. As they made their way around the English Departments and towards the steep hill in the center of campus - in front of the Student Center - Kelly looked at a big group of students running around with no shirts on.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Hell if I know. You didn't see this sort of thing at your last school?

"No. Stark State was just one big ass building. No dorms, no nothing." She looked around then, taking in the sight of campus at night. "I definetly prefer Maxwell. Stark was great, but this actually feels like what a college should be like."

Todd didn't really have much of an answer and went a little quiet. She smiled akwardly at him and the pair kept on going.

"How's your brother?" Todd asked at last. They arrived at the edge of campus now.

"He's fine as far as I know." She said this with a tone that told Todd to not say another word. He recalled her rant at Starbucks and took the tone at its implied value.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up . . ."

"It's okay."

"Uh . . . you look good tonight."

"Thanks. Are you drunk?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "A little. The night air - uh, it sobered me up a bit."

"It does do that."

"Hey, Kelly . . . uh, listen . . ." He stammered, trying to get the words straight. Trying to get his half-drunk brain to obey the parts that wanted to ask her out. "I . . . do you want to do something next Friday? Like, get some drinks? See a movie?"

"Oh Lord."

"What?"

"Todd . . ." She stopped and turned to him. "Look, you're a great guy and - "

"Oh come on! That speech?! Seriously?!"

Kelly shrugged. "I'm sorry, Todd. I just don't think of you like that. And, to be honest, I . . . I just kinda got out of this long-term relationship."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's been a few months . . . but I'm still just not feeling like dating or going out or anything. Do you understand?"

"I guess so."

"Hey, look. I still want to be friends, okay? You're a cool guy. And I want to read the next X-Men comics!" That last part was an exaggeration.

"Right, right."

She smiled, but it wasn't nor did it look genuine. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"That's fine."

"And we're still friends?"

"Yes, of course."

She stuck out her hand for him to shake. For a brief moment, he felt like just leaning forward and kissing her instead. He fought the half-drunk instinct and shook her small hand.

"Okay," Kelly said, releasing. "I can handle it from here. See you Tuesday?"

"Tuesday it is."

Todd watched then as Kelly walked down the road and turned towards home. Sighing with utter defeat and fighting an unnerving sense of doubt and defeat within him, he turned back towards the party at Beech Hill.

***

His name was Sean Gordon and he was Kelly's first in a lot of ways. First post-high school boyfriend. First man she thought seriously about being married to. First to break her heart harder and with more devastation than all of her stupid high school boyfriends. And, of course, her first lover.

They met at Camp Y-Noah, where Kelly had volunteered to work at the summer after she graduated. It turned out he had been living just up the road a few miles and in a small allotment tucked away off Route 619.

He was her age, their birthday just a few weeks apart. She was taken immediately by his soft green eyes and those black curls that fell across the brow of his face. He was a sweet-talker, always flattering -- to the brink of making her blush furiously, face burning red. But more than anything, there was a sense of maturity within that she had never seen before in someone their age. He was smart; he often talked about wanting to become a biologist.

All of those good things came to an end when, this past June, he slapped her across the face.

Her face burned, but not out of embarassment from compliments; out of a harsh, stinging that remained on her right cheek for hours after the event.

Sean broke down crying after that and he apologized over and over. She tried to understand and even though she eventually told him he was forgiven, she lied. And everything was over with that.

Kelly did everything she could to just push the memories of Sean out of her head as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. She of course recognized that Sean and Todd were completely different people. And she understood that it had been over four months since they broke up. But it didn't change things. Not one bit. She was shaken by the end of that relationship and still felt as though starting a new one now just . . .

"I'm not ready," she sighed, flipping on her living room light. "I don't feel ready."

And she didn't feel that way about Todd. He was a sweet guy, though. And cute, to boot. But she wasn't ready to go down that road.

Kelly got changed. After she laid down in bed, a voice inside her told her something that surprised her.

You're going to have to be. Someday, you're going to have to go down that road again.

***

"Shot you down, huh?"

Todd nodded glumly and gulped his beer. "Yep."

Lorreel smirked. "Don't know what to tell ya."

"I know."

The party had surprisingly calmed down since Todd's little trip. There were maybe fifteen people left. The music had dimmed a little. Break on Through played now.

"I think you can take some comfort in a little friend of mine," Lorrell said then.

"Oh?"

He pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Let's have some drinks with Jackie boy here."

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter Four: Comics and Coffee

Chapter Four: Comics and Coffee

Other than her job at Coffee Haven, Kelly actually had a second job. This one she considered her ‘real job,’ though it wasn’t full time nor was it looking to be. She worked at the Arlington Road Convention Center. This was the job her Associates Degree had gotten her. Well, that and her Uncle Joe who ran the Convention Center. Plus, her job wasn’t exactly exciting. Basically, she worked on the webpage, which was run by her cousins Ronnie and Alexis. She took pictures and wrote copy. It wasn’t exciting, but it was something for her resume.

This afternoon, all she had to do was take a few pictures of the comic book convention. It wasn’t the first time she’s had to do something like this, but it was in fact her first comic book convention. The floor was filled with a cavalcade of people, most of which were in their teens on up. Girls and boys in Goth-y clothes; some punks. College kids with super-hero t-shirts leaning over boxes of comics, digging intently with focused concentration on finding a long-lost issue or something. Older guys with briefcases and print-outs, laughing and talking about Star Wars. And – much to her shock and surprise – no one, not a soul, dressed in a super-hero costume. No one was dressed as a character from Star Wars or Star Trek or as Batman or Spider-Man or anyone else.

As she snapped random photos, she wondered if she could relate to anyone here. She was a closet Star Trek fan and could be pretty hard-core about it when she wanted to be. That being said, Kelly had only been to two Star Trek conventions and that was nearly ten years ago. This was different.

There was an unusual smell in the air – something like sweat and b.o. mixed with old paper and dust. It was strange.

Kelly took her last picture . . . then saw someone familiar and decided she could get one more.

“Say cheese!”

There was a flash and she suddenly had a picture of Todd looking startled as he bent over a box of comics.

“Whoa!”

“Hey,” she said, lowering her camera.

“Hi. What - what are you doing here?” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen her earlier.

“I do some web press for my uncle. He runs this place.”

“Web press?”

“Kinda like PR.”

“Oh yeah.”

The two had seen each other in class every Tuesday and Thursday, but other than the occasional small talk, their interaction had been light. They hadn’t seen the other at Coffee Haven at all.

“So what are you doing here?” she asked him. “I didn’t know you were into comics.”

“Heh,” was his only reply. His face turned a little red in the cheeks and he uncomfortably rubbed the back of his head. “Well, yeah, I’m actually a pretty big geek.”

Kelly grinned. “Cool.”

“Yeah, I guess. I was actually helping a buddy run his booth, but since the convention is closing up here soon, he let me wander. I’ll be coming back tomorrow, though.”

“Oh cool,” she said again. “Did you get your paper finished?”

“Almost. I just have to write it.”

She laughed a little. “It’s due Monday.”

“I know. I’ve got tomorrow yet. After I’m done here, I’ll write it up.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.”

A big guy stepped between them, his chubby fingers dancing across the box of comics with a grace that his large body wasn’t able to reproduce. Todd stepped around him, his search for JLA # 32 abandoned. Kelly watched the man’s fingers, then turned to Todd.

“How is yours coming along?”

“I’ve just got go over the rough draft with a fine-toothed comb again, and then just work up the final copy.”

“Well done.”

“Thank you.”

A pair of guys pushed by them, ignoring Todd and Kelly completely on their way to find some hot Anime babes.

“You want to get some coffee?” Todd asked suddenly and as soon as he said it, he saw a surprised look on Kelly’s face.

“What’s that?”

“I . . . I was wondering if you wanted to get some coffee. There’s a Starbucks right down the street.”

She smiled a little, then rolled her eyes in thought. Todd waited, ready for a rejection. “Uh, yeah, sure. I just have to get this to me cousin real quick,” she said, lifting up her camera. Quite accidentally, the flash suddenly flared, catching Todd’s expression of joy at the acceptance of his offer.

“A moment captured forever,” Todd laughed.

“I guess so. Listen, how about I meet you there in, like, twenty minutes?”

“Sure thing.”

“Awesome.”

Kelly gave him another small laugh, then walked away. He watched her, surprised at his own initiative in this matter. This was completely outside his normal realm of acting. But as he grabbed his last minute comics, he smiled in spite of himself.

That sunny Saturday afternoon, Starbucks was enjoying what they would consider a slightly more than average busy period. Two trios of teenage girls chatted. A woman that Todd guessed was in her early thirties sat at the other end of a long row of curved windows, talking seriously into her cell phone. Two guys nearby were talking about work while one of them held and played with a baby. A college student – Todd guessed – was sitting by himself with a laptop and a tall stack of thick books.

He sipped on a Grande White Chocolate Mocha and waited for Kelly to show up. He didn’t bother bringing in his comics, though part him thought he might as well just in case she decided not to show. He hoped that she would, but he also knew that sometimes some women creep out easily.

“Hey,” she greeted, appearing by the table like a phantom. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hey. Okay.”

Kelly went up to the counter and ordered. Todd sat there, his heart beating a little faster, trying not to stare. Instead, he looked outside. Across the street, signs for Applebees, Wal-Mart, and IHOP stood up proudly, trying to get the attention of those traveling on the highway that exited just a little down the road. The afternoon sun was glowing warmly against the clear, blue sky that was distracted only by the occasional puffy white cloud.

“Do me a favor?” Kelly said as she sat down what looked to be a Tall something. “Don’t tell my boss I’m here. I think he’d kill me.”

“Why is that? Is he one of those anti-Starbucks guys?”

“Not really, but he constantly accuses them of stealing our customers since they put one in the Hub.”

“Ah. I guess I can understand that, though to be honest, I prefer Coffee Haven. It has a certain quality to it.”

“Unique?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

She nodded confidently. “I love coffee houses. I mean, I like Starbucks and Caribou Coffee and the like, but you can’t beat a privately-owned coffeehouse.” She paused and looked to her drink. “I have a bizarre interest in coffee.”

He snorted a little. “I have a bizarre interest in comics. It’s not a big deal.”

“But at least comics are normal.”

“Ha! Glad you understand.”

“Heheh, well, okay . . . it’s not like everyone is into comics.”

“They should be. They’re good.”

She drank some of her coffee. “I guess not everyone’s into super-heroes.”

“Comics aren’t just about super-heroes.”

She snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, yeah. What are those shows on after Family Guy on Adult Swim? Anime? I guess there’s that.”

“Oh well, yeah, there’s that, but that’s something else all together. Comics aren’t just about science fiction and fantasy and super-heroes. It’s a very elaborate form of storytelling. Everyone just looks at these clichés and at these ideas that stem from that stupid Batman show from the 60s. Comics – super-hero comics – stopped being ‘Bam! Pow!’ decades ago.”

“Oh?”

“Yes! It’s about a marriage of literature and art. It’s a form of storytelling that is engraved in human history. Cave man paintings? Hieroglyphics? There are some people that consider those a primal form of comic storytelling. They’re far more than the average person gives them credit for.”

“You’ve had this little rant saved up for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Well . . .” His face blushed just a little. She smiled. It was cute. “I guess so, yeah.”

She sipped her coffee. “Well, I never really thought of comics like that. I was dragged to a few super-heroes movies. They were pretty good, I guess. The X-Men movies were good.”

He nodded. “Yeah, they are. The comics are good too.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I can – I can loan you some.” He took another drink of his coffee. It was starting to cool, becoming a little sweeter as the syrup settled and the coffee cooled. “But, uh, like I was saying, there’s more than just super-heroes. There are tons of other genres. My philosophy is that for every movie or television show or book, there’s a counter part in the comics for them.”

“And what comic would you suggest for me?”
“I don’t know what you’re into.”

“I love movies. Old movies, especially, but I like a lot of different movies. And coffee, like I said.”

Todd paused, thinking hard, but bringing up a lot of blanks. “Hmmm, uh, let me think here. Road to Perdition, the one that was adapted into a movie with Tom Hanks? That’s a good one. Maybe League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.”

She shook her head passionately. “No, no. I don’t think so. The movie was terrible.”

“Oh, yeah, the movie is a pile of shit, but the comic is fuckin’ brilliant.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

“It’s true! Trust me.”

“Okay, well, what else?”

“Blankets, maybe. It’s pretty great. Artsy, but good. If you’re into that.”

Her eyes lit up. “I think I’ve heard of that, actually. It was reviewed on NPR.”

“You listen to NPR?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a dork. But I love it.”

“Isn’t it just all talk radio or something? I know they play at Coffee Haven all the time, but I usually tune it or listen to my iPod . . .”

“Ha! IPod, heh, Mr. High-Tech . . .”

“It’s freakin’ sweet, is what it is.”

“Maybe. I can’t afford one.”

“I got it for a birthday present, actually.”

“Oh, I see.”

They both paused, silence filling in. Kelly drank and looked outside briefly. Cars zoomed by. The silence was a little uncomfortable and Todd searched hard for something to talk about. He figured she had heard enough about comic books.

“You-you do know what the date is, don’t you?” she asked timidly.

Todd nodded solemnly “Yes.” He paused. “Where were you?”

She lowered her eyes. “Home, sick. I remember lying in bed when the phone rang. It was my Dad, telling us that a plane hit one of the towers. Between the time he found out and we turned on the TV, the second plane hit. You?”

“School. They tried to continue on with classes, but most of the teachers wanted to watch it all happen as much as we did. One of my teachers actually had a daughter living in New York.”

“Bet she was worried.”

“Yeah. She got a call from her in the middle of class. Grabbed her cell phone and answered it. I remember, it was a big deal because no one was allowed to use – or even have – a cell phone in the school. But she knew we wouldn’t say anything and it was pretty ‘fuck you’ to the administrators if they got on her about using the phone in class. But yeah, her daughter called, and she answered and she just broke down crying when she got the call. Her daughter was near ground zero.”

“Now we’re at war.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I remember being all gung-ho for the war in Afghanistan. Now look at this mess in Iraq.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I have a brother over there.”

Todd started. “Really?”

“Yeah. It’s . . . not easy. He joined up so he could hunt down Osama. Now he’s running around Baghdad or wherever.”

“How does he feel about that?”

“He hates it. It’s not what he signed up to do and it’s not like he has much say. Thank God he only has one more year of this, and then, he’s out.”

“Crimeny.”

“It’s Bush, though. That fucking idiot.” She paused and looked at him, worried that maybe that was too much. Instead, he had a look of sadness mixed with curiosity and uncertainty. “Sorry. I’m a pretty hard-core Democrat.”

“Ah, well, so am I, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Yeah. I’m definitely not a Republican. I mean, I believe in God and all that, but eh, yeah.”

“Since when did Republican become the same thing as being Christian? I hate that. I’m a Christian too, but I can’t and won’t support Bush. All he’s trying to do right now is throw out all these so-called mid-western values to appeal to Christians. All this bull-shit about abortion, the space program, and gay marriage. It’s all just crap to win over voters.”

He avoided saying anything to contrary, though Todd wondered just what in the world the space program had to do with mid-western values. He also avoided saying that the Democrats were doing a very similar thing to what Bush was doing – appealing to left-winged values in the hopes of winning over their votes. He worried about offending her, but also, he worried about revealing that when it came to politics, he wasn’t very passionate.

“Just as long as we can get out of Iraq,” he said after a pause.

“Well, that’s the bitch of it, Todd,” she said now a little louder and it was only the very few times she had ever said his name. “It’s not just getting out of Iraq, y’know? It’s not like World War Two or Korea or even Desert fucking Storm. We just aren’t to raise our fingers in the air in the shape of a ‘V,’ declare victory, then head on out with a perfect mother-fucking country sitting there. We are stuck there. We are so god damn tangled up with these insurgents and rebels and fucking terrorists that we are stuck there for years. Bush can stand on a stupid air craft carrier and yell out ‘Mission Accomplished’ and fly a stupid jet as though we’ve captured Saddam and Iraq is the perfect country, but - ” She stopped, her heart thundering, her breathing heavy. A nearby couple were staring. She looked to Todd, her face burning with embarrassment.

Oh my God, he’s going to go running out of here at any second, she realized.

“I’m . . . sorry about that. I’m just – you can’t get me started on that subject without expecting me to get all sorts of worked up.”

He waved his hands. “It’s – it’s okay. You want to change the subject?”

She nodded. “Please.”

“What’s your major?”

“English, I guess. You?”

“Graphic Arts and Illustration.”

“You’re an artist?”

“Trying to be.” He picked his cup, which was now empty. “I actually, heh, am trying to launch webcomic, but I don’t know a damn thing about building a website.”

“My cousins run my uncles website for the convention center. I could ask them to help you.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, hook me up with their e-mail.”

“Sure.”

“So . . . English? Anything you can do with that?”

“I don’t know. I want to be a writer. I have a few blogs and I actually have my Associates Degree in Technical Communication.”

“What’s that?”

“Writing, like, for websites and catalogs and technical manuals. It’s . . . okay, I guess.”

Todd started ripping the overlap of the coffee sleeve off. “Where did you get your Associates?”
“Stark State. Every heard of it?”

“Nope.”

“That’s okay.”

“Big plans for tonight? Saturday night, y’know? Going out to party?”

“Nah. I gotta work tomorrow morning.”

“You?”

“Nope. I gotta work a few hours in the morning, and then I’m back up here around 12.” He slapped the table like a drum.

“Where do you work?”

“Manny’s Merchandise,” he said with very little enthusiasm. “It’s an outlet store.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there.”

“My Dad owns the chain.”

“Wow. I bet you’re pretty loaded, huh?”

“Haha, nope. Presidents of those places don’t make as much money as people think they do.”

“But enough to get an iPod, right?”

“Ha, yeah.”

“So what’s on your iPod?”

“A lot. Belle & Sebastian is frequent right now.”

“Who and who?”

“You’ve never heard of Belle & Sebastian? That’s – okay, that’s it. I’m officially making you a CD. And I’m giving you comics.”

She laughed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’ll give you some Ultimate X-Men and B&S and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. You’ll have it Tuesday morning.”

“Okay.” She laughed again. “Sounds good. But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What am I giving you?”

“I dunno.”

“I’ll think of something,” she said, eyes looking outside again. She sighed a little as the conversation dwindled into another awkward silence, though it was less uncomfortable this time. “I should head out soon.”

“Me too. I supposed to do some grocery shopping today.”

“I did mine yesterday. Is it just me or was the prospect of doing your own grocery shopping better than actually having to?”

“Agreed. It sucks.”

Kelly smiled broadly and stood up. “Welcome to adulthood, I guess.”

Todd joined her. “Thanks.”

The pair stepped outside.

“Tuesday?” he asked.

“Tuesday,” she answered.

Todd and Kelly walked to their cars and as they got in, there was a breeze that carried with it the first hints of autumn.

Just real quick . . .

I just wanted to thank some of you for posting comments on here and Facebook in regards to "Coffee-Stained Romance."

Don't be surprised if the next chapter or two don't reflect some of the suggestions. They were written/posted before I noticed some of the comments.

Keep up the constructive criticism! That's why I've started posting it!

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter Three: Passing By

Chapter Three: “Passing By”

“‘A Clean, Well-Lighted Place?’ What did we think of it?”

O’Reily eyed them all, looking at everyone and no one, picking their brains with his eyes. No one answered. No one had anything to say about it. He wasn’t exactly surprised. College students were useless before noon without some encouragement.

“Group up. You guys in the center, you guys in the back, and you guys over here. Three groups and discuss. Whoever gets it right, gets a quiz grade. How’s that?”

The groups gathered. Todd was pushed together with the fat weird guy who apparently today, ran out of deorant, the blonde texting ace, a guy with a shaved head that sat behind him, and that Kelly girl.

“Okay, so who actually read the story?” asked shaved head.

“I did,” Kelly answered.

“So did I,” fat weird guy added, his eyes veering towards Kelly’s chest.

“I didn’t get it,” sighed texting queen. “Some old guy was drunk and these two waiters were bitching about it.”

“Well,” Todd started, “I suppose we can go from there.”

“I thought it was significant that the two waiters were kinda bored with the old man,” fat weird guy said.

“I think it was more than that,” Kelly added. “Did anyone else pick up on the ages?” she asked meekly, as though every word from her lips was being judged.

“Yeah,” Todd answered. “The young waiter, the middle aged waiter, and the old guy. They got more and more miserable the older they got.”

“So what?” asked texting queen, glancing at her phone as it sat silently on the table.

“Haha! Old people are miserable, huh? That’s no big shocker. My Grandma’s a real bitch,” shaved head said crudely.

“Why is she so bitchy?” asked texting queen.

“I dunno. She’s old!”

Kelly rolled her eyes. Todd caught it and smiled. “Why are old people miserable?” he tried.

“Because they’re going to die,” fat weird guy said with a creepy grim tone.

“Which explains why the old guy was so miserable. And a drunk,” Kelly tossed in.

“He was deaf. That probably sucks a lot and he wants to die,” texting queen said. “That’s why he tried to kill himself in the beginning.”

“Just because someone is deaf doesn’t make them suicidal,” sighed Todd.

“Deaf and old,” she corrected him. “Geez.”

“I’m wondering if the light is important,” Todd said, trying to get things back on track.

“I’m sure it is,” Kelly replied.

“Of course it is!” fatty insisted. “It’s in the title, remember? ‘A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.’”

“Well, light represents life in a lot of ways,” said Kelly.

“Right. The young waiter, he’s going home - ”

“To plow his wife,” fatty interrupted. Shaved head snorted.

“Right. He’s going home. Married, you can bet his wife keeps things clean. And probably leaves the light on for him at night,” Todd stated.

“I don’t know about that, but I think you’re on the right page.” Kelly tapped her chin. “If you think about it, the middle-aged guy just wants to be someplace clean and well-lit, right? The café is clean and well-lit. It makes him happy. When he goes to that bar, though . . .”

“He loses his faith. It’s dark. He’s afraid.”

“Of death.”

“Exactly.”

Kelly smiled with satisfaction. “Okay. So let’s get this straight. The old man? The deaf one who is suicidal? He wanders off into the dark. Probably going die soon.”

“Yep!” Shaved head added. “Won’t hear a bus comin’ or something like that. WHAM!”

Fat weird-o laughed stupidly.

Kelly gave her head a dismissive shake. “All right, so yeah, the young one is heading home, probably to a clean house. He’s happy. Middle-aged, not so much. Not married, or he’d be going home to her. Instead, he leaves this lighted place and goes some place dark. He’s loses hope and faith.”

“Because why?” Fatty asked.

“Because he’s unhappy and he’s scared of death. I mean, you can have all the faith you want, but at the end of your life, faith or not, death is coming for you,” Todd summed up.

Kelly nodded with approval. “Yep!”

“So what does this mean? What’s the theme?”

“Life is light?” Kelly wondered. “I don’t know. There’s a lot of symbolism.”

“Stay in the light as long as possible,” texting queen said suddenly, sounding smart; as if she received a text message to the brain telling her what to say. “Live your life.”

“Sounds good,” Kelly admitted.

“I’m with ya,” Todd returned.

“Whatever,” Shaved head stated with no commitment to his answer.

“I’m fine with it.”

They were right, of course, thanks to texting queen’s burst of intelligence. The group broke up and they soon were discussing symbolism, which was then followed by a packet of information regarding their first paper.

***

Professor Kate Kaufman was born a woman, but may have preferred to have been born a guy. Aside from the flat chest, thin hips, and the ever-present less-than-subtle facial hair, there was also the matter of her dress and haircut. She wore clothes that were far too large for her stick-like body – often being a power suit or khakis that did nothing to improve her figure. Her hair was short and not cute; it was a bob cut, but trimmed thinly close to her scalp.

If Todd didn’t know any better, he would have assumed she was a lesbian. However, on the first day of class, her husband was in, helping her with a computer program. He looked like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo in human form. Part of him resisted the concept of the two of them in the sack, but his mind couldn’t help but imagine the horrified image.

“Oh Kate, darling, I love how manly you are!”

“I was thinking about buying a strap-on, dear. What do you think?”

“Zoinks! I love that idea!”

Todd shivered and focused on his graphic arts class work. The class itself was a waste of time to him, really. Todd didn’t know Photoshop that well, of course, but it seemed like Kaufman didn’t know it either. The entire course appeared to be them simply following instructions from the book. Cut this, paste it here, spin it, distort, put it here. What was the point of this? He didn’t care that he could one thing, then another. He wanted to know how it worked and when to use it and why he should use it.

As soon as class ended, Todd darted out of there. He made for his bike and rushed across campus. He left campus on the west side and rode over to Comic Land! Since Labor Day was Monday, New Comic Book Day was pushed back from Wednesday to Thursday. He locked up his bike and walked in.

Behind the counter were two gentlemen, one older, bearded, and wearing an Avengers t-shirt. The other was scrawny and a few years younger than his associate. He waved to Todd and fetched Todd’s comics from the row of short-boxes behind the counter.

Uncanny X-Men, Ultimate Spider-Man, JLA, and Fantastic Four. “Marvel heavy this week,” the scrawny guy, Chuck, had to say.

“That’s fine, actually,” Todd replied. “I’m in a Marvel mood.”

Chuck snorted a little. “Heh. Cool. What do you think of Disassembled?”

“Meh, it’s okay. JLA is really losing me, though.”

“That what you mean by being in a Marvel mood?”

“Yeah. Mark Waid’s FF run is genius. I mean, okay, well, the Fearsome Five story sucked, but this one with Galactus has been great. Plus . . . Ultimate Spider-Man is Ultimate Spider-Man. 100% quality.”

Chuck nodded. “No kidding. Oh hey, Rick wanted to talk to you.”

The bearded clerk – Rick – walked over. “Hey Todd, I wanted to know if you could give us a hand at the Epic Con in a few weeks.”

“The tenth through the twelfth, right?”

“Yes,” Rick said after a second of recall. “We just need someone to help handle customers. Can you get off work?”

“Can you pay me?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah. Plus store credit the next Wednesday as long as you don’t buy any trades.”

“I’m up for it.”

Todd paid up, tossed the comics in his bag, and headed back outside to his bike. He rode over to the Coffee Haven. Once there, he pulled off his back pack and entered. He ordered a Vanilla Latte, got it, then had a seat.

His hands moved swiftly through the stack of comics, creating a reading order. Fantastic Four first, then Ultimate Spider-Man, JLA, and then Uncanny X-Men at the bottom – if just to wash out the taste of JLA. Really, he should drop the book from his Pull List.

Just as Todd was about to open up Fantastic Four . . . when his eye caught the door opening up and Kelly walking in. She was dressed in all black, topped with a navy blue beret; two braided pigtails hung across her shoulders. Kelly didn’t even notice Todd as she went behind the counter.

Todd blinked and looked down at his comics. He felt the beginnings of embarrassment. What if she saw him reading comics? Would she go to the cliché? That he lives in his parents basement or is a super-nerd?

Before he knew it, Todd was putting the comics away and replacing them with his school sketchbook. He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t. He had always prided himself of not being ashamed of his love of comics . . . but here he was, scared this girl he barely even knew would make fun of him for it or think less of him.

Todd did his sketch homework, which was to draw and shade an inanimate object. He did so with the mug in front of him. It wasn’t hard work, really. He was quite good, despite how much he put himself down and how much he sometimes felt he couldn’t figure out.

With the homework finished, Todd decided to return the mug to the counter. Kelly saw him and offered him a smile.

“Oh hey,” she said, her cute twirled hair swishing around her face as she came up from behind the counter. “What’s up?”

“Not much. You?” he asked, putting the mug on the counter.

“Oh, just working.”

“Oh yeah? You work here?” STUPID!

Kelly giggled a little. “Yep, I guess so. Been here about two months.”

“Really? I come in here all the time. I guess I just never noticed or just haven’t been here at the right time.”

She smiled and nodded.

“Uh, well, it’s clean, well-lighted place,” Todd said then, trying to be sly and witty.

She giggled again. “Well, I hope so. I have to clean it up enough times, y’know?”

“Yeah. Okay, well, see ya.”

“Tuesday!”

“Yeah, Tuesday.”

He grabbed his bag and took off, wanting to smash his head in for the ‘You work here?’ comment. What an idiot . . .

***

Kelly returned to her apartment shortly after 11:30 that night. She unloaded her backpack. Tomorrow she would have to work in the morning, but after that, she was done for the day. No work, no school, just the afternoon to bum around campus or whatever. Kelly pulled out her packet from Democrats At Maxwell. Included in this packet were two Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers, a list of scheduled events, a Kerry/Edwards pin, a ‘Somewhere in Texas, A Village Is Missing Its Idiot’ pin, and a contact sheet. She smiled, but wondered if she was really making any sort of difference here. Kelly was excited to be a part of this and loved bashing Bush, but . . .

It didn’t bring her brother home from Iraq. The headlines mentioned more deaths in that far away land, but it didn’t indicate that Josh was among them. She didn’t even know where in Iraq he was. It pained her, not knowing. The whole fucking war pained her.

She pulled her hair out of the braids, leaving it a wavy, curly mess. There was no point in messing with it now. Kelly put it back in a ponytail and changed into her pajamas. She turned on the television just to drown out the all-too-real imaginings of hearing about Josh’s death.

Some old episode of Friends helped with that. It got her laughing, flushing away dark and frightening thoughts. Got her mind away from all this mess.

After Friends was over, she grabbed her latest read (Stephen King’s Everything’s Eventual) and went to bed. She read through some of one of the short stories in said book. Kelly prayed routinely, but was sure to emphasize Josh’s safety. Shortly afterward, Kelly fell asleep, her hair lying around her face like pinwheel.

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter Two: Tuesday

Chapter Two: Wednesday

Kelly May Shaw awoke with a start. She was having a dream that involved worms and garbage cans and something about a pillow. It didn’t matter; her alarm was about to go off at any second. She turned from her bed and stood up slowly. Kelly arched her back, stretching it after that hard sleep, the dream fading quickly.

She walked into the bathroom, did her business and hopped into the shower. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged in her bathrobe, her hair up in a towel that reminded her of a turban. When she was a kid, she would invite the neighbor boy over and made him wear a towel-turban and pretended he was Punjab from ‘Annie.’ Part of her wondered if that was offense in these less than innocent days.

Kelly grabbed the paper, eyes briefly glancing over the headlines. Two suicide attacks in Israel kills 16 and injures 60; there’s also the WTO issuing impositions on sanctions on the US for global trade law violations. She glanced over some of the other headlines, then grabbed her completed contact form for Democrats At Maxwell and slipped it into her backpack.

Kelly’s expert hands crafted a homemade Vanilla Mocha Espresso, which she sipped as she reviewed her campus map and class schedule.

Her hair dried, Kelly pulled on a yellow sleeveless top and a brown skirt. She put on a little jewelry here and there (a bracelet from her Mom, a necklace she picked up over the summer, a pair earrings) and left her apartment. In her hand was her new schedule, since her last one was kicked out of Maxwell University’s system because her father’s payment was just a wee bit late.

Writing for Web was first. It was a class she dreaded; nothing but some 40-something Professor trying to be web-savvy and hip. He didn’t even know what LOL or BRB meant.

Kelly walked to the parking lot beside her complex and leapt into her Jeep Liberty. She drove off to her first class, which was clear on the other side of campus. She lived right across the street, but on the north side. Writing for Web and Mass Communication were both located in the O’Brien and Surber Buildings to the south. Her third class for the day, Interactive Media, was near the center of campus – White Building.

This was Kelly’s first semester here at Maxwell State University, having completed two years in Technical Communication at Stark State. She was able to transfer seamlessly without losing a single credit. However, there were some small issues. Kelly was 23 and a few of her classes had kids fresh outta high school in them. The small gap was enough to surprise her. She was embarrassed to talk about her semesters off or why it took her so long to get her Associates Degree.

Kelly tried not to give a damn; tried not to care. But she did. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help but wonder what people thought of her. Did they maybe think she was stupid for having to be in school for so long? Did they think she came from a poor family?

She assured herself that they probably didn’t care at all. What did it matter? What did it matter what anyone thought of her?

Kelly turned on NPR and finished her drive to class.

She actually parked at the White Building, and then walked to Surber. People passed her left and right, but she didn’t pay them any attention. White Building made up three buildings that circled the Campus Center, where the administrative offices were. This was all the fairly new while Surber and O’Brien were the older buildings. O’Brien actually used to the Campus Center until 1959. This was all detailed to her in the visitation packet and the new student information book that now sat in her living room.

Her first class was as boring as she expected it. Writing for Web was one class that she had hoped would have gotten re-scheduled and she had gotten a new instructor during the whole new schedule fiasco. No such luck, of course. Of course.

Mass Communication was next and it was located across from Surber in O’Brien. Not only was it the Journalism building, it also held headquarters to the ‘To The Max’ newsmagazine and the ‘Daily Maxwell,’ the daily Maxwell University newspaper. Mass Communication was a far more interesting class and while they were still dealing with things Kelly learned back at Stark State, she was nonetheless interested in what this school had to say about them.

Interactive Media had surprised her. A name like that and there were no computers to be found. The Professor was looked to be in her fifties, but as she spoke and explained about the relationship between culture and media, Kelly could tell right off the bat that she was smarter than the Writing for Web Prof.

Kelly left the White Building and got back into her jeep. It was warm, the summer still stretching hard into September. She returned home and couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a hypocrite. Kelly loved to think of herself as green – very environmentally conscience. And yet, here she was, running her little gas-guzzling jeep to work and school when they were really not that far away. Walking distance, really.

“I gotta blog about this,” she mumbled as her apartment door was swung open. She had an hour and a half before work.

The living room was made of old furniture that didn’t match each other (a blue plaid couch, a red chair, and fake wood TV stand). Movie posters sat framed on the walls. The kitchen was comprised of coffee memorabilia – signs made to look old and worn advertising coffees and teas. A few coffee books sat on the counter between the microwave and the coffee-maker.

She was a coffee addict.

Kelly got changed into something less dressy. Jeans, black shirt, hair in a ponytail. She sat down and got on-line and started typing away in her LiveJournal:

Second day of “new” classes. Wasn’t too bad. I still hate my Writing for Web Professor, though. He’s just so pompous and arrogant and, well, really has no idea what he’s talking about. I was really thinking ‘Man! How progressive! Writing for Web! Awesome!’ And instead, I get Professor Mallory, who I think helped create the Internet, but hasn’t spent anytime on it.

Loved Interactive Media, though. Same with Mass Communication.

I’m officially launching my ‘Kelly Goes Green’ initiative tomorrow. I need to stop being such a hypocrite and just start walking. Unless it rains. Also, I bought these canvas shopping bags at the grocery store last week. I am going to use them on Saturday. I may look like a dork

using them, but damn it, I gotta start somewhere, right?

Right.

Okay, well, gotta head off to work soon. Coffee won’t make itself!

Kelly posted, checked her friends entries, then put up a new Away Message and headed on out. She did actually drive her jeep, since it would be late when she’d get off and she didn’t know how long it would take her to get to work by foot.

She arrived at Coffee Haven.

“Hey Kelly,” Danielle greeted behind the counter. She was the one that got Kelly the job.

“Hey,” Kelly replied and slipped through the door that led to the side-room off the counter. “Busy today?”

“Not very. How was class?”

“Not too bad.”

Kelly worked at Coffee Haven for two months now, having moved here in July.

While Danielle handled the counter, getting drink orders for Chocolate Mocha Carmel Turtles and Espresso Delights and Coffee Launchers, Kelly filled the large coffee containers that sat on the shelf behind them, under a sign that said: ‘COFFEES OF THE WORLD!’ sitting between two hand-drawn pictures of the Earth. Ten hand-pump canisters filled with Kenya AA, Mocha Java, Costa Rican Terrazu, Sumatra, French Roast, Italian Roast, Columbian Supremmo, Kona Island Blend, Jamaican Blue Mountain, and Guatemala Estate were soon warm and ready to pour.

The rest of the work day was pretty easy and usually just involved making a few drinks and here and there. Jack, the manager showed up an hour later, a friendly guy in his mid-thirties. A bit of a hippie and beat-nick. Coffee-lover.

By the time 11:00 PM rolled around, Kelly was ready to go. The last group of coffee-drinkers were gently pushed out the door and Kelly wiped down the tables.

She returned home, opened her Lit book and started reading Ernest Hemmingway’s ‘A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.’

Coffee-Stained Romance, Chapter One: Tuesday

Note: Todd and Kelly are the property of Kevin Woodside and Tricia Clem. Use of these characters is not permitted. For further details, please contact Kevin Woodside at the e-mail address provided. The story may not be re-posted anywhere else with the permission of Kevin Woodside.

Author's Note: I've been working on this story on and off for a while now. My hope was to publish it, but to be honest, I don't know how good it is . . . so I'm putting it here, on my LJ, and on my DA page. For now. Please feel free to comment and let me know what you think.

Chapter One: Tuesday

The alarm thundered and roared, red and loud, echoing through the finished basement of the townhouse. Todd turned in his bed and with an instinct ingrained since the 6^th grade, pressed the bar neatly labeled ‘SNOOZE.’ His hand dropped over to the side of the bed and Todd’s eyes stared mercilessly at the 7:30 AM and calculated in his head just how long it would take him to get up, take a shower, get dressed, and make it to class on time. By his best estimates, he could risk laying in bed for ten more minutes.

And he did.

Nine and a half minutes later, the alarm came again and Todd resisted the urge to depress the snooze bar and instead rose up slowly from a tangle of sheets and blankets. He staggered uneasily to the stairs and ventured into the kitchen. His roommates weren’t up yet, which was kind of a blessing. It meant he could get to the shower before they used up the hot water.

Todd started the coffee maker, then went upstairs to shower. He returned to the kitchen some ten minutes later, clean as a whistle and dressed. He poured his coffee into a mug and slipped back downstairs into his basement bedroom. He had gotten lucky with this room. Despite it being freezing cold in the winter, it was still the biggest out of the three.

Todd gathered together the materials he would need for the day – only after double-checking his schedule. It was only the second week of school. Two classes today – Composition and Literature first, followed by Graphic Design, with forty-five minutes in between.

He began to dig through a pile of sketchbooks until he found his Comp and Lit book. He tossed it into his backpack and it was soon joined by a college ruled notebook and his Graphic Design sketchbook.

Todd turned to his computer and realized that he had left Photoshop on all night. A character sketch he had scanned in yesterday was still open. He closed Photoshop and changed his Away Message. He then finished his coffee, trotted upstairs, and out the back door. His bike was waiting for him.

His friend Jason in Life Drawing had proclaimed Todd’s riding of the bike as ‘uber-lame,’ but Todd didn’t care. It was the only exercise he got. Before starting off, Todd pulled out his iPod, put in the earplugs, and started playing Belle and Sebastian. Best get the day off to good start, right? And what better way than with as great a song as ‘Lazy Line Painter Jane.’

The air was warm and the green leaved trees were defiantly resisting the name ‘Fall Semester.’ Summer still held a firm grip in the early weeks of September, though Todd acknowledged that summer to him was over. It was the day after Labor Day and he considered that the end of summer. He and his buddies celebrated by getting as drunk as they could.

Todd’s bike took him to the end of Beech Hill Road, where it dead-ended with Maxwell. He turned onto Maxwell Road, eyes carefully looking out for pedestrians and cars. It didn’t take very long for him to get onto campus and to follow the campus roads to the Surber Building. By the time he arrived and locked up his bike, the iPod had shuffled over to Belle and Sebastian’s ‘Photo Jenny.’ He popped out the earplugs and arrived in his first floor classroom.

It was a pretty well-packed class and Todd was forced to sit in the middle between a heavy-set weird guy he had a conversation with last semester and a blonde chick that spent more time texting than talking. Todd wasn’t quite early, but there were still people coming in. He glanced up at them every now and then, as did everyone else that was already sitting, thinking that the Professor would step in instead of a student.

At 8:31 AM, the door opened and in walked Professor O’Reily, wearing slacks and a navy blue sweater vest. He was a round man with a salt and pepper beard and a scalp that was overcoming his graying hair. He carried with him a thermos mug of coffee and a stack of books and papers.

“Good morning,” he greeted. The morning class gave a pathetic half-hearted reply. O’Reily sipped his coffee and opened up his attendance book.

The door swung open and a late-comer showed up. It was a girl with chestnut-mocha hair and big brown eyes. She looked uncomfortable and uncertain. Todd looked to her, his eyes automatically drinking in her appearance. Her face was lean and with a nose that turned up just a bit; her chest was medium, but on the larger end of that scale. The girl’s waist was trim and her hips were average. Her legs were not particularly long, but not exactly short. Todd tore his eyes from her, hoping she wouldn’t notice or be offended by his checking her out.

“Hello,” she said, producing an unevenly folded piece of paper from her pocket. “I’m joining your class.”

O’Reily raised a shaggy eyebrow. “You are?”

“Yes, there was an . . . issue with my schedule and they had to re-assign my classes.”

She handed over the paper and he looked hard at it. “Kelly Shaw?”

“Yeah.”

He gave it back to her. “Welcome. Do you have your book?” She nodded. He waved to the rows of tables and chairs. “Take a seat then, Miss Shaw.”

She looked around for an empty chair and found one in the back of the classroom. Todd glanced back at her as a she sat down. This time, she noticed and looked back. He looked away quickly and turned his attention to O’Reily. O’Reily went through his roster and opened his book.

“John Updike’s A&P. What did we think? Mister - ” Glancing at the roster. “- Beckley.”

“Uh, oh,” Todd attempted, sitting up. “I liked it.”

“Good. And why is that?”

“I, uh, used to work at a grocery store and I remember hot chicks coming in and creating a subtle ruckus all the time.”

O’Reily smiled and there were a few sleepy giggles from the class. “‘Subtle ruckus?’” questioned O’Reily with an amused smile. “I like that description. What would you say the story was about?”

“Me?”

“Sure.”

“Uh . . . quitting your job?”

O’Reily looked away from Todd. “Nope. Sorry. Anyone else? Melissa, right?”

The class went on from there. They discussed the theme of A&P, which even by the end of the class, wasn’t exactly clear to Todd, though he had a feeling that even if he had a chance to fully garner the theme of A&P, it would have only stuck around in his head until the exam, then it would be replaced by whatever their next chapter would be shoved into his brain.

Todd glanced at Kelly, but she was long gone before he had a chance to take another long look at her. He popped her earplugs back in, put on something more exciting than Belle and Sebastian (which would be Spoon) and rode off on his bike to Graphic Design.

After a while there, being instructed by Professor Kate Kaufman, Todd headed back to the townhouse, his education finished for the day.

Todd tossed his bag onto the couch of the living room and walked into the kitchen. The good thing about Tuesdays was that after twelve noon, he had the whole day to piss away. Thinking logically, that meant he could do some homework, reading, whatever. But this afternoon, Todd had greater things on his mind. He had his webcomic.

Or, really, what he hoped would someday become his webcomic.

A little over eight months ago, Todd felt inspired by the works of other people and he gathered together ideas from his past. Characters that never found their right place in old D&D campaigns. A sketch of a few random characters. A beautiful painting of a castle he had done back his senior year. Todd poured his creative energy into bringing these things together, to pulling them to a center – to create a basis for which he could launch a comic strip onto the Internet.

But there were problems. The first one being that he had very little to no website building knowledge. He had friends that did, but honestly, he felt like he’d be using them. There were ways around that, of course, and that’s by posting on LiveJournal or DeviantArt or even Blogger. But what webcomic great got their start that way?

The second problem was that he didn’t have the skills he felt he needed to do the job. Basically meaning, his lack of computer-related graphic design programs. He could operate Photoshop enough to clean up his artwork, but it was making it perfect with Photoshop and other programs that eluded Todd.

Finally, and more importantly, was that Todd just couldn’t get the story right. Every time he tried to write a script, it felt wrong. Every time he tried to draw a panel for which his characters to exist, it seemed to just fall apart. Part of him dreamed of this being his epic, his Lord of the Rings, his Harry Potter, and The Chronicles of Narnia. He wanted it to be grand and perfect. Getting it there . . . was proving to be impossible.

Todd poked around a character design on Photoshop until he grew tired of looking at a screen.

Coffee.

Coffee would make him focus and fill him with energy. Getting out of the townhouse from which he had lived for about a year would help too; freshen up the mind. Todd grabbed his satchel and placed within a few sketchbooks, some pencils and erasers, and a few other doodads. He then again took his bike back down Beech Hill Road, this time turning left onto Maxwell. Within moments, he was parking his bike in front of Coffee Haven.

“Hey! Todd!” yelped an overweight kid about Todd’s age from across the room.

“Hello Greg.”

Greg Ashmore was a pain in the ass. Todd liked him okay and was about the only other person he knew that read the same comics Todd did . . . but he took a bizarre pleasure in ranting, raving, and generally over-thinking each and every one of them. As Todd reluctantly walked over, he saw that Greg was in the middle of re-reading last week’s load.

Coffee Haven was what one would expect from a coffeehouse. College-aged hipsters hanging around in the middle of the afternoon, drinking their tea and coffee. It had the expected smell of roasted coffee beans and the sound of clattering dishes mixed with conversation and the roaring of a faucet behind the counter. An espresso machine blared every now and then. The local NPR station (WKMX) played on beneath these sounds, a marathon of classical music that Todd appreciated, even if he wasn’t the biggest fan.

After getting a Café Mocha (cheap, common, but had the certain unique qualities that only Coffee Haven’s baristas offered), Todd took a seat across from Greg. Reluctantly.

“So, what’s up, bro?” asked Greg.

“Nothing much.”

“Is that your sketchbook?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see it?”

“Not today, buddy,” Todd answered through an insincere smile. “Not until I’ve got some good stuff to show for it.”

“Oh. Okay. So, hey, did you read Avengers last week?”

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t it just awful? What is Marvel thinking putting Brian Michael Bendis on Avengers? This Disassembled stuff is crazy.”

“It’s supposed to be. But yeah, Bendis is an odd choice. It’s not terrible though. The art’s nice and the script seems pretty decent.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “The characterization is all off! You ask me, this is just another step towards Marvel replacing their mainstream universe with the ultimate one.”

Todd groaned internally. Greg was obsessed with the idea that Marvel Entertainment was going to replace the universe of characters that had existed since the 1930s and in which the majority of their titles took place with the recently-launched and more accessible Ultimate line. This was in spite of the fact that Marvel’s editorial had claimed this was never going to happen and had never been planned to happen.

“I just hope when it happens, they do it right.”

Todd nodded absently. “Well, they’ll probably do it how they want to. It’s their characters and their universes. But I still don’t think they’re going to.”

Greg half-ignored him. “They better get Grant Morrison back. He’s the only one who could write it.”

“I really don’t think it’s going to happen, Greg. Y’know, you seem so taken with the idea, why don’t you write a fanfic?”

Greg laughed – it was more of a snort, really. “Fanfiction is for losers, Todd.”

Todd shrugged, hoping that Greg would never find that file folder in Todd’s computer labeled ‘Pirates of the Caribbean.’ It contained seven short stories written by Todd featuring Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, and Elizabeth Swan. God, he could never live that down.

The two sat there for half-an-hour, Todd hoping for the moment Greg would look at the watch on his chubby wrist, heave a sigh, slip his comics in his book bag, and leave. Every single second Todd spent with Greg just made him hate Greg a little more. He was so nitpicky, so angry had the medium that he claimed to love so much. Todd had once asked him why he just didn’t stop collecting the books that pissed him off, but Greg snorted/laughed and told him that he was a ‘completist’ – that he needed to have a complete run of Avengers from 200 on up.

At long last, Greg left. Todd sighed and as Greg walked out the door, he pulled out his sketchbook. He was dimly aware of others coming and going from Coffee Haven, but he made himself focus in on the sketch.

“Need some more coffee,” he proclaimed after dismissing a disproportioned arm.

The girl behind the counter was tall and pretty, with her jet-black hair yanked back in a tight ponytail that went through the hole in the back of her ‘Coffee Haven’ baseball cap. He ordered another Café Mocha after a short internal debate as to whether or not he wanted something cheaper.

He was back at it, sketching, moving his pencil with decidedly jerky motions, creating three lines for the forearm – the three lines would later be inked into one. Todd was drawing the hero of his little epic, Barratt, son of Mothran of the kingdom of Benton. After a good fifteen minutes, the sketch was complete and he was satisfied with it, if not bothered by the way the feet looked and the oversized chin.

He worked for the next half-hour, forty-five minutes, sketching two more characters and drawing the Palace of Light. After he finished that, he closed his sketchbook, tossed it in his bag, pulled the strap over his shoulder and walked on out.

Not too much later, Todd returned to the townhouse on Beech Hill. Sitting in the living room was Lorrel, Todd’s roommate and best friend. Lorrel was just a little on the chubby side with very light blonde hair.

The living room was perpetually cluttered. Two huge couches sat on either side of a TV that had at least three game systems, a sound system, and a DVD player hooked up to it. Star Wars posters lined the walls, broken only by a Lord of the Rings poster (much to the agitation of David, their other roommate, who hated the Lord of the Rings movies) and a Super Smash Bros. poster.

“Word up, hommie,” Lorrel greeted in a tone made it so evident that his words were sarcastic.

“Hey,” Todd responded and crashed onto one of the couches. “What are you watching?”

“Some stupid show about rich people. Nothing else on.”

“Gotcha. How’s your stomach?”

“Fine. I’ve recovered well.”

“Good to hear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you puke so much.”

“Fuck you, man.”

“Haha.”

Lorrel got up. “Ugh. I’ve got class here.”

“Have a blast.”

Lorrel grabbed his back-pack from the end of the couch, grabbed his keys, and headed out. Todd gave the show about two minutes to lock in his interest, then turned off the television, picked up his bag and went downstairs in the hope of creating . . . something.