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climbing vines of green overtake the right hand side of the enternace, coating the fencing and post underneath it. dark shades of pink and purple petunias hang heavy from a golden hook on either side of the double-doors, spilling over the bucket that contains them.
we step inside the small interior of the cafe, the pastel yellow shade of the vertically paneled walls catching my attention immediately. the minimal seating provided is completely full, the large window above the peoples heads feeding the potted plants that sit within the blue window sill.
a black chalkboard behind the cashiers head displays their entire menu, and a seperate one on the left hand wall lists this week's specials. a giant class case spanning four cakes wide, or five pies, takes up half the limited space inside. but worthily. every single baked good inside-(including but not limited to) danishes, donuts, cookies, fruit bars, muffins, cakes, cinnamon rolls, bread, and pies- looks delicious.
the walls are covered with different paintings of different scenes, but all mimic the style of the renaissance era. the surface area above the cabinets behind the white counters are full of artificial flowering plants- the darkened area unable to provide sufficient light for any real living organism.
"woah." craig says, studying the room just as i do. i assume he's also overwhelmed with the intricate details of the area around us, it's hard to believe anyone wouldn't be. there is so much to look at! "what are you going to get?" he asks me, tearing his eyes away from the decorations to look at me. "a blueberry muffin. and a lemonade." i add.
we stand in line, but with the quick, mechanical, movements of the woman working the cash register and the man at the baking display, we don't have to wait for long.
"hello! lovely day isn't it? what can we get you today- our specials are on the board to your left. our seasonal menu is behind us. would you like to wait for indoor seating, or sit outside?" when she pauses her monologue to smile (and probably breathe) she reveals a set of pink banded-braces.
her right eye twitches slightly as craig looks over the menu. "we have smoothies, sandwiches, and just about any breakfast item you could dream of." she nervously runs her hands along her long, braided, auburn hair. she looks behind us towards the growing line. "two blueberry muffins and two medium lemonades please. oh; and we'll eat outside." he orders for the both of us, stealing my order out of his own lack of inspiration. "great! bennett?" she calls out to the red-haired male working the other half of the long counter at the baked goods section.
looking closer now, they might be twins. their red hair is the exact same shade, and they look to be about the same age. they couldn't be any older than me and craig are, but maybe it's just the girls youthful appearance that tips me off.
"heard." he reaches a gloved hand into the glass casing, pulling out two muffins and wrapping their lower half in a brown paper. he slides them along to her as she turns around to fill two plastic cups with lemonade. it must be a popular choice in the summer, because a giant dispenser with bobbing halves of lemon is readily available to her at all times.
"perfect! here you guys go. 17.88." she drops our two muffins into a dark blue oval basket, handing them to us as she sets up our payment. she sets the drinks directly next to it. craig swipes his card, handing the drinks to me as she processes the order. "next!" she dismisses us, and we walk outside through the crowded interior.
the seating outdoors is marginally less full, but at least we can find a table to eat at without wrestling someone for one. an open table for two near the street is clear, and we quickly sit down before any other hungry brunch vultures can steal it.
"couldn't think of your own order?" i tease, shaking the ice around in my drink. a small vase holds a single, weepy flower in the center of our table. "whatever." he sits down across from me, and i hand him his lemonade. he places the muffin basket next to the sad flower.
"actually, i don't think i like blueberries." he says, following his first bite of the blueberry muffin he ordered. "why would you order a blueberry muffin then?" he thinks for a moment. "i didn't know what else to get." he takes a second bite.
"well. what do you like?" i ask, half-joking, before biting my own blueberry muffin. personally, i like blueberries just fine. "space. my guinea pigs." he lists off, staring at me blankly. "everyone knows that. tell me something no one else knows."
he averts his eyes from me to focus on his muffin. and hopefully my question too. "i think everybody already knows everything about me before i even do." he speaks earnestly. he sips his lemonade, "this is pretty good."
"your turn." he puts down his drink and looks at me expectantly. he always speaks like everything is so obvious. "for?"
his lips slightly curl downwards in amusement,"tell me something no one else knows." his repeated words make me understand the depth that the question holds, hidden through small talk. what is something about me, that no one else knows? everything- and nothing really.
something no one else knows. i have no idea what to do with my life.
something no one else knows. i still watch terrence and phillip reruns sometimes.
something no one else knows. nothing scares me more than my own future.
something no one else knows. "probably that i had fun on our date today."
he rolls his eyes and smiles, apparently expecting a different answer. "i already knew that." and how would he know how much fun i've had today? what if i thought it was a grueling adventure and super lame?
"really." i say unconvinced.
"yes, 'really'. you've been smiling the entire day." i catch myself about to smile again, but present a stoic face as i look through him. "whatever." mimicking his previous tone, shrugging as he so constantly does.
an even harder question to answer, did he have fun today? if i had to guess, i'd bet he did. he's basically been smiling the entire day too, but i still can't decipher if he would call our outing a date. our itinerary (a garden and lunch) is certainly date worthy, but anything could really be considered date-activities. holding hands is almost exclusively a date-activity though. so.
"i've got another question," he prompts. now it's my turn to wait expectantly; but my attention is cut-off as a familiar head of blonde hair appears in the distance, coming closer in my view.
craig notices my diverted eyes, turning his head to face the interruption. kenny.
"hey y/n.. and craig. you guys on a date without me?" he playfully greets, flashing craig a wide smile when he notices his unimpressed expression at his arrival.
"i call next." what a casual way of asking someone out on a date; interesting. anyway, what's he even doing here? it's strange to assume he would take an entire boat ride to have lunch, but isn't that a boiled down version of what me and craig just did?
craig has the same thought as me, "why're you here?" he asks. "you know- i could ask you the same thing! since when did you two.. interact." kenny darts his steel blue eyes between us, but rests them on mine and ultimately directs all of his words towards me. he doesn't once look craig in the eyes. on the opposite end of the eye contact spectrum, i worry he might hypnotize me with the intensity of which he stares at me.
"why do you care?" craig uses one hand to push back the few wavy strands of his dark hair that fall into his vision as he looks straight through me. his tone is flat and irritated, expressed also through his visible frown.
"i don't!" kenny doesn't acknlowedge craig, deciding instead to rest his arms on the fence that surround the perimeter of the cafe and lean closer towards me. "you look nice today."
i appreciate his compliment, but i take everything kenny says with a grain of salt considering that he uses the same peacock spiel on every person he meets. he parades around confidently, flashing bright smiles and showing off every inch of himself possible; throwing out flattering remarks like candy to every passing human. age, gender, and status don't ever deter him- but i will say, he seems to prefer any living organism with nice tits.
"thanks kenny." i respond out of simple politeness.
the clear voice of ella fitzgerald through the speakers fades away, the song switching into the yearning tune of lesley gore and 'misty'.
kenny straightens his posture and pouts as he withdraws from me. "well. i'd love to stay, but i have to attend to other things. you understand of course, sweetness?" he jokes, holding his hand over his heart in an excessive gesture of a goodbye.
before running off, he bows to craig, and grins at me; pissing craig off twice in quick succession.
i watch him leave, his unique radiant quality dimming and becoming invisible in the swarm of people that swallow the sidewalks of the coastal town. he joins the crowd of unrecognizable faces, and i wonder if i knew any of them how i knew kenny, if i would be able to point them out from the distance i currently hold to them.
probably not.
when i turn my focus back onto my (debatable) date, he looks aggravated. prickly. craig has never particularly gotten along with kenny. he tends to stay away from stan and kyle as much as possible aswell, but strangely cartman is a neutral source of annoyance to him. not any more-so than the average person is.
"what was your question, again?" i remember him almost asking me something before kenny arrived, but paused at his arrival.
he calms himself, reinstating his naturally relaxed appearance as we begin our conversation again. without kenny.
he sips his lemonade. "doesn't matter. i have a better one." he ends his sentence on a cliff hanger, drawing me in.
"can i see you again?" he asks. "when?" his buildup to his offer makes me smile, along with his odd- but sweet- way of asking me out again. i've never had anyone ask me on a second date while not even finished with the first. usually men wait about a week, ignoring me the seven days inbetween.
"tomorrow?"
"it's a date." i respond.
"great."
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