[SU x MSA] A Cup of Coffee

Every day at about 2:30 in the afternoon, Lapis walked from the park to the YMCA on 49th (for a shower) to the Sunshine Café on 36th (for coffee). On the way she counted—counted her steps, counted how much money she had to spend (usually enough for said coffee, sometimes a pastry), and how much time had passed.

Eight years was a long time to be trapped under the ocean, and another three years to travel from one coast to the other. Sometimes she wondered if she should have stayed—but she never thought about it long, because by the time she started to have those sorts of thoughts, she was at the café door. From here, the ritual became more complex. Find a small table—off to the side, out of the line of sight of most of the other customers, in the same section if she could help it.

The section she favored had a nice server—an older human male, soft spoken and wide pale gray eyes whose name tag read in plain block type Elliot. Best of all, he didn't seem to be judging her too harshly. God knew there was plenty enough to judge—even with showering at the Y, living on the street surely showed. Maybe it was that, maybe it was the fact that she had maybe two outfits all together, not counting the clothing she projected for herself, and what she did have was shabby and threadbare. Maybe there was something in her face—all she knew was that the fact that she was homeless showed, and that despite that, the server in whose section she always sat never made her feel uncomfortable for it.

All he did was approach with a smile, ask her order (“Black with a cube of sugar?”), leave to deliver the order, and return within five minutes to deposit it in front of her. From time to time he’d stop by on his way to another table, ask if she wanted a refill (she never did). For the most part, she was gone before he came on his second pass of the section. The only sign she was there was her money on the table for the coffee (plus a little extra for a tip, which was one of the stranger human customs she’d learned) and her cup meticulously dried out with the paper napkins from the tabletop dispenser.

At first he'd tried to engage her in small talk—her name, where she was from. Little things—little things to him, but things that could jeopardize her safety or worse if she spoke too freely. After a few answers of “Lapis,” “out of town” and “hmm,” he gave up. Point in his favor, she supposed as she sat down in one of her usual tables.

Speaking of—“The usual?” Elliot asks as he passes by the table, an empty coffee pot in his hand.

Lapis nodded once in reply, watching him move behind the counter. It was slow, so there were few patrons in the café. So much the better, she tried to tell herself. The fewer people saw her, the less chance word of her presence in this city would get back to anyone who could hurt her. Easy. This cafe was safe—the only person she ever spoke to was the server Elliot, and he was hardly going to sell her out—

“Hey there.”

Of course, there was also Elliot’s son, Arthur.

Lapis looked up from the edge of the paper placemat. “Hi.”

Arthur smiled, the expression matching his brightly colored hair and clothes. “Mind if I have a seat?” He shrugged one shoulder, making the messenger bag hanging there shift slightly. “My classes don’t start for another hour.”

Lapis nodded once. Arthur was… a curious exception. Elliot’s son, about the same age Lapis projected for herself. He was friendly, if a little overly anxious from time to time, and could be nice company—for the time being, he seemed like a good fit in the “Safe to Trust” column.

He thanked her as he sat across from her, then settled in with a notebook and a heavy textbook. For several minutes, he pored over them, chewing on the end of his pen and pausing to greet his father when he returned with Lapis’ small order.

After a moment, he set the pen down and leaned across the table. “Hey, uh… Can I ask a question?”

Suddenly, despite the heat of the coffee, the world felt very, very cold. “What is it?” she replied, her eyes fixed on the table.

“This is gonna be kinda weird,” he started, “but… Is there anything you need?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, lifting her head.

“It’s like—“ Arthur paused to rub the back of his neck. “Dad and I see you in here all the time and… we were just wondering if there was anything we could do to help you. If you needed it, I mean.”

If she needed it? Lapis needed a lot of things—but how could anyone expect her to accept those things from someone she didn't even know apart from supplying her a cup of coffee every day and his son? “I’m fine, but thanks.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning back out of her space (for which Lapis was eternally if not verbally grateful).

“Look—“ She met his eyes, her expression level and devoid of emotion— “I appreciate the offer. I really do—I just got out of hell, though, okay? I want to be responsible for myself.” That said, she deposited her payment on the table and stood. “For now a cup of coffee is all you and your dad can do for me.”