Lunch Date Surprise

Trevor panted in front of the bathroom mirror, clutching his face. A wet trickle of blood moved through his fingertips and down his hand. He cursed and hastily reached for some toilet paper. He slapped it on, wincing but refusing to show it outwardly. He checked his phone for the thirtieth time that morning, staring at the last messages:

Can’t wait! I’ll see you tomorrow at 4.

And Trevor’s reply: 

Yep. It’s a date then. 

But it was a date...right? They had met on Tinder. That is a dating app. For dating. Not for hanging out. But he should look semi-nice. But they were going to Mary’s Cafe. What do men wear on dates? Nice things...right? He turned his phone over and sighed, surveying the damage his razor had done.

Trevor slowly gripped the blackout curtains, gently pulling just enough for his eyes to peek through. He grimaced at the sun and moved away, preparing his outfit: a long sleeved white henley, long tan corduroy pants, brown boots...and, well, the usual.

The neon lettering of the cafe didn’t sparkle or glow like at night. Trevor never dared travel there during the day for, well, obvious reasons. He ensured he arrived early to make sure he could find a good table suitable for romance. Or what he hoped was romance. Because this was a date. Right? Yes. Right. Tinder is for dating. It was definitely a date. Maybe. Probably.

 It was strongly implied.

As he reached for the door, he felt something tap his glove. His eyes traced the face of an angel. Wait, not an angel. As if in slow motion, the creature peered down at him and Trevor’s eyes sparkled with recognition. The angel’s Tinder profile failed to express several important attributes: first, on his curly blonde head, one small curl boyishly touched his forehead. Second, next to Trevor, he resembled a Dutch giant. And lastly, light tan lines traced his forearms and neck. His white breezy button up and casual black shorts only further illuminated the reality that this man spent more time in a wetsuit than Trevor ever spent wearing a work suit. Trevor smiled at his angelic date, expectantly. His date quite literally yelped.

“Sorry,” the cherub mumbled, moving quickly inside. Trevor followed at his heels. Was the accidental hand-brush creepy? Too forward? He brushed off those thoughts and took off his hat and sunglasses once inside, as gentlemen do. Or so he was taught. Grateful for the air conditioning blasting his side and the stirring smell of coffee, he hurried over to the angelic man. The date-to-be that may have already been ruined with the accidental hand touch. I’m such a fucking idiot, Trevor thought. Though his teeth gently chattered, he walked over and gently tapped his date on the shoulder. The lights above his almost-too-tall head lit him from behind like a halo.

“Jesus Christ,” his date yelled, jumping away. Several people at nearby tables stopped chatting to look over. Someone whispered and laughed. Trevor bit his cheek. His angelic date continued to lean away, one hand slowly reaching for his pocket. Trevor tried to smile but he could hardly pull off a grimace under the pressure of strangers now watching. He opened his mouth to speak but his eyes caught movement over by the cashier just up ahead. The cashier whimpered, a phone receiver in his hand. The cashier’s lip trembled, eyes wide in anticipation. Trevor ignored him and turned back to his date. 

“Hi...it’s Dane, right? Dane?” Trevor waited for a sign to continue. His date’s eyes widened in confusion and horror. “I-It’s Trevor,” he squeaked.

“ We have a…” Trevor choked at the word date. He sort of moved his arms around, instead, for emphasis. Some onlookers giggled. Trevor wanted to die.

“Date?” Dane finished blankly. Trevor nodded grimly, trying to ignore the giggles. Dane’s face looked between disbelief, anger, and as if he was about to maniacally laugh. Trevor hoped that if it was anything, it wasn’t the latter...not like last time. “You’re my date…” Trevor nodded, avoiding Dane’s eyes. Trevor took a few steps toward the cashier who gripped the phone receiver more aggressively, as if it were a weapon. His shaking wet upper lip reflected the overhead lights. 

“Excuse me, is there a table... away from the windows?” Trevor asked. He worried that he wasn’t clear enough, as the cashier appeared to be a melting sculpture. “Actually, far from the windows. Can you direct me to the table furthest from the windows?”

Dane and Trevor sat at a wobbly table near the bathroom that was most certainly not even slightly soundproof. Dane and Trevor ordered their coffees and sat in silence for a long time, trying to ignore the sounds of a poor soul’s violent diarrhea.

“Well hi,” Trevor started. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple practically moving down to his collarbone. “Here we are. On a d-date.” Dane nodded once, taking a long sip of his coffee. In the dim light, the structure of his face looked like a carving. Trevor’s throat nearly closed up. The guy in the bathroom loudly shat. Trevor nearly gagged, the silence lingering. He let his eyes wander to the window. Two birds fluttered around the outdoor tables, pecking at small crumbs. Despite the circumstances, he inhaled lightly and managed a smile. Trevor turned back to Dane with it. “H-how are you doing today, D-Dane?” Trevor’s coffee cup clapped slightly on the saucer as he attempted to lift it. He quickly put both of his hands on his lap. Dane’s eyebrows furrowed. Trevor melted.

“So, you...you wore a ski mask to our date,” Dane began. Trevor nodded. Of course. It was necessary. “And gloves...and…” Dane held up his hands and slowly released his breath, laughter buried lightly underneath. Trevor leaned in close to the wall and carefully removed his ski mask when he was sure he was only lit by the cafe lights. Dane's gaze softened at his sweaty face and frazzled hair, his eyes full of recognition. Trevor’s eyes moved to the table as he hopelessly tried to fix his hair. Dane paused, clearing a laugh from his throat. “Um...could you please explain why?” Trevor’s heart sank. Oh no...did I not tell him? Did… no I swore I told him...he must have… His thoughts were interrupted with more loud shitting. Trevor huffed angrily and cleared his throat.

“We talked about it in chat, remember?” Trevor said. Dane’s mouth twisted in confusion and then suddenly, his eyes nearly burst out of his head.

“Wait...No! No way!I thought you were kidding. I- thought it was a joke,” Dane said. Trevor stirred his coffee loudly, staring into the whirlpool it created.

“No, it’s--it’s true.”

“You’re actually allergic to the sun?” 

“Yes.” Dane’s mouth gently dropped open but he did not make a sound. To drown out another horrifying fart, Trevor practically stirred his coffee into a foam. After what felt like minutes of silence, Dane’s hand eventually found his nose bridge.

“So,” Dane began at last. “Can you just like...never be out in the sun? Like does it make you sneeze? Could you take some medication or--” 

“Sun allergies have to do with the skin. So, if the sun touches my skin and I have a reaction, it may cause--” Trevor stopped and leaned forward on his elbows. He lowered his voice. “Sun poisoning.” Dane did not react. 

“What is sun poisoning?” Trevor jumped at his voice, but did not lean away. He sharply inhaled.

“Have you ever had the flu?” 

“I mean, yeah…”

“Imagine that plus giant hot, itchy rashes and burns.” Trevor looked away. He mumbled something under his breath, his nearly translucent skin somehow paling. Dane cleared his throat uncomfortably. Silence again. Trevor continued to stir his coffee.

“Well, that sounds awful,” he said finally. Trevor nodded with vigor. 

“Right? It’s the w-worst. I was hospitalized for almost a week once.” 

“An entire week?” Trevor nodded slowly, taking a sip of his coffee, without the saucer this time. 

“Is that--like when you were hospitalized--when you learned you have a sun allergy?” Trevor shook his head. 

“No, I have had it since I was a baby. It didn’t used to be q-quite so bad, though,” Trevor paused wondering if he should continue. Silence gripped them once more, making him nervous. “It was at a friend’s birthday party,” Trevor added quickly, desperately trying to adapt to their situation. Dane’s eyes momentarily widened in pity. Damn it, I shouldn’t have said that…way to go.

“Wait, so you had to go to the hospital during a friend’s birthday party?” Trevor looked away. 

The sounds of the cafe, people chatting, the clacking of keyboards, the loud diarrhea, the hissing of the espresso machine filled his ears. Trevor’s hair was nearly sticking to his forehead, his breaths a bit shorter and desperate than he knew was appropriate. He considered excusing himself to the bathroom but another loud fart reminded him that wasn’t an option. His vision blurred and a loud snare played in his chest.

“Do you want to go outsid--” Dane stopped himself, embarrassment pinching his cheeks red. Trevor shot up out of his chair.

“Yes please.” Trevor took a final lingering sip of coffee, like a too-eager kiss goodbye. He set his still half-full mug on the table and put his ski mask, carrying his hat and sunglasses. 

“I’ve got this, I’ll meet you outside,” Dane said. Trevor made his way out to the entrance while Dane allowed himself a full-bodied laugh.

Trevor and Dane wandered around downtown, sharing childhood stories of growing up on the coast. Out on the street, people stared, pointed, whispered at his bizarre date. Others called out like they knew him, referring to him as ‘ski mask guy.’ Dane kept himself at a distance, bewildered at why he was walking the streets with this weird guy. Pity? Too uncomfortable to leave? He figured being too nice was the culprit. It could always be worse. Nothing compares to the last time…

“Hey, let’s go in here,” Dane suggested, pointing at an old school surf shop. I can at least get some wax while I’m out...A bell twinkled as they stepped in, a steady stream of smoke by the window released the calming, fruity smell of nag champa. 

“Wow, is that really you?” A long-haired older gentleman said by the cash register. Dane blushed. Well, it does happen occasionally. Nine thousand followers on insta was nothing to sneeze at. 

“Hey man, what’s up?” Dane said, lifting a hand for a high five. 

“Randy!” he heard Trevor say behind him. The older gentleman scurried over and brought Trevor in a big hug, ski mask and all. 

“It’s been what--”

“It’s been like a month!” 

“Far too long. You’re never out during the day! I haven’t seen you out since...well maybe you were in middle school!” 

The old man seemed to be speaking in rapid fire, bombarding Trevor with questions while he caught every bullet. Dane listened on as Trevor, this ski mask wearing freak, talked for several minutes with the shopkeeper like he was some sort of celebrity. Something sparked like flint in Dane. Jealousy? No. Well, maybe. Confusion? Resentment? Well, the date couldn’t last too much longer. And he got the wax he needed, anyway. He swiveled the hemp store bag back and forth, checking his Insta. Over 500 people commented on his pictures of Santa Cruz from that morning. Over 2k more commented on his post about his move away from LA. He sighed, locking his phone. Trevor and the old man finally appeared to be wrapping up their conversation. Dane felt another pang of that...something. He watched Trevor’s mouth struggle in the small mouthhole of the mask, as if it could not contain him. Dane suddenly noticed how much Trevor shifted his body when he talked and how he talked with his hands. And maybe how white and straight his teeth were. Had he seen his teeth before? And maybe the definition in his arms as they moved underneath his long-sleeved shirt. Trevor hugged the shopkeeper again and he practically skipped back over. 

“Ready?” Dane asked. Trevor scratched the back of his head.

“Sorry about all that. Randy is an old family friend,” Trevor explained. “I’m not usually here during the day and…” Dane nodded leading them out. He pulled his shirt collar, using the movement to fan himself. 

“Want to go get something cold?” Trevor asked. Dane couldn’t help but look at Trevor’s costume. And you’re worried about ME? Trevor suggested they go to the Amy’s Ice Cream walk-thru.

“Walk thru? Like a drive thru?”

“Yeah, but you walk up.” Trevor remained his animated self. To Dane’s surprise, he laughed. And not...well, at Trevor... An early evening breeze carried it away with the leaves. He wished it had stayed. When they arrived at the walk thru, the line was already at least thirty people long. 

“Whoa!” 

“Not too bad today!” Trevor mused. Dane raised his eyebrows.

“Not too bad?” Dane repeated. 

“Nope. It’s usually around the block.” Trevor pulled at his mask carefully to let some air in. Dane frowned. 

“Are you doing okay with all of that on?” Trevor waved him away. 

“This is nothing. It’s only in the low 80’s. Once summer hits...” Trevor cut off short. Dane waited for him to continue but Trevor never started up again. Dane fanned him with his hands. Trevor’s lips curved into an involuntary smile. “I promise, I’m fine…” 

Trevor ordered a single scoop but received multiple after a run-in with the older staff who, of course, recognized him. Dane opted for a more sensible ice coffee. They sat in the shade of a large tree and indulged in silence. The wind gently touched the leaves, a soft shushing sound filling the air. Trevor studied the clouds, the sun already reflecting shades of pink and light orange. Dane looked over at Trevor, who leaned against the tree trunk and stripped off his ski mask and gloves, replacing his hat. Trevor’s skin appeared soft, delicate. Even fragile. Without his ski mask, Dane could see faint pink splotches along his neck and jawline. His gaze traced Trevor’s profile to his hands. The splotches on his hands were larger, the skin raised. Dane shivered.

“The birthday party,” Trevor said, taking a bite of his ice cream cone. Dane held his breath. Was I staring? Did he see? Trevor laughed suddenly and licked a melted drop off the side of his hand. “It’s stupid, really. I thought I was safe in the water. It made sense.” Trevor inspected the inside of his nearly empty ice cream cone. Dane watched his eyes. Even in the shade, he could see the lightness in his eyes as if they brought light with them to reflect. He sipped his ice coffee. “The water was cold. I thought it was like a barrier. But, I mean, you’re a surfer, you know what happens when you mix sun and water.” Dane grimaced looking back at the scars on Trevor’s hands. “The scars are permanent but the sun poisoning was far worse, trust me.” 

Dane flinched. What could be worse than permanent scars? He let his eyes move back to Trevor’s scars. He sensed that Trevor could feel his gaze but he didn’t look uncomfortable. Pink blotches of organic shapes like petals floating on water, light, nearly imperceptible but constant. Inherent. True permanence. Was a tattoo truly permanent if it could be removed? But these scars... Dane felt the urge to touch one. Trevor finished his ice cream, wiping his sticky hands on the grass. Dane wrinkled his nose, returning to his ice coffee. 

Trevor leaned his head back against the tree, closing his eyes. Dane copied him, scooching closer to the tree. And to Trevor. Trevor pulled his hat down over his eyes. 

“Remember the guy at the cafe?” Trevor suddenly asked. Dane opened one eye. Trevor’s remained covered by his hat.

“The pooping guy?” 

“Yeah,” Trevor said. Dane’s mouth twitched. Trevor grinned.

“How could I forget. What the fuck was up with that?” Trevor shook his head, with held breath.

 “I have no idea...What do you think was wrong with him? Bad sushi? Too much coffee?” Trevor asked. Dane clamped his lips together, little broken exhales coming out his nose. Trevor broke first and laughed himself into a fit. Dane broke immediately after.

“IBS?”

“Drugs?”

“Lactose intolerance?”

“Mexican food was too spicy?”

“Or too much Taco Bell.”

“The gingerbread man?” Dane looked confused.

“What’s the gingerbread man?” 

“Oh, it’s when you run too fast, too hard or...basically, when running gives you diarrhea.” Dane stared at Trevor. Trevor flicked his hat off his eyes. “What? It’s true.”

“I’ve never gotten diarrhea from running,” Dane said. 

“Maybe you just haven’t run enough...real runners get diarrhea.” Trevor laughed at his own joke before he even finished it. It was absolutely adorable.

“So, you run?” Dane asked after their laughs died down.

“Yeah. I love it. I actually swim, too. I’ve always wanted to surf but…”

“Yeah…” Night surfing just isn’t quite the same. Trevor played with some torn grass between his fingers. It didn’t matter what Trevor did, it was all adorable. 

“Sorry you had to find out about my sun allergy during our date,” Trevor said. Suddenly, Dane’s heartbeat filled his ears. He stared at Trevor’s hand. He considered the date. The awkwardness, the embarrassment, the confusion, the resentment. Dane could see Trevor for all the things he was rather than what he wanted him to be or thought he wanted. So, he let his heart move him right to Trevor’s naked hand.

“Next time, let’s go out at night.”