Tea-Time on Cloud Nine

I’ll never forget that warm, summer day in June. 

I had just come out of the closet to my parents and my brother the week prior. Aside from a few raised eyebrows, my announcement was met with very little drama. 

“Thanks for a grand statement of the obvious,” my kid brother, Jared, said with a devlish grin as he flung my no-longer-hidden copy of the latest issue of The Advocate on the table. My parents had even said that I should pursue whatever was right for me and that I had their full support.

Anyway, I was sitting in my favorite tea shop pretending to read a book that Saturday afternoon feeling like I was on top of the world. I always loved coming to Cloud 9 Bubble Teashop. The atmosphere, the drinks, the people…everything was just spot-on. I was seated in a small, ergonomic armchair tinted a light, sea foam green in the corner of the tea shop, just to the left of the entrance as one enters. In my left hand I had my favorite milk tea, dubbed “Tokyo Tea” by the shop. (I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why they called it “Tokyo Tea.” But whatever. It was awesome.) In my right hand I held a book that I was pretending to read.

As for my seat, I admit…I chose it because of the view it offered. More on that in a bit.

 The walls that weren’t windows were murals of blue skies, clouds, and happy people lounging on each cloud while sipping bubble tea. Lining some of the walls were dark-colored, wire shelves with all sorts of leafy, green plants resting on them. Some shelves also had plush toys in the shapes of emoji-style cats and rabbits. Along some of the walls and the windows were several tables and chairs with faux marble-patterned paper coating. There were also a few wooden tables towards the middle of the seating area where people could stand and chat while setting down their tea. In the background, lo-fi hip hop music played from a big screen TV mounted on a wall near the cash register. On the screen was an anime-style video of a girl aged 17 or 18 with red hair and wearing headphones. She serenely walked through a hip neighborhood. 

But best of all, he was working that day. Quite frankly, he was the biggest reason why I came to Cloud 9 at least once per week. He had a grace that, simply put, captivated my eyes and my heart. He was about five foot six inches tall and had a slender build. I figured he was in his early 20’s and within a year of my age. The top portion of his hair including his bangs were dyed blond and the edges in the back were colored his natural black. He had fair skin and dark brown eyes. A faint scar vertically crossed his right cheek bone. Under the dark brown apron that was part of the shop workers’ uniform, he had on a black, v-neck t-shirt that created an exquisite contrast with his skin and hair colors. Pinned to his apron on the right side was a name-tag on which “Stuart” was written in graceful script that would have made John Hancock green with envy. I pictured him pulling out a Mont Blanc pen on his first day of work and signing his name with a flourish.

Stuart called out people’s names and the drinks they ordered in a strong, confident voice. At every step and turn he was fluid and graceful as he quickly served customers. 

It was all that I could do to not stare at him as he worked. Instead, I stole glances every now and then from the corner of my eye while I sipped my tea and read my book. 

I knew that what I was going to do today was not going to change anything. Nothing about him indicated that he was gay. Heck, I had even seen a girl stroll into the shop one day and ask excitedly if Stuart was working. He was. I remember how his face lit up when he saw her. The two of them walked outside the shop while she excitedly chattered away. My heart sunk as I saw them briefly hug. 

But I couldn’t be sure… Every time I saw him at the shop we always had a friendly conversation about this and that. I found out he was working part time here and finishing up his undergrad degree at the same local college as me. When he told me that he was also applying to grad school in San Francisco, I couldn’t help but feel even more smitten. So he was well-educated, too. We talked about our mutual enjoyment of bubble tea, soccer, and volleyball. He even liked listening to lo-fi, hip hop music while drawing.  

All in all, we seemed to have hit it off really well since I first met him. There were even times when I thought I had caught him glancing at me, like maybe he was checking me out.

It was probably just wishful thinking. 

Anyway, there was only one way to know for sure. I had to figure out if I was crazy or if I had a shot. I was out now, and I had been ogling this guy for the past few months. I was tired of bottling everything up inside. I had to let him know at least a little about how I felt about him, even if I might never be able to show my face here again. 

I mean, at the very least, he’d receive a compliment. Who doesn’t like a compliment, regardless of the source? 

I finished my Tokyo Tea, then stood up to wait in line behind the two or three other customers in front of me. Even though the line was short, the wait felt like an eternity. The whir of the blender and the clang of the cups and kettles seemed to be mimicking my heart as it clattered against my rib cage. 

Finally, it was my turn to place my order. Stuart was standing behind the counter and register. 

“Hey Damian,” he said with a grin as I stepped up to the counter. “Back for another round already? It’s not even two o’clock yet. At this rate, the owner’s going to be able to retire in a mansion in Malibu with all the revenue you’re generating for him.”

“Well, let him know that he needs give his best barista a raise.” I said, winking despite myself. “Just don’t forget to take me for some steak and lobster as part of my cut.”

There was a slight pause before he started chuckling. I couldn’t tell if he was just humoring me or if he actually found my come-back half amusing. 

“So what’s it going to be, Mr. Tokyo Tea?”

“I’ll have Green Tea Boba this time, please,” I said, my voice really low and quiet. I’ll admit, I normally don’t care for green tea, but I hadn’t tried Cloud 9’s yet and I felt like defying his expectations. Just this once.

My mouth was drier than the Mojave Desert. I tried not to swallow too loudly.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that again?” Stuart said. His eyebrow furrowed slightly. 

“Sorry,” I said a little louder. “May I have a Green Tea with boba?”

“Okay, anything else?”

“No, that’ll be it.”

“Okay, that’ll be seven thirty-two, please.”

I reached into my wallet, pulled out a five-dollar bill and three one’s and handed them to him. I made it a point to not touch his fingers. It already took everything to not blush. My cheeks felt like dull embers that threatened to flare up at any second. 

“Thank you,” Stuart said as he placed my bill in the cash register and started gathering my change. “I’ll make sure to have your tea out in a minute, Damian.”

Before he could pass me my change, I cracked. 

“Hey Stuart,” I said, my voice going low again, as it tends to do when I’m nervous. “I’ve been coming here for a while and I’d really like to get to know you outside of just Cloud 9. Maybe we could hang out sometime? Because…honestly…” My words suddenly dried up. I could feel my cheeks starting to burn. 

“I really, really like you,” I finished. 

God, I felt like the biggest idiot in the world. 

He looked at me with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. I thought I saw a hint of rose color his cheeks. 

“Um, thanks...” He said without even a hint of a stutter. “You’re great, too. I’ll have your tea out shortly…”

“Th-thanks,” I said.

What the hell was I thinking? I thought to myself as I waited. Thankfully no one was behind me to hear our little exchange, and those that were ahead of me were far enough away that I don’t think they did, either. 

I felt a lead weight in my chest. This was so pointless. I should just leave. To hell with everything. I wanted nothing more than to just melt away into the cracks of the wood-paneled floor and never be seen again. 

He could probably tell that I hadn’t dated much up until now. I just knew it. Ugh…

But I kept waiting. I mean, his response was so…flat. I wanted to see if he had anything else to say. It helped that he didn’t seem too upset. Thankfully. Maybe just nonplussed. 

After another eternity, Stuart called my name. My drink was finally ready. 

Eyes to toes, I briskly stepped up to the side of the counter to pick it up.

“Thanks, Stuart,” I said without looking at him. I grabbed one of the straws with the pointed ends and started turning away. 

“You forgot something,” Stuart said after I turned away and was a few steps away from the counter.

Puzzled, I turned back to him, this time hazarding a glance at his face. His face was expressionless and he was holding a napkin out towards me. 

For a second, I wondered if my first round of tea left a syrupy smudge above my lips. 

I took the napkin and something caught my eye before I wiped my mouth with it. Written on the white napkin in light blue ink were 10 digits.

I looked back up at Stuart. I must have been gaping like an idiot because Stuart was smiling.

And the rest is history.