Flat-Out Love

Julie Seagle Attempting to perfect tricky Boston accent, but currently sound more like Robin Williams than Matt Damon. Dammit. Success is elusive.

Julie leaned against the counter and looked up at Java Genius’ chalkboard menu. “I need a type of icy, frothy, coffee, chocolate concoction,” she said leadingly.

The guy behind the counter crossed his arms. “Do you mean a Frappuccino?”

Julie clicked her tongue. “Close. A little less powerful. Something more like… I don’t know….”

He sighed. “A Dunkin’ Donuts Coolatta?”

“Bingo!”

The barista set his forearms on the counter and leaned in to Julie, smiling. “We have a Mocha Heatbuster that I think you’ll like. Anything for your friend? Or friends?” The coffee guy pointed to the couch by the window, where Celeste sat upright on a couch, with Flat Fi

“Yes, two smoothies. A mango yogurt for him and a chocolate banana for her,” Julie said straight-faced.

He looked into Julie’s eyes, his own glistening as he tried not to smile. “Will that be it?”

“For now. One of us may need another drink in a bit. In fact, one of us may really need a drink in a bit. Those two are a lot to handle, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

“I’m used to it. We get all types in here. This is Cambridge, after all.”

Julie watched as he made their drinks. He had nice arms, and she involuntarily lowed her gaze when he turned around. Oh, my. He had a lot of nice parts. The styled black hair and green eyes didn’t hurt, either.

She reached inside her purse, but he stopped her and tipped his head toward Flat Fi

Julie flinched. Goddamn Flat Fi

“Seth.”

“Seth. Thank you, Seth. I’m Julie.” She cleared her throat and tried to come up with an excuse as to why she was out for coffee with a flat boy.  Telling him that a thirteen-year-old girl needed to cart around a flat version of her brother for a mysterious reason probably wouldn’t fly so well. “I’m doing an experiment for my psych class. Recording people’s reactions to the presence of a life-sized cardboard cutout in various situations.”

“Sure you are.” He stepped back and held his hands out to the side. “In that case, how am I doing? C’mon, what’s the assessment? Am I passing?”

Julie tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to look serious. “It’s not a question of doing well or poorly. It’s just an objective collection of data.” She picked up her drink and couldn’t help gri

“I’m relieved,” Seth said. “Do you want help carrying those drinks? That guy you came with doesn’t look very helpful. Chivalry is dead these days, I guess.”

“He has his moments. Now doesn’t seem to be one of them. And he’s not actually my guest.”

“So, does this mean there’s any chance you’re single then?”

She winked at him. “I think it’s too soon for you to ask me that.”

“Fair enough.”

Celeste was poised stiffly on the end of a purple velvet couch, a bustle of ficus leaves from a potted tree dangling just above her head. Seth set the chocolate banana drink on the coffee table in front of her and held the mango smoothie out. “What should I—”

“Just put that one down,” Julie advised.

“OK. Hi,” he said, as he held his hand out to Celeste. “I’m Seth.”

Celeste was breathing audibly, but she took his hand. “Celeste.”

“Mind if I sit down?”

Celeste sized him up. “I think that decision is up to Julie. You are interested in her romantically, correct?” she said robotically.

“I think it’s too soon for you to ask me that,” he said. It was his turn to wink at Julie. “But, yes, I am.”

“Let’s just let him stay. I’m sure he’ll have another customer any minute, and then we can talk about him behind his back.” Julie sat down next to Celeste and tried her drink. “As blended coffee beverages go, this one is not bad.”

“Maybe you’ll be a regular customer then?” Seth dropped into the cushy armchair in front of them. “Maybe all of you will? I would not complain if two beautiful women with a non-threatening guest wanted to stop in every day.”

Julie pretended to pout. “Celeste, I think he’s hitting on you.”

Celeste blushed nearly scarlet red and hurriedly reached for her drink. The pins in her hair had held up, and with the decent outfit on, she not only looked her age, but also looked especially pretty. “Julie,” she scolded softly, but the tone of her voice had lightened. She couldn’t hide her obvious enjoyment at being complimented.

Seth laughed and slouched over, resting his arms on his legs. “Ah, if I was only a few years younger, then definitely. As it is, I’ll have to settle for shamelessly hitting on Julie. What do you think, Celeste? Do you think she’ll go out with me?”

Normal color had returned to Celeste’s cheeks, and she looked seriously at him. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Do you work here full-time?”

 “I’m a sophomore at BU. I work here a few afternoons a week and sometimes weekends. I’m majoring in political studies,” Seth said, accepting that an interrogation had begun.

Celeste began firing off questions. “Where do you live?” “Do you have misbehaved roommates?” “Do you have any pets? Do you have any misbehaved pets?” “Are you a good driver?” and on and on.

Seth, to his credit, answered every question thoroughly and respectfully. He lived in one of the dorm rooms at Boston College and had one roommate, who was a transfer student from Nebraska and so far had not proven to be misbehaved. No pets, as the college wouldn’t allow it, but one day Seth would like to have a pot-bellied pig. He had only had one speeding ticket (forty in a thirty-mile-an-hour zone), and he paid the ticket promptly and had never had a car accident. “No accidents in Boston is a big deal, so I want extra credit for that.”

“Noted,” Celeste said.

“OK, that’s plenty.” Julie cut off the line of questioning. She couldn’t help noting the irony of Celeste assessing anyone’s emotional stability. “I think we’ve determined that Seth is not a psychotic nut.”

“He doesn’t seem to be,” Celeste agreed. “I think you should go out with him.”

Seth clapped his hands together. “Yeah? OK, I have one vote for yes. I just need one more… one more! What’s it go

“Sure, why not?” Julie agreed.

“Yes!” He threw his hands up in victory. “Friday night? Seven o’clock?”

“OK,” she said.

“This is going to be a real date, I assume?” Celeste asked. “You are not going to take her to a tawdry, rambunctious college party, are you?”

“No. Definitely not. I promise I will take Julie somewhere nice. Di