BOYS AND BUGS

 Plastic cups with scribbled orders lined the counter. Each one waiting its turn to be filled. All of the portafilters were locked into the group heads, brewing espresso. The machine’s whirling, the grinder’s hissing, and the hum of conversation filled the cafe. New cups replaced the ones I filled and called out. The early afternoon rush kept my mind from wandering. I had this and only this to focus on. I let myself be consumed by the need to make these orders, but the line of coffee slowly began to disappear. 

Stray coffee grounds stuck to my fingers as I called out, “vanilla latte for Emma.” I looked back to see an empty, but messy counter.  I rubbed my hands together trying to wipe away the gritty feeling. The shop instantly transformed. It was slow and quiet. I had begun to wipe down the counter, which was caked with drops of milk, spilled espresso, coffee grinds, and sticky syrup. My coworker, with no more orders to take, walked over to the grinder and filled it with fresh beans. I flinched at the rattling scream of the machine. “I am going to take my fifteen,” I called to her as I walked to the back. 

    *

“Did you know that cicadas scream when they feel scared?” Trevor asked me. “That’s what my dad told me.”

After hearing this, I began tiptoeing past trees, trying my hardest not to startle the poor bugs. Every time I heard the screech of the cicadas, I flinched with guilt. They were scared of the giant creatures that stomped past their homes. 

Only a few days later, Trevor ran over to me carrying a cicada between his thumb and forefinger. “Look, Fern! I caught one!” The poor bug screamed and twitched between his fingers trying to wiggle free. 

“Leave it alone, Trevor.” 

“My dad was right! It is so loud,” he laughed.

“Seriously! Let it go!” I looked up, trying to find someone to help free the bug, but we were alone. My hands instinctively reached out for the bug. 

Trevor was faster. He stuck his arm out, and his hand landed on my chest keeping me out of reach of the cicada. “Why? It is just a stupid bug. It can’t even feel anything.” 

His grip on the bug tightened. The crack of its exoskeleton splitting filled my ears. “Trevor! Please, stop!” He just continued to laugh, until his fingers met each other crushing the cicada between them. The screaming stopped and yellow goo spilled out, smushed in Trevor’s dirty fingers. 

Tears filled my eyes. Trevor just laughed. It was hard to tell if he was laughing at the bits of bug between his fingers or if he was laughing at me. He stood there and laughed. 

I ran home into the arms of my mom. When I told her about what happened, she too laughed, “Oh honey, he was probably just trying to show off to you. He wanted to impress you.” 

“But he killed it, Mommy. It was trying to get away and he just killed it.” 

My mom looked in my eyes and the curve of her lips fell slightly. She stroked the back of my head and held me close, “I know, love. I know.” She held me there for a moment before suggesting, “we should watch a movie, shouldn’t we?” I nodded my head. My mom placed me in front of the television as she slid Lilo and Stitch into the DVD player.

    *

I slid my headphones on and turned the volume up. My phone buzzed. Are you coming home for dinner tonight? Your momma misses you:(  my mom texted. 

My fingers hovered over the keyboard on the screen trying to think of an excuse that I haven’t used yet. I loved my mom, but I hated her questions and probing. I hated her silent judgement. But the older I got the more I saw myself in her. The more I saw her regret. The more I felt guilty and sorry for her past. I knew she was just trying her best to raise a daughter who didn’t want to exist in the world she lived in. I hesitated then typed out I am exhausted… maybe next week? A ball of guilt dropped in my stomach. It is just dinner, I can do dinner, but can’t stay long. Midterms…  I hit send, not knowing what I just committed to. I went back to the bar and helped take orders while my coworker took over the drinks. We closed together and took our separate paths home. 

The late summer heat was becoming suffocating, but thankfully this afternoon had carried a cooler breeze with the setting sun. I tiptoed past a dogwood trying to tune out the cicadas screams, until I felt a crunch under my foot. I lifted my foot to see yellow goo squished into the concrete. Immediately noise rushed in. The sound of the cicadas’ screaming and laughter followed it. That same boyish, slurred laughter.

    *

“Please, please, please, come to the party with me!” Lydia begged for the fifth time this lunch period. 

“You know it isn’t really my scene. Besides, you said going with Kevin,” I was hoping to get her talking about her new boyfriend.

“Well, yes. But to be completely, one hundred percent honest with you, it isn’t just me that wants you to go.” I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! Trevor was asking about you, and I think he wants to take you. I mean obviously I want you to go, too!”

                  “I swear I can never escape him,” I shoved a fork full of caesar salad into my mouth.

                  “He likes you, Fern. You haven’t given him a chance.”

                  “A chance to what? Not be an obnoxious ass?” Maybe this was unfair. I mean he was obnoxious, interrupting class for an unfunny joke that a third of the class would laugh at, but I haven’t really given him a chance to prove that he was an ass considering I have been avoiding him since we got to high school.

                  “Okay, well if you don’t go for him, then at least go for me!”

That Friday night, I found myself getting ready to go to the party. “I don’t even know what I am supposed to wear to these things,” I complained to my mom.

 She sat me down at my vanity and began brushing my hair, “Honey, lighten up.” She clicked the hair straightener on and went to my closet. She carried out a pair of ripped, dark wash skinny jeans and a black tank top. “Wear this. You can throw a jacket over it.” She laid the clothes on my bed and returned to my hair. “I am proud of you. It is nice seeing you put yourself out there.” I looked at her through the mirror, “Who knows, honey? Maybe you will actually have a little fun if you just try.” She smiled as pulled the straightener through my frizzy curls. 

I began lacing up white sneakers, when I heard a knock on the door. “Oh Trevor! I didn’t expect you.” I heard my mom say as she opened the door. Trevor? I walked downstairs only to confirm my irritation, Trevor standing in the entryway.

“Hey, Fern,” he smiled. The way his lips curled made my skin crawl. My mom shot me a look, as if she could read my thoughts. I have received that look many times. Don’t be rude, Fern. I heard her voice clear in my mind. 

“Lydia told me they were picking me up,” my voice hitched trying not to express my frustration. This wasn’t the plan. My fingers curled and I felt a dull sting as my nails pressed into my palm.

“They are  running late, so Kevin asked me to pick you up,” he continued wearing a boyish smile. 

“Alrighty, Fern,” my mom interjected, “be safe! And get her home at a reasonable time,” she winked at Trevor. She pushed Trevor and I out the door waving. 

When we got in the car, Trevor turned on Jumpman by Drake and Future and began singing along. I looked at my hands and began chipping away at my nail polish. I would have rather been anywhere but in a car with Trevor. 

“Have you even been to Sean’s?” Trevor asked, breaking the wall between us.

“No,” I paused, “I don’t really go to these things.”

“At least, tell me you have gotten drunk before!”

I feigned a laugh, “Again, not really my thing.”

“Oh great, then that’s it! My goal tonight is to get Fern drunk.” 

I wasn’t interested in entertaining his idea of fun. I rolled my eyes and silently resumed the task of picking the polish of my nails and Trevor returned to his singing. 

Trevor led me into the party. Loud music played and people gathered around in their separate huddles. Trevor took hold of my wrist and pulled me to the coolers. He handed me a White Claw, and he cracked open his Coors. We walked around to different circles making small talk. I kept looking for Lydia but couldn’t find her. After about half an hour wandering around with Trevor, he grabbed the drink from my hands to feel the weight.

“Dude, you have barely made a dent! Don’t forget my goal tonight.” 

“Our goals don’t really align,” I responded as he handed me back the drink.

“You will have more fun with a little alcohol in you,” he smiled. I looked around to see people sipping their drinks, having loose conversation and smiling. I thought back to what my mom said earlier, you will have fun if you just try.  Maybe she was right, and I have been holding myself back. I knew she worried about me and my lack of weekend plans. She had told me she was afraid I was missing out on being a teenager. I didn’t want her to worry. So in some twisted way, I decided I will drink for her. And with that I took a longer sip. 

Every few minutes, he started grabbing my drink to make sure I was keeping up. Once the can was empty, I was guided back to the kitchen. He grabbed a few of his friends on the way and pulled a bottle of Malibu off the counter. He poured it into solo cups and passed them around. Everyone held their cups up, waiting for me to join. I made eye contact with Trevor and he glanced up, indicating I needed to join them. I pressed my cup against the rest and before I could think, I joined them in throwing back the shot.

Trevor began laughing at my crunched up face. “That was disgusting,” I gagged. Before I knew it, Trevor pushed a new drink into my hand and went off with his friends. I joined a small group of girls and participated in their small talk and gossip. One of them suggested playing ring of fire, which required me to grab another drink. After a few rounds, I felt Trevor squat down behind me.

“Let’s go get another drink.”

My head was already slightly fuzzy, “I don’t think I need another, yet.”

“Fern, you aren’t even drunk. Come on,” he jutted his front lip out and made puppy eyes.

The girls chimed in and agreed, pushing me up to my feet. Trevor laced his fingers between mine and led me to the kitchen again. My feet stumbled through the crowd of people, nearly causing me to fall. This time, Trevor didn’t bring along his friends to join us. The kitchen was empty. He poured me a shot of Pink Whitney, lifted his cup up, and I tapped mine to his, then took the drink. 

“I think you reached your goal,” I slurred through sticky saliva. I leaned in the corner of the kitchen counter, to balance myself. 

“Good,” Trevor smiled, “I was worried for a second.” 

“Did you end up seeing Lydia? I couldn’t find her.” 

“No, I meant to tell you she got sick and couldn’t make it. Lydia texted me right after we got here.” Trevor began walking closer to me. He put his hand next to me on the counter. “Can I ask you something?”

The alcohol loosened my lips, “Go ahead.”

“You suddenly just stopped talking to me when we got to high school. Why?”

“Because I think you are rude and obnoxious.” I laughed as I answered. 

“Huh. I guess you are right.” He chuckled. His body pressed closer to mine, crushing me against the cabinets,  until his lips were a hair away. I lifted my hands to push him back, but my drunkenness slowed my reaction. He grabbed them and slammed them onto the counter. 

“Trevor, st-stop.”

“What? Are you scared?” He laughed before pressing his lips to mine. 

    *

I pushed my palms  against my ears trying to block out the noise, and began walking faster towards my apartment. When I finally made it back, I slammed the door and locked it behind me. I grabbed my tv remote and opened Hulu to play the first thing that popped up. I called out to my Alexa to turn on spotify and notre dame by Paris Paloma began playing. I turned the volume up, ignoring the many noise complaints my neighbors have filed against me. I scrolled through video after video on TikTok. My finger moved faster and faster, until the screen began to blur. I waited for all of the noise in my head to be drowned out. My mindless, catatonic scrolling was interrupted by a text from my mom, coming soon? dinner is getting cold. But the cicadas outside were still screaming.