Revealing Glances: Unsettling Short Stories & Their Making

Move On

(This story was originally posted on its own, but I felt it fit in better as part of this collection. If it seems familiar, it's probably because you've read it before.)

...

It took me four months before I could stomach the aroma of coffee, six months before I could drink it, and an entire year to build up the courage to enter a café again.

I was starting university in the fall, and I didn't want to miss out on the ubiquitous coffee culture. I didn't want my fear and paranoia to control me anymore.

I used to love my caramel macchiato at my favorite bustling coffee shop, but both had lost their appeal, so I began frequenting a smaller, mellower café. Although I'd been dropping by daily for the past three weeks, I still monitored the barista with a wary gaze, my eyes only straying to scan anyone within arm's reach of my order.

"Small mocha for Gen!"

I reached for my cup, only to draw back when another person reached for it too. With my pulse racing, I turned towards the man who'd also withdrawn his hand.

"Oh, I ... I'm sorry," he stammered, "I thought he said Jed!"

My fearful expression must have startled him because he stepped back, giving me an apologetic smile. Embarrassed by my reaction, and comforted by his respect, I let out an awkward chuckle.

"No worries. It happens."

We took our separate mochas, laughed at the happenstance, and exchanged small talk as we stood on the sidewalk. I wasn't comfortable sharing my private information, but we agreed to meet the next day at the same place and time.

After a few weeks of daily coffee dates, I warmed up to Jed. He was soft-spoken and sensitive, traits enhanced by his thin physique and timid posture, and he had an innocent sense of humor and a fondness for old video games and outdated pop culture references.

He took to calling me Vee, since he felt Genevieve was a mouthful and Gen sounded too similar to Jed. I reminded him it was that very similarity that led to our introduction, and he gave me one of his bashful chuckles.

I never thought I'd connect with a stranger this quickly after what happened, but Jed was just the light I needed against my pessimism and distrust.

...

After a couple of months, Jed and I found ourselves drawing closer to each other with each meeting as we graduated from coffee chats to lunches to actual dates. Our conversations never ran stale, but one day, they took an unexpectedly vulnerable turn.

That evening, after our first movie date, Jed and I decided to grab a bite at his favorite diner. After sliding into a booth and giving our order, I excused myself to go wash my hands. Upon returning, I noticed Jed seemed withdrawn, his gaze distracted as he wrung his paper napkin.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, sliding onto the bench across from him.

His eyes met mine, but his usual smile was missing. "The movie, it ..."

He paused and looked away, and I emitted a sympathetic chuckle. "I know how you feel. The remakes never match the heart of the animated originals but you still get a little nostalgic."

He looked back at me, and the turmoil behind his eyes sobered me up. "Jed, what is it? Did the movie bring back bad memories or something?"

He took a deep breath, his reluctance noticeable. "There's something I want to tell you."

I nodded. "Okay, I'm listening."

He shifted in his seat and swept the hair away from his eyes, a habit I kept telling him a haircut would cure. He swallowed sharply, his foot tapping a restless rhythm against the leg of the table as he tried to find his words.