Paula Stokes - The Art of Lainey

Maybe if Id paid more attention to my mom and her tea leaves, I would have seen it coming. Instead, all I see is coming is Jason, my boyfriend of two and a half years. His dark uniform shirt clings to his muscular back and shoulders as he turns to shut the passenger door of the ambulance. Hes been doing ride-alongs with local medics this summer because hes thinking about becoming an EMT after we graduate.

I stop right in the middle of taking an order to watch as he saunters across the street. Pulling a chunk of strawberry blonde hair down over my forehead, I try to hide where an ill-advised visit to the tanning salon resulted in a big glom of overlapping freckles shaped like New Jersey. Next time I will be strong when one of my friends tells me my fair, freckly skin will turn all bronze and glowy if I take it slow. Lies. All lies. Some people are simply destined for spray tanning.

The door to my parents coffee shop plays a weird wooden tune as Jason opens it, courtesy of the coconut wind chimes Mom got on one of her hippie sabbaticals. Tahiti? Tuvalu? Who can keep track?

I said Id like a skinny iced chai and a Death-by-Chocolate-Moose Brownie. Did you get that? The girl on the other side of the register waves a hand in front of my face. Shes one of our regulars but I can never remember her name. Shes majoring in something artsy and likes to dress monochromatically. Today shes wearing a long, sky-blue skirt with a navy tunic and head wrap.

Got it, I tell her, sliding a brownie onto one of our colored ceramic plates and plunking it down in front of her. I fill a cup halfway with ice, slosh some chai concentrate and milk over the top, and finish by giving the drink a halfhearted stir. Here you go. I quickly run her credit card through the machine and then slip out from behind the counter.

Hey, is this skim milk? she asks.

Yeah, I say, and then mumble, I think so. I head across the shop to the long, wooden bar where Jason is now sitting with his back to me, tapping one of his black leather shoes to the music blaring from the speaker above his head. Weirdhe never sits at the bar.

So, what can I get for you, hotness? I lean in close to stroke one of the blond curls sticking out from the bottom of his cap.

He looks up at me and flashes his trademark dimpled smile, only today I dont see any dimples. A little voice inside my head whispers a warning: somethings not right.

I tell it to shush. Everything is better than right. I finished my junior year with decent grades so my parents are only making me work a couple of days a week at Denali, our family coffee shop. My older brother, Steve, is doing a summer study-abroad program in Ireland and left me the keys to his small but reliable Honda Civic. And my boyfriendthe smoking hot slice of savory goodness in front of mejust scored his own place. Well, technically his dad owns the condo, but he travels a lot for work so it might as well belong to Jason.

Ill just have water, Jason says.

I frown. You sure? Yesterday we got in this awesome Madagascar spice

Just water, Lainey, he says. Alex is waiting out in the ambo for me.

I glance through the big glass window in front of us, but the ambulance is parked across the street and I cant really see him. Well, you didnt have to leave him outside like a dog. Did you at least crack the window? I smile at my own joke.

But Jason doesnt smile. Crap. Something is wrong. Or Im being paranoid. I go get a glass of water and a mug of Madagascar tea for me and then rest my elbows on the bar next to him. Behind me, I hear my best friend, Bianca, picking up my slack at the counter. I shouldnt have left her up there by herself, but I need to make sure everything is finea few minutes with Jason to make that little voice in my head be quiet. Its not like anyone will die if they have to wait for their ultra-mocha-blended frapp with extra whipped cream.

Whats going on, Jay? You all right? I rub one of my hands across his shoulders, being careful not to snag my freshly manicured nails on his nubby polo shirt. Jason thought his ride-alongs would be all glamour, nonstop excitement. Maybe the reality that EMTs spend a lot of time waiting around for work has started to set in. Then again, a job doing nothing doesnt sound like something Jason would mind.

He turns away from the window to look at me. No dimples. No smile. I need a break, he says.

Are they working you too hard? Maybe I was way off about what EMTs do.

No. He laces his fingers together in front of his body. Its justI dont think we should see each other anymore.

Tea sloshes over the edge of my mug as I start to shake. Im sorry . . . what? My brain barely registers Biancas voice telling the customers to hang on a second. She hurries over with a rag and swipes at the floor while I continue to stare at my Jason. Are you breaking up with me?

Im not slow. Im just stunned. Jason and I have been together since the middle of freshman year. Less than a week ago we christened every room in his dads new condo, if you know what I mean. He talked about all the ways we were going to kick it this summer. Pool parties. House parties. Were even supposed to be playing on a coed soccer team with some of our friends from varsity. It sure didnt seem like he was unhappy with me.

Sorry, dude. Jason stands up, leaving his untouched glass of water on the bar.

Dude? Years of being practically inseparable and I am now reduced to the status of dude? Like we werent ever anything but drinking buddies? Bullshit. I put my hand on his arm to stop him. You cant just show up at my job and break up with me. Who does that?

What I mean is, things like this are not supposed to happen when everything else is perfect. In April, I got picked out of over a hundred girls to star in a commercial for Hazelton Forest University. In May, I scored the winning goal at the state soccer championships. And the summer was shaping up to be truly epic.

What the hell happened?

Jason looks everywhere but at me. Please dont make this any harder.

I told you I told you I told you, the little voice says. I want to strangle it. This cant be real. The coffee shop blurs in front of my eyes and I wobble slightly in my platform sandals. I tighten my grasp on Jasons arm to keep from falling over, but he pulls free so were no longer touching. For a second, I think about my moms face as she studied the bottom of her teacup yesterday. Separation, she warned. Sadness.

Crap. This is real. All I can do is clutch the edge of the nearest stool and stare at the metal sign on the wall above Jasons head: Dogsled parking only. Violators will be peed on. II dont understand, I say.

He gives me a pitiful look. I just need to be on my own for a while. Sorry, Lainey. He heads for the door.

The dining area of Denali is dead quiet, except for the music, which has faded away to a dull hum. Its so quiet Id be able to hear myself breathing if I wasnt holding my breath. I cant help but stare at Jasons muscular back as he disappears out into the heat.

The wind chimes clunk together like thunder as the door swings closed. I turn around slowly, praying no one in the shop heard our conversation. Bianca is holding a rag saturated with Madagascar spice tea. Her eyes are dark and her face is heavy. She looks like shes the one who got dumped. Behind her, two tables of college kids, and Micah, the prep cook, are staring at me.