Javashine
In case you missed the first two chapters of a literary fiction piece I’m working on! If you’re all caught up - scroll for Chapter 3.
Messages for Amy
The cigarette’s ashes burned for a moment, and the sparks flickered before fading into the wet sidewalk. Gene had never smoked before, and often wondered how others could so flippantly flick their leftover smokestacks to the ground. Was it the littering—or perhaps the small reminder of death taken so unseriously?
Chapter 2: Lawyer Man
The day after a holiday always felt heavier than other days. To make matters worse, Gene was taking public transit during the night to watch the premiere of a reality TV show with her friends. And she was on the train alone. The man across from Gene stared as he pulled out another piece of chicken from the paper bag while grease collected on his sticky …
Chapter 3
The out-of-order sign taped to the espresso machine silently mocked Gene. She was in desperate need of a caffeine fix.
“I’d get the coconut pineapple matcha, I had it last week and it transformed my aura.” Lara drank from a flimsy plastic cup and wiped the diamond-like sweat from her brow as if she’d just performed as a backup dancer for the Renaissance tour.
“I still can’t believe you don’t drink coffee.” Gene survived on cappuccinos and cold brew since she was a pre-teen.
“Well, unfortunately for me, my teeth are still not perfectly white.” Lara laughed and began stretching in her jewel-toned athletic onesie.
Gene laughed and stared at the neatly drawn chalk sign with the specials menu.
“Whoever is drawing these characters deserves a pay raise. Do you see this coconut? How cute. It looks like a little Sanrio character.”
“I know, I swing by here on Sundays after my runs, and I sometimes see the girl who does it switch the signs!” Lara lived right around the corner, and Javashine was her makeshift office. She worked as a data analyst with a remote schedule and found peace in the tropical-themed cafe, which featured yellow seat cushions and free Wi-Fi.
“Okay, I know we just finished yoga class, but something about getting a matcha and doing yoga feels a little too cringeworthy,” Gene admitted.
“We both know matcha tastes like grass, but when perfectly combined with the right flavors, it’s…” Lara brought her fingers to her mouth and kissed them.
“Okay, okay.”
The two brought their drinks and sweaty mats with them to the seats outside, where the umbrella provided them with a bit of shade from the early morning sun.
“So when are you coming back to the studio?” Lara asked. Her usual sunny demeanor was met with quiet concern.
Gene knew this question would come up. She scratched the back of her neck and looked down.
It haunted her anytime she and Lara hung out. Whether it was a community art class, pilates and puppies, or a workshop on making a fermented drink called kefir, somehow it always came back to dance. And the studio she now avoided at all costs.
“It’s just not something I think about like that anymore,” Gene said. Lara could see through her half-assed answer, but didn’t push the topic any further.
“Hmmm… just like you never think about Adam Driver, right?” Lara made a goofy face and playfully tickled Gene’s thigh.
“You know it was just one time I had a dream about him… I don’t even think he’s cute!”
“Sureeeee… but honestly, I get the appeal. Kylo Ren can get it, even by my standards.”
Lara was a quintessential Chapstick lesbian who loved to push Gene’s buttons about her dating life. But Gene was thoroughly closed off from any romance in her life; meanwhile, Lara liked to dream about tall women bossing her around.
“I am sorry, though,” Gene opened up, “Dance isn’t what it used to be for me.”
Lara adjusted her curtain bangs and pushed the sweaty pieces to the side. She looked like a kid with rosy cheeks while she stuffed a muffin in her mouth.
“You know I’m not convinced. I’ve seen the way you light up in Alandra’s class!” Lara swallowed and took a deep breath before going silent.
Gene smiled and grabbed Lara’s hand and squeezed it.
“We all miss you.” Lara’s big eyes filled up with tears, and she looked at her with worry.
This was never the plan, but it was the only way she could protect herself from the looming possibility of seeing Alan. And Lara knew that too.
“I miss you, too.”
—
The journey to dance was never easy for Gene, and her severe case of scoliosis was the first obstacle. Her parents had never financially recovered from her surgeries, and the medical bills continued to show up on their kitchen counter. But they insisted the joy they felt seeing her dance through the house and on the stage was worth it.
Gene’s parents were surprised when she moved away, but they were even more devastated when she stopped giving them updates about her teachers and upcoming performances. She was an only child after all, and they sacrificed so much to see her happy.
So when Gene called her parents one Sunday afternoon after a conversation with Ellen, one of her biggest supporters, her mother cried when Gene finally shared the news about the new studio.
“Mom, it’s not that big of a deal.” Gene pulled on the strings of her fraying jean shorts.
“Shhh…let me be happy for you. I always wanted you to be successful. To find a job, a husband. But I miss seeing you light up and dance.” The sniffles were quiet, but Gene could hear her mom crying softly.
“Honey, we are so glad you are back! We love you, and please wear your brace.”
Gene was easily embarrassed by her parents’ doting, but she knew it was from a place of worry. They had seen her when warm baths and tubs of dairy-free ice cream couldn’t cure her depressive episodes.
“Genie, we love you.”
“I know, Mom. I’m just nervous,” Gene said quietly. She felt like her own body had betrayed her, and she didn’t want to feel that pain again.
—
Gene wanted to move her body freely, like a jellyfish in the sea, propelling itself through the ocean. More than anything, she wanted to feel in control. She was pulled back into reality as the blenders whirred, making her jump.
“I have the perfect thing that will make you feel better!”
Gene internally groaned and begged the heavens for something interesting and less social.
“You HAVE to come to this kombucha workshop I’m going to in Hudson Valley. You will die, it’s a full fermentation fiesta…” Lara trailed off as her excitement grew.
There was no avoiding it this time because Gene had spent three months avoiding Lara’s calls and finally had started to break out of her insular world again.
“Oh, and please, please bring Ellen. Well, we will need her because she has a car, right? Yes, okay, and then perfect, we can also fit in the girl I’m seeing, Dana. Ooh! Yay, I’m so excited.”
Gene quickly texted Ellen to confirm before making any promises. Her trusty Subaru Forester had brought them on many adventures outside of the city.
Gene: KOMBUCHA WORKSHOP, MID JUNE, U IN?
Ellen: KOMBUCHA? I LOVE KOMBUCHA. BUT TELL LARA TO PAY ME FOR GAS IN ADVANCE. YEAH? LATE ON CAR PAYMENT.
“This kombucha better be more tasty than this matcha. Cuz this shit is straight ass.”
Lara sprang up and squealed with delight.
“Oh my gosh, we are going to have so much fun! And yes, okay, I forgot to tell you the pineapple juice they used was a little funky, but that’s okay because we are gonna be slinging beverages like it’s nobody’s business.”