The clock was ticking very loudly, like someone was tapping the end of a ballpoint pen against a countertop in an empty room. A steady, tick tock, tick tock, Captain Hook flinching with every clack of the second hand. Except the room wasn’t empty, it was actually pretty busy.

Tombs sat in a booth seat with her back to the wall. She’d found a spot in the corner where she thought she could hide, a position of safety where she could glance around and see everyone coming and going. The booth was a two-seater, a little table in front of her where she anxiously sat. Her hands were resting on the edge of the table, nervously gripping a cup of coffee.

She fidgeted with the cup, twisting it in circles with her fingers, the coffee shop’s logo rolling sideways out of her vision before eventually rolling its way back into it again. Every time the lid of the cup rotated into its drinking position, she lifted it and took a tiny sip from the plastic spout. She put it back down, spin, spin, spin, then another sip. Repeat.

The coyote had arrived early; way earlier than she needed to. She had to arrive early, otherwise she was afraid she’d chicken out and just drive right past the coffee shop. She got here about twenty minutes sooner than the time they’d agreed upon. Tombs refused to look at her phone unless it buzzed, which it hadn’t yet. She didn’t want to see the time on her phone screen. The ticking of the clock was bad enough, reminding her that there was a countdown that would eventually end with her coming face to face with someone, and a nerve wracking one on one.

Why had she asked him out? Was it just because she thought he was hot?

She was crazy, spinning her cup in circles and taking small, measured sips of her coffee.

Crazy.

She even dressed differently today, but not too different. What she wore was a white hoodie she’d gotten a few years ago. It had a Sailor Moon decal on the back, and she saw it mostly as a collector’s item. Wasn’t meant to be worn, but all her other hoodies looked too plain or junkie. She wanted to wear something more than clean, something that looked new. The white hoodie might as well have been brand new with how little she’d worn it. Her pants were new, too. Not because she just bought them, but because they were just a pair she hardly ever wore. They were khaki in color, a sporty pair with tons of pockets and a loop on the side for her to hook a chain wallet to. It wasn’t a pair she’d made that much use of. They’d just been on sale.

So, in her white and khaki outfit, she looked different, maybe except for the cap. She had a few different knit caps, but they were all either black or grey. She’d grabbed the palest grey she owned to go with the white of her hoodie.

She felt so uncomfortable. There were a ton of people here, just people grabbing coffee and leaving, like a line of ants in and out the door. A bunch of other people were at tables just like she was, talking to each other, or noisily having a conversation on their phone. Despite the noise, she could still hear the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. Perched near the ceiling it kept obnoxiously reminding her that the sand in the hourglass was drawing closer to empty.

Her phone buzzed.

She quickly reached into her hoodie’s left pocket, snatching her phone and drawing it above the table. There was a message notification from an unknown number.

She checked it and felt herself begin to panic. Unable to reply, she tucked her phone back into her pocket.

As her heartbeat quickened, the clock kept ticking. Now she knew how close he was, each tick tock of the clock was suddenly a meaningful number. Every sixty ticks was a minute, and he was minutes away. She let out a held breath, trying to hold it together, she was so nervous.

She was back to spinning the coffee cup, faster now.

“Ma’am? You doing ok, hun?” A young woman’s voice suddenly asked.

The question made her jump in her seat, her head spinning to look up and over to her right side.

A more than a little top-heavy doe was now standing next her, wearing an apron and a nametag, one of the employees. Tombs was suddenly out of sorts, but she nodded.

“You sure?” The lady asked, Tombs’ anxiety skyrocketing under the scrutiny.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She replied, hoping she’d leave.

“Waiting on someone. Nervous.” She forced herself to confess.

Please go away.

“Well, ok, just holler if you need anything.” The lady told her, then thankfully walked away.

Tombs relaxed, exhaling, staring down at the lid of her coffee cup. She took a sip, the coffee doing nothing to ease her anxiety. She counted the rotations of the cup, tried to avoid counting the ticks of the clock. Every now and then the door would jingle, and her eyes would dart up from her cup and to the line of people waiting on coffee orders.

This droned on, an agonizing wait as she felt her cup grow lighter until the door jingled again and she looked up to see a tall blue figure step inside the coffee shop. Her blood suddenly ran cold as she stared back down at her cup. The logo of the coffee shop was staring back at her, her two thumbs straddling the decal as she felt frozen in time.

She’d asked for this, actually asked the guy on a date, or not even a date just to have coffee with her and now she was freaking out!

Why was she like this? Couldn’t she just be normal and do normal things like everyone else? Suddenly, it felt so painful to be surrounded by more than a dozen other people all engaged and normal, talking to each other or on their phones, just existing without the smothering weight of anxiety that left them gripping their cups until the waxy paper began to bow under the strain.

“Hey!” A deep voice told her, and she snapped her eyes back up.

The shark was standing beside the booth, setting a cup of coffee down before sliding into his side of the table.

“Hi.” She told him back.

She struggled to make eye contact with him, the shark watching her with confusion. Her face was burning hot, and she found herself going back to staring at her coffee cup.

“What’s up?” He asked her.

She started spinning the cup again in her hands.

“Yah, I mean, jus’ coffee. Whaz waitin’ for you.” She replied, forcing herself to talk.

She couldn’t hear the clock anymore, but she didn’t need to. The drumming in her chest was more than enough white noise to drown out most of room. The little booth felt claustrophobic now that she was sharing it with him, the illusion of tinnitus ringing in her ears even though everything was fine. Nothing was going south except for her, just people being people and a coffee cup spinning nervous circles between her fingers.

“Well, I’m here. This place seems nice.” He then told her.

It was a place she’d been to before, but only as a weird girl that stood in line until she could get her coffee at the counter and leave. Just tap to pay and bounce, minimal interaction, including placing her order online. Whatever would help get her inside and then outside that much faster so she could avoid people, always avoiding people whenever possible. When she couldn’t avoid, she hid. Inside her hoodie, her baggy boy pants, hair tucked inside of a knit cap.

“Yah.” She replied, hating the sound of her own voice as it landed in her ears.

Her vocal fry sounded as awful as she felt, like gravel under a shoe that didn’t belong in a girl’s voice. It made her ears fold flat to her head beneath her cap. At least no one could see it through the knit.

“Uh huh.” He told her, then took a drink from his cup.

She wasn’t just dying of anxiety, but embarrassment. She felt her face was red, why was she acting like this when she was the one that asked him here? People do this every day, all the time, why couldn’t she?

“Sorry.” She told him, sinking into her side of the booth, cup still spinning circles.

“You ok? You look like you’re about to pop.” He then told her.

She froze, the cup no longer spinning. Her eyes were glued to the lid now; she didn’t want to make eye contact anymore.

“Whaz that mean?” She managed to ask.

“You’re like a fuzzy tomato right now.” The shark told her.

Suddenly then, she was confused, the heat of what was left in her cup matched the burn on her face as she stared a hole through the lid. Her hands, anxious to move, began to spin the cup again.

“I just meant you’re blushing pretty hard. You don’t ask people out for coffee too often, do you?” He then asked, sipping at his own coffee.

She couldn’t look at him, only saw his big blue body in her peripheral vision. When he walked up, she’d seen him, gotten a good look at him. A white tee shirt with something on the front she couldn’t remember, and then some jeans a paler blue than his skin. Wasn’t she supposed to be attracted to him, wasn’t that why they’re both here? Can’t even look at him.

“Jus’, kinda stressin’. I get anxious.” She forced herself to explain, hating that her voice was the one he had to listen to.

Everything became like nails on chalkboard, her voice, the clock ticking, the people all around her talking, even the little scratching of her cup as it spun a circle on the tabletop.

“That sucks. You did always seem nervous when you’d come by the shop. The caffeine probably doesn’t help any.” He replied.

“No.” She agreed.

“You asked me out for coffee though. So, you weren’t that anxious.” The shark added, and she felt her face grow warmer.

Her mouth was dry, so she nervously lifted the cup and sipped at it. The heat of the coffee didn’t make her mouth feel any wetter. She adjusted, fidgeted in her seat a bit.

“Is worse when I don’t know people well.” She confessed, then swallowed the familiar sensation of dry spit.

She tried looking up at him, she couldn’t keep staring at the cup! There, his face, he was looking back at her, and she felt her face burn piping hot, and she broke eye contact. Best she could do was find other things to look at that weren’t her coffee cup, like his shoulder. She stared at his shoulder.

“Same. So, was the coffee date you trying to get to know me better?” He asked her.

It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so much! He was being so nice to her! He didn’t look angry or upset when she looked at him, so why was she like this? She wanted to curl into a ball and die, she wanted to die. Why did she ask him? She shouldn’t have even bothered, she should have known she’d be like this, she was always like this. Any time she tried to be brave, this is what happened!

“I… Yah.” She replied, her voice uneven, a terrible mask for the turmoil hiding behind it.

She’d gotten so good at hiding it. Years of just putting on a tightly fitted mask to cover her from head to toe so no one would ever know.

“That’s cool. My name’s Grant by the way. Didn’t figure you knew it since we never talked much at the shop.” He said, introducing himself.

Her ears perked up under the woolen fabric of her hat. She liked that, old memories of her childhood rising to the surface. She remembered watching Jurassic Park, back in a time when things were different. When she was different.

“I like it.” She told him in a whisper.

Her eyes were now focused on the narrow collar of his shirt, but she saw him smile in her peripheral. She blushed hotter as a result, her eyes lowering to the image on the front of his shirt. It was… the head of a black and red bird.

“I already know you’re Da-“ He began to say and her entire body lit up like a firecracker.

“No!” She stopped him before he could finish, her body was in full red alert.

Don’t say her name!

“Sorry?” He recoiled, and she felt herself die.

She wanted to die! Why did she snap at him!

“Tombs. Jus’ call me Tombs. I don’t like my name.” She stammered, then dipped her head down and went back to staring at her cup. She was mortified, the colors of her fur and face all draining pale and to the floor where they belonged.

“Ok, my bad. Tombs it is. Kind of a weird name for a girl, though.” He recovered, the coyote seeing him tilt in his seat to find a better look at her now that she was hiding her face with a view of a coffee cup.

“My teeth.” She whispered.

“Your what?” He asked her, and her pale face returned to burning bright red.

“Is my nickname. Cuz my teeth are straight.” She quickly replied, coming so close to forcing her mouth open into a smile to show how her teeth were perfectly straight like two rows of tombstones set perfectly in her mouth.

“Oh, yeah. I guess so.” He replied but didn’t sound convinced.

She didn’t know what else to say, all she could do was sit and stare at the stupid cup. All she could do was react to him, and now he was sipping from his own cup and not saying anything. The clock on the wall kept ticking, and she could count the seconds as they passed and she hated, hated, hated it! Her heart was pounding as the seconds closed in on a minute of silence and then finally broke sixty ticks of a tock, and she wanted to scream.

“So, are you just anxious with new people, or anxious when there’s lots of people?” He chose to break the silence, and she drew in a deep deep breath and tried to let it out slowly through her nose.

She wasn’t calm, she was losing it, had already lost it. Her teeth now clenching tight as she clung to the full body mask that kept herself hidden.

“Both.” She relaxed her jaws enough to quietly say.

“Probably shouldn’t have picked a coffee shop then.” He told her.

What was she supposed to say to that?

What was she supposed to do? Wasn’t coffee the thing everyone did, everything normal people did, like the normal people sitting around her talking and being so normal! Why couldn’t she be normal, why couldn’t she just talk to him like a normal person like everyone else?

“Yah.” Was all she could say.

“But that’s cool. So, like, you always anxious or just sometimes?” He asked her.

Heart pounding, she wanted to scream and cry. She wished she was home, she wished she was safe, wished she could just scream into her pillow and cry until she was too exhausted to do anything but lay there on her bed.

“Jus’ out. Around places. Not at home.” She confessed.

She was still just reacting to him, not really talking. Why couldn’t she just be normal! Her grip tightened on her coffee cup, the feel of its weight so light that there couldn’t be much left in it now.

“Oh, so it’s like agoraphobia then? I mean I’m not prying, I just trying to figure what’s up.” He then began to say.

A small laundry list of words fluttered through her head, all ending in either phobia or disorder. Between failed therapists and the internet, she was both un- and self-diagnosed. She was broken, and she’d been broken for a long time. In college she tried to use the free counseling to get help, but no one helped her. They didn’t know how to help her, and it only made her feel worse, so she gave up. She just clung to her mask even tighter because that was the only thing that made it bearable.

“Jus’ people suck, so I get anxious.” That’s what she told him.

He shrugged in her periphery.

“Yeah, a lot of people suck, sure. Glad you didn’t think I suck though, so that’s cool.” He replied.

She fidgeted in her seat, and tried to lift her eyes again, managed to make it to the bird on his chest but no further.

“Yah.” She told him.

She’s the one that sucked. If she wasn’t in this stupid coffee shop, she’d cry, that’s what she wanted to do, she just wanted to cry and beat her head against the nearest wall for being this way!

“Well, we both have our coffees. Maybe we can head out and just take a walk? Find somewhere with less people if that’ll help.” He then volunteered.

She did a dry swallow, eyes darting from the bird to his shoulder, then down to his coffee cup, then to her own.

“Where we gonna go?” She asked him.

“Could just hang out in the parking lot? I doubt they’ll call the cops on paying customers for loitering.” He told her.

The clock was ticking in the background, and the dull noise of people quietly roared around her. She lifted her cup and tried to sip, but there was hardly anything left in it except for a few drops. She’d long since drained the cup from her nervously sipping. She wished she still had something to drink, she wanted something to escape into, to retreat behind, but she couldn’t drink her coffee anymore.

“Ok.” She whispered.

“Sweet, then let’s go. Find some air.” He told her, then began to slide himself out of the booth.

She felt a powerful energy in her, all that pent up energy screaming at her to escape to safety. He’d given her an out, or at least an out to leave the coffee shop, to get away from the people, to get out of earshot of the stupid clock on the wall.

So, she pushed herself out of the booth and when she was ready, he invited her to go first. She rushed ahead, her pace quick until she passed by the first waste bin. She dropped the cup inside and found herself at the door leading out. The fresh air she was met with felt cold, washing over her as the door jingled shut behind her. It jingled a second time as Grant stepped outside to join her.

The shark walked past her, tall and blue, and began to make his way down the sidewalk towards the lot next to the building. He pivoted, looking to see if she was following. Her hands were back to being stuffed deep into the pockets of her hoodie, and she felt herself shrink under his gaze. She followed until she was next to him.

“So, is it just that people suck or is there something heavy going on?” He asked her as they walked.

She felt cold, staring at the sidewalk and counting the cracks in each of the concrete squares.

“Both.” She replied, a one-word answer that just meant she was broken on the inside.

“Ah, damn. Well, you don’t have to tell me, I just wanted to know why you were anxious so bad.” He told her.

“It’s ‘kay.” She replied.

He was putting up with so much awful bullshit from her. No one deserves to put up with this, just some broken girl’s mental problems. He was really nice and handsome and he’s here trying to be polite to a girl that can’t even exist properly. Her heart sank so low it reminded her of school, and then the memories sank it even lower.

“So, what do you do? You know what I do, what about you?” He then changed the subject.

Her heart wasn’t really invested in her job, it was just how to made the money she needed to eat.

“San Furnando One Call Services.” She told him.

It was a place that gave her a cubicle, a grey, beige box that let her hide from other people. Her every interaction was filtered through a computer screen and her headset, where no one could see her, stare at her, know anything about her at all. They didn’t know anything about her teeth, or how she dressed, or even her name.

“So, you work for the city then?” He asked, finding a spot of hand railing to lean against that separated the parking lot from the sidewalk.

Her ears twitched, work was work she didn’t care if it was for the city or not. It was just customer service with a manual and a website.

“Yah. I answer questions regarding our city services and take non-emergency complaints and forward them to the correct department for review.” She recited mechanically out of habit.

“Ok, so you can talk more, I just gotta make it about work.” He laughed.

Her face began to burn red.

“I- No, is a habit.” She told the truth.

“Nah, I get it. You probably have to say the same shit every phone call, like a tv commercial.” The shark told her.

“Yah.” Yeah.

“You enjoy it?” He asked.

She shrugged. No.

“No.” It was just something she had to do or she’d be homeless.

She couldn’t do any other work, not with how messed up and broken she was. She needed a cubicle job with a Human Resources department willing to make accommodation for her and her ‘disabilities’.

“Well, that sucks. I like being a mechanic, maybe if you shop around, you’ll find something more you like doin’.” He suggested.

“I have stuff.” She told him.

Not really thinking about work. Work was just work; it wasn’t supposed to be something she enjoyed.

“Oh? Got a side hustle? Or you just talking about your free time.” He added.

Another shrug.

“Both. Is the same thing.” She told him, think about the minis she was painting for Dwayne.

“And what’s that?” The sharked asked.

It was then that she shrugged, stuffing her hands deeper into her pockets. Would he even care? Most guys didn’t seem to like all the things she did, and Grant didn’t seem like he’d be any different. He was tall and fit, handsome, worked on cars and bikes for a living. He wasn’t the type of guy that would have much in common with her, she didn’t think.

“I paint. Little figurines.” She confessed.

“Figurines? Like the nerd stuff they post online?” He asked.

She flinched at hearing it called nerd stuff, but she nodded.

“Yah. For tabletop games. I have friends that pay me to paint their minis.” She told him, but it was kind of a lie. She’d only done it for Dwayne.

She’d like to paint for more people, it was nice making the money doing something she liked. But a lot of guys that are into minis just paint their own. She didn’t have the courage to try and make a business of what she knew how to do.

“Oh, cool. So, you play the tabletop stuff then?” The shark asked.

She shook her head. That would require her to not be a freak, someone normal that could sit at a table with a bunch of people and not go crazy. She couldn’t play Dungeons and Dragons, or tabletop, or even a card game. All of those things required her to be in a crowd, even if it was small. The longer she had to put up with it the more stressed she got.

“No. Jus’ like painting them.” She replied.

“Ah, ok. So, is that all you’re into? Or you got other hobbies?” He asked.

She wanted to change the subject; the attention he was putting onto her was growing too intense. If he just talked about himself, she could listen and relax, he had a nice voice. She liked hearing him talk.

“I guess. Old anime is cool.” She told him.

“Neat. I liked Power Rangers as a kid, but I don’t guess that’s the same thing.” He told her.

She shrugged. At least he knew something.

“Kinda. Some of it was filmed in Japan.” She replied.

She didn’t like sentai, unless it was disguised as something magical girl like Sailor Moon. Power Rangers wasn’t something she liked, but she knew enough trivia to know that they filmed all the costumed fighting and Megazord battles in Japan and then filmed all the stuff in America with American actors out of costume.

“Really? Huh, didn’t know that.” He replied.

“Yah.” She wished she’d not said anything now; he doesn’t like any of this stuff.

His attention shifted, gratefully away from her and down to his pocket. Her eyes moved from his shoulder and down his chest to see his hand swing over to his pocket to slip inside his jeans. She darted her eyes away at the dangerous sight of his crotch. He already thought she was a weirdo, she didn’t need him to think she was a pervert too.

“Hold on, someone keeps blowing up my phone.” He told her as he pulled out his phone to check it.

Was he lying to her? Was someone really trying to get in touch with him? He swiped a finger over the screen and started staring at his phone, but she couldn’t make eye contact. The coyote just waited for him to tell her the date was over.

“Well shit, got problems. I know we didn’t get to talk much, but I got a buddy that needs help with his Tacoma.” He confirmed her suspicions.

“It’s ‘kay.” She told him with a shrug.

She’d shrugged, but what could she have expected. What other way was this going to end? She’d been a mess from the very start, because she couldn’t be normal for even thirty minutes let alone however long they’d spent here at the coffee shop. He even had to take her outside because she was melting down indoors! It’s just a coffee shop…

“We have each other’s numbers though, so can try again another time.” He told her.

No, he wouldn’t. Why would he? What could he see in her except a dysfunctional person that does nothing but hide in her clothes, fakes her voice, just…

“Yah. Could try something.” Was all she was able to say.

He started typing something on his phone, then put it back into his pocket.

“Well, thanks for asking me out for coffee, Tombs. It was nice.” He told her, but he had to be lying.

Everything sucked about today. She sucked.

“Yah. Yer welcome dude.” She whispered to him.

She didn’t know what else to do, so she turned and started walking into the parking lot to find her car. She turned and looked back over her shoulder, saw Grant heading in a different direction towards a big motorcycle, the same one he’d been working on the day she’d asked him for coffee. She turned away from him, making a bee line to her car and unlocking it.

Soon as she crawled back into her car, the exhaustion set in as she closed the door shut behind her. As awful as it had gone, it got better once they walked outside. She’d gotten better, but still a loser that can’t act normal. The coyote sagged into her seat, drawing in slow breaths to calm herself down while she fumbled for her seatbelt. Maybe it hadn’t been that bad, as she clicked the seatbelt into place. They got to talk a little, even if it wasn’t much, and he was really nice to her.

He didn’t have to put up with her. If she could just act like everyone else, then maybe things could be better. After breathing for a long minute, she finally cranked her car.

But then there was a loud tapping at her driver’s side window, and she jumped out of her skin. She darted her eyes to the left and saw the lady from before standing outside her car, the same doe that had spoken to her while she’d been waiting for Grant. Her heart was still pounding from the fright, but she put her finger on the button and let the window roll down.

“I’m sorry I startled you, hun! Everyone inside just saw how uncomfortable you looked with that guy. We wanted to make sure you were ok before you left.” The doe told her.

She froze, the feel ice cold washing over her, she didn’t know what to say. She shook her head. The doe’s eyes then widened.

“Do you need us to call the police?” The woman then asked, leaning down to get a better look at her through the window.

Tombs panicked, now shaking her head violently.

“No, no! I don’t!” She spat out, now on the verge of tears. “I’m just weird!”

Her hands were shaking as she reached for the shifter.

“Honey, we’re just trying to make sure you’re ok.” The lady continued in a soft voice.

“I’m ok! I’m just fucked up, please leave me alone!” Tomb almost shouted as she burned hot and started mashing the button to roll the window back up.

The window was so slow, the doe watching her with concern through the rising glass. Tombs put the car into reverse, and the lady had to back away to give the car room. The coyote’s eyes were welling up with tears as she hastily pulled out of the spot. As she sped away, she didn’t dare look to see if he was still in the lot. Everything hurt.

He was so nice to her and all she did was make people think he was hurting her. She broke down and started crying as she made her way back home where she belonged.

Why couldn’t she be normal like everyone else?