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Chapter Three / Lemon


I sat on the bench on the front porch of the Frothy Monkey cafe on 8th Avenue South, my right knee bobbing with nerves. I looked at the time on my phone's lockscreen for about the millionth time. It was after ten and there was no sign of any of the Backstreet Boys – not to mention all five of them, like Nick had promised the day before. I sighed and pushed my phone into my pocket, pulling my hands up into the sleeves of my sweater and standing up, frustrated, deciding to leave and go back to the hotel room I'd gotten myself downtown… then thinking better of it, and quickly sitting back down on the bench. Just a few more minutes, just wait a few more minutes, I told myself.

People streamed by, going in and out of the little shop, barely noticing me at all as I continued to bob my leg and look around, waiting.

Obviously he'd just said that stuff about coming here to get rid of me. I thought back over our meeting at JJ's the day before and it occurred to me that I'd probably come off as annoying. I'm ridiculously good at that. Most people can't stand me, really. Anxiety and social awkwardness has this funny way of making someone a pariah which only makes the anxiety and the social awkwardness even more… well, awkward.

People just don't get it. I don't even get it and it's happening to me.

I hated myself for having taken the chance following Nick to the cafe and just blurting out my reason for being there. I should've hung back at the studio, should've just waited. I was always so fucking impatient. I smacked my palm against my forehead in a little beat. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I muttered under my breath, “Stupid, Lemon.”

There was footsteps on the porch and I looked up and a girl with bright pink hair and a nose ring was staring at me with wide eyes as she walked by, clutching her cup. Her eyes were so judgey, I realized what an idiot I must look like, and I promptly dropped my hand to my lap.

I should just go, I realized. They aren't coming.

It was then that Nick seemed to appear out of nowhere.

I was biting the edge of my thumbnail when he walked up the path from the sidewalk toward the cafe. It was just him and – I think it was AJ – the one with all the tattoos. He spotted me and smiled apologetically, then nudged AJ and nodded toward me. “Hey,” he said as he climbed up the steps and onto the porch of the little cafe.

I looked down the path behind them.

Nick glanced over his shoulder. “It's just us. The other guys didn't want coffee.” He shrugged. “AJ, this is Lemon. She's a fan. I think.”

“Lemon?” AJ said, eyes widening behind the thick black framed glasses he was wearing. “Your actual name is Lemon?”

“Like the pie,” I supplied.

“Well shit.” AJ looked at Nick, eyebrows raised, then turned back to me.

“And I'm not a fan,” I added, awkwardly delayed.

Another thing about me that annoys the hell out of people? I'm ridiculously blunt. My mother always used to bark at me for being so blunt. “Lemon!” she'd snap, “Think before you speak, baby girl!” But that was a lost art. Things just came out of my mouth.

Nick looked mildly surprised, “No?”

I shook my head. “Not really, no. Sorry. I mean, I respect you guys and all that, you're great singers, like especially, you know, for your time or whatever, but -” I shrugged.

“For our time?” AJ's voice was incredulous. “Jesus. Like we're motherfucking old or something...” He moved out of the way as a group of three college kids pushed by, all dressed in hipster clothes with big gauges in their ears. He glanced back at Nick, then me, and said, “Gettin' coffee,” and ducked through the door of the cafe.

Nick looked utterly confused. “Wait. If you aren't a fan… why'd you wanna meet the fellas for then?” He tilted his head and I was reminded of a dog we had when I was a kid – Pepe. She used to tilt her head side to side whenever you said keywords that she could understand.

I shrugged, “I wanted to meet Kevin,” I said.

Nick's confusion deepened, “Kevin? You a Broadway fan or something? You seen that movie he did? The vampire thingy?” he paused, “You like, got an eyebrow fetish or somethin'?”

I shook my head, “No… not really.”

Nick rubbed his chin.

Before he could ask more questions, though, someone else coming into the building recognized him and he turned to say hi to her and took a fast selfie while I stood there awkwardly, waiting for the girl to keep going. She looked over at me as Nick said goodbye to her, and went into the cafe just as AJ was coming out. They went through the same hi-snap-a-photo ritual while Nick held AJ's cup for him. Once the girl had finally actually gone inside, AJ took his cup back and Nick turned back to me.

“So what's the deal?” he asked, “Why Kevin?” It was clear by the way he asked that he wasn't used to people wanting to see Kevin more than him.

I shrugged and, before I could stop myself, because, like I said before, being blunt was my specialty, I blurted out, “I just wanted to meet my father.”

AJ choked on the mouthful of coffee he'd just gulped into his mouth and a spray of sweet potato latte showered both me and Nick and dripped down AJ's chin. He swept his palm over his lower jaw. “Jesus Christ, AJ!” Nick said, shaking the saliva-laced coffee drippings off him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” demanded AJ, staring at me, completely ignoring Nick's flapping arms and even my own appall at the spray that had just drenched me.

“I said I wanted to meet my father,” I repeated the words again and I tugged at my shirt front, beating at it with my palm, trying to get rid of all the coffee spray.

AJ looked at Nick, clearly weirded out, his eyes wide, mouth gaping open.

Nick was too agitated to notice - muttering, staring down at the shirt on his chest, obviously annoyed by AJ's inability to cover his mouth. Then, as though the words had a delayed time release quality to them, he looked up slowly from his shirt detailing and stared at me. “Hold up,” he said, staring at me with wide eyes. “Wait just a damn second. Are you saying --” he paused, and he looked at AJ, his face floundering, as though he was wishing that he, too, had a drink he could spit all over the place in shock.