by Lane, Sydney
“I must say for a Fluff, he is awfully adorable,” Kind continued, sing-songing the last two words, while tousling her auburn curls. “Fluff” had been the slang term for an albino for as long as I could remember. I think it’s because their hair and skin are so very white like a fluffy cotton ball or a fluffy white cloud. I don’t really know the origin. Maybe no one does, but that doesn’t stop most pigmented people from using it.
“And I must say,” I paused to make the statement more meaningful, “you say the same thing about half the guys who go to this hell hole, hussy,” I added with a wink. Kind rolled her eyes.
“Please.” She leaned over the table, closer to me. “He’s got a sexy strut, Jojo. You gotta see his butt in a pair of jeans. Better yet, out of them...”
“Kind!” I admonished with phony astonishment. She giggled.
“What? Aren’t you the least bit curious?” she questioned and leaned to peer past me.
“I really don’t care about his butt or his jeans,” I retorted as Kind blew out an exasperated breath.
“Humor me,” she insisted and I sighed.
I glanced at the table behind me, but I couldn’t see past all the heads. Dimly, I remembered Grey, but he had left town so long ago I couldn’t recall his face.
“It doesn’t matter how adorable he is, Kind. Admit it. He’s not only a Fluff, but he’s rich and the mayor’s son.”
As if any boy could be more unobtainable, I thought. “And anyway,” I continued. “What about Chase? Just another fling under the bleachers?”
With a blush, Kind waved off my musing and pointed at the boy in question. Chase sat just a table away scarfing down food with reckless abandon and laughing with his friends like he was giving the hyena table a run for its money.
“How could that ever be a fling?” she asked. As if on cue a blob of ketchup plopped onto Chase’s shirt. We both laughed. We finished our lunch quickly as the hour was almost up. I wasn’t looking forward to my next class, but I didn’t want to be late either.
The day passed slowly, but finally I was free from school, only to move on to my next torture—work. I worked at a coffee shop. The coffee shop, to be exact. I hated it in some ways, but I was glad to have the job. Any half-way decent work was hard to find in my pigmented condition, and I needed the money. The tiny check my mother received from my father’s pension every month wasn’t enough to pay the bills. Things were okay before Mom got sick because she was able to work. She worked two jobs for several years, but that’s all over. Before I started working, my mom and I would often go to bed hungry because we couldn’t afford to buy her medications and food. I never complained. Her health took precedence over my hollow stomach. The day I turned fifteen, the legal age of employment, I got my job at the Lotus. We still struggled, but it wasn’t as bad as before.
I’d always thought it was my pale green eyes that had given me any chance in this world. I considered my looks as they reflected back at me from the sheen in the espresso machine. Unexceptional by today’s standards of beauty, but I’d never felt unattractive. Light brown hair grew long and wavy to the middle of my back, a handful of freckles graced my dimpled cheeks and the bridge of my nose, and soft lips drooped into a frown and of course, green eyes.
“Almost light enough to be decent,” a teacher had said to me once after looking me up and down with a sneer. She was most definitely decent. Pale white hair tied back with a dainty clip. Eyes so light just a hint of blue was evident in the right sunlight. Her skin was alabaster and lacked even a freckle on her nose. Of course something like that could easily be removed and often was shortly after birth or as soon as it was discovered. She wasn’t perfect herself, but she was acceptable. Only a completely albino citizen with pink eyes was given a one hundred percent degree of purity and all the perks such a lack of pigment could provide. They were guaranteed a top education, high-paying jobs, the finest homes, and the respect of all.
Albinos were the clear majority and well, majority rules. How many years had it been since a Pig was elected president? Long before my birth, but it did happen. We’d always been taught that albinism was the natural evolutionary course of our species. That’s what divided us, the main reason Pigs were considered second class. We were less evolved. Degenerates. Maybe that meant I was defective. Whatever it meant, it didn’t really matter. I still had to stand behind a coffee bar, hands on my hips and deal with the first wave of after-school coffee fiends as they filtered through the glass door.
The Lotus Coffee and Tea was our small town’s most popular hangout. It sat alone on a quiet street just a few blocks from our picturesque main street. The owners, Sala Jaeger and his wife Gayda transformed an old hole-in-the-wall diner into a swank sanctuary more than fifteen years ago. The shop was decorated in an Eastern Indian motif. Along one wall was a carved teak bar with a purple top. Covering the floor was a ruby red carpet. Above, gold and silver ceiling panels shone in the soft light and low wooden tables were spread throughout the room. Each one was decorated with intricate carvings painted with bright purple, fuchsia, and gold. Along two walls, a spacious wraparound bench sat low, almost like a bed, with an elaborately embroidered cushion and dozens and dozens of pillows in rich tones thrown into haphazard piles. Silky drapes of fabric hung down from the ceiling like vibrant cloth waterfalls. It was the gaudiest place in town, but I liked its garish charm. I didn’t even mind the sparkly plastic bindi I had to stick between my eyebrows at the start of every shift. The work was easy and I adored the Jaegers. If it weren’t for the customers, my job would be perfect.
I pulled my long hair into a low ponytail and took a deep breath to steel myself against the onslaught. That’s when I saw him. Following a crowd of lively kids through the door was Grey Redcrest. I hadn’t seen him since elementary school, but I knew him instantly. Even without the vague memory I had of him, this town was small enough that a new face easily stood out. I felt my mouth go dry as an intense wave of anticipation coursed through me. Silly. Just another boy. Another Fluff. But, Kind was right.
Grey was adorable.
“Geana?” I called from the counter. A tall girl with brilliant white pigtails took her drink without even a nod or a thank you. What’s new?
A familiar bubble of sarcasm escapes my lips. “You’re welcome,” I said. She looked over her shoulder with astounded wide eyes and huffed.
My mousey coworker, Alisha, was mixing up a green tea smoothie when Grey approached the counter so I reluctantly turned to take his order. Something about him made me feel shy, an unfamiliar emotion. He was surrounded by a group of kids from school. One particularly snotty girl spoke first.
“Hey you, give me a caramel latte. Extra foam, extra hot.”
“Name?” I managed, but just barely. I couldn’t even look up from the register.
“Cass with a C,” she offered arrogantly. I could almost thank her. I felt a familiar pique come back to me.
“Fancy,” I said too sweetly and held out my hand for the money she was pulling out of her sparkly pink wallet. Cass flashed me a sour smile.
“Next,” I continued. I refused to let Grey’s presence affect me any longer.
“It’s Bryce. Make me a mint brownie mocha. Large,” an albino boy with an athletic body and braces demanded as he tossed a credit card on to the counter. The card slid swiftly across it and onto the floor. I just stared at him. I wasn’t about to pick it up. I was about to have him come around and get it off the floor himself when Alisha grabbed the card and put it in my hand. I had to hide a snicker with a cough, because the name on the card was Bryce Price. I looked up at the tall, muscular boy with his dark pink eyes and his bad skin as I swiped it. I saw Bryce and Alisha exchanged a brief uneasy look, but neither one said anything. They must have known I was laughing at him. Oh well. Gayda wouldn’t care.
“Here you go,” I said as I handed Bryce Price his credit card.
“Next.”
“Large chai tea,” the next girl demanded.
The rest of the group ordered one after another. Iced vanilla latte for the short boy with white curls, a brown sugar blended ice for the chubby girl with long pale hair and vague blue eyes, a blended vanilla bean for a little blonde with a short cropped pixie cut. All the orders were in, but one.
I looked up through my lashes as he took his turn at the counter. His eyes were on the menu as his new friends offered suggestions. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was tall, six feet and his fair skin was the most beautiful shade I had ever seen. He was as pale as his friends, but somehow his pallor wasn’t as dull as theirs. Of course, his hair was a brilliant white. It was very straight and parted on the side. The right side was cut shorter than the left leaving the longer hair hanging over part of his face. He ran his fingers through it. The hair fell immediately back over his ice blue eyes. His eyes. They were gorgeous.
“Well, I’d like an iced coffee with three sugars, please.” The words rolled off his tongue cool and soft like an angel. Get it together, I screamed at myself. Like an Angel? Humph! I had clearly read too many silly love stories. My internal criticism sobered me so I didn’t sound like a total idiot when I spoke.
“Sure, anything else?” Anything else? I never upsell. Joanne, you have lost it, I thought. I also never internalize in the third person either.
Grey shook his head no.
“Name?” I asked, even though I already knew it.
“Grey,” he said. I looked up just in time to see him roll his eyes and add, “With an E” under his breath. He shot a quick glance at Cass who was impatiently waiting for her drink. She stood with one hand on her hip, fingers rapping unconsciously against her jeans in acute agitation. In her other hand was a cell phone, pink and sparkly to match her wallet. I was the only one who heard; the rest of his group had already headed down to the pickup area at the other end of the counter where Cass stood. With a wink, he followed.
Oh. My. Gosh. What was that? I couldn’t believe he just said that. I had to laugh out loud. Alisha eyed me with wary disbelief. I wasn’t much for giggling. Rather than explain I shook my head and helped her prepare the drinks.
I watched him from the corner of my eye for the next hour or so. Lounging in a cozy corner Grey and his friends seem to be having a wonderful time. He smiled often, and I hid behind the machinery. He was just so beautiful. His long white lashes were mesmerizing. His vibrant pale blue eyes gleamed. The way his thick lips pulled up into a smile made me want to smile too. Grey’s chin looked narrow next to those lips, but the line of his jaw was strong and angular. Could there be a more perfect face? I didn’t think that was possible. I caught a glimpse of more than just his blatant good looks and solid tall body. There was something more that I couldn’t put my finger on. Arrogance, maybe? No. Confidence? I liked that. He seemed so at ease sitting amongst his new friends. Relaxed and enjoying himself. He didn’t speak often, but when he did he commanded all of their attention.
I went into the backroom to grab a bottle of vanilla syrup. On my way back I snuck a glimpse of him through the little window in the door and he caught me. He looked at me for just a moment with a strange mix of uncertainty and enchantment. Then he smiled. I ducked out of view immediately, but his stare had seared right through me. For seventeen years I had tried to build an air-tight wall around me, but that one look crumbled it into rubble.
I was almost relieved when he finally got up and headed for the door. Almost. What I was not prepared for was the surge of jealously I felt as he held that door open for Hanna Fry. Ugh. Not only was she the most beautiful girl in school, but she was also the biggest phony I had ever known. Such a snake in the grass. Sugar-soaked words rolled off her forked tongue as they disappeared out the door. Well, it didn’t say much for his character if he was already fooled by that little viper.
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