When I first saw the boys, they came into the café along with two girls. They had one big, conglomerated order with a lot of nonfats and extra shots, which annoyed me slightly. What I noticed, though, was that the two boys were wearing uniforms from Dalton Academy. I only knew about the school because last summer I’d had a fling with a guy who went there. We’d both been counselors at a summer camp. Anyway, he’d had a photo in his cabin of a bunch of boys all in the navy-and-red blazers with the fancy embroidered emblem. It took me a moment to place the uniforms when I saw them, but once I remembered, I was sure of it.

“Medium drip?” The pale-skinned boy read off the coffee cup I set on the counter.

“That’s me,” the other boy replied, taking it and picking up a stir stick. “You guys better bring it at Sectionals…”

They walked away, and I wondered idly why some boys from a school over ninety minutes away were having coffee in Lima. It didn’t bother me too much, though, and after Casey had said my name twice, I snapped out of my thinking and went back to making drinks.

…

They came back in mid-February. The café was plastered in corny decorations, per our manager’s orders. I wasn’t a big fan of it, but it’s incredible how much revenue it brought in.

I was at the register, and I picked up a bit of their conversation as they stepped forward in line.

“Do you think it’s too much to sing to someone on Valentine’s Day?” The shorter, dark-haired one asked hesitantly.

“Not at all,” the taller one replied, sounding a bit breathless.

“What can I get you?” I asked them as they reached the counter.

The short one answered for them both. “A medium drip and a nonfat grande mocha for this guy,” he said, and then peeking at the pastries to my left he added, “and maybe I can get him to split one of those Cupid cookies.”

As I rang them up, I heard the taller and higher-pitched boy say to the other, “You know my coffee order?”

“Of course I do.” The short one replied nonchalantly. 

“That’ll be eight-forty,” I told them, and I noticed that the tall one seemed slightly in shock. He managed to reach towards his bag, though.

“Don’t even bother, dummy,” the short boy said, wallet already in hand and open.  “It’s on me. Keep the change,” he told me as he handed me a ten dollar bill.

As I happily picked out two bucks from the register and put them in the tip jar, the dark-haired boy walked away. The taller one lingered for a moment, however. Leaning forward, he said to me, “I do believe I have a new favorite holiday.”

Maybe it was the tip or the cute flirtatiousness between the boys, but either way…I didn’t mind the decorations so much anymore.

…

They were back again the day after Valentine’s Day. The short one seemed rather discontent. I was slightly distracted by other orders, but they seemed to be having quite a conversation.

“So it’s just like When Harry Met Sally,” the tall one was saying when they neared the front of the line.  “But I get to play Meg Ryan.”

The short one smiled, but then, his thick eyebrows furrowing, asked, “Don’t they…get together in the end?”

Mr. Meg Ryan didn’t reply, instead smiling coyly and then turning to me to order. “Could I get a nonfat mocha and a medium drip for Billy Crystal here.”

I punched in the order, trying not to smile as I heard the short one say, “Oh, you know my coffee order.”

As their receipt printed, the tall boy looked at the shorter, his face lighting up. “You know what? I think I’ve got something for us to do on Valentines day.” 

They stepped out of line and the next person came up. I could think of a few things they could do on Valentine’s Day.

…

The next time they came in, I was making drinks. It was a pretty busy day, so I didn’t notice them in line, but heard and saw them when they rounded the counter to wait for their drinks.

“I didn’t drink that much,” Harry was insisting. 

“Are you kidding?” Sally laughed. “You spent the entire night sucking Rachel Berry’s face! That, sir, is what we call rock bottom,” he said as he played with the sugar packets on the counter. I opened the cupboard below the counter, searching for non-fat whipped cream.

“Oh my God, speak of the devil…” I heard Harry say. When I stood, I saw that he was talking on a cell phone. “Hi, Rachel, Kurt and I were just talking about you.” They shared a smile.

I topped off the mocha and set their drinks on the counter. Harry was giggling.

“Is she drunk?” Sally asked, laughing, as they picked up their coffee.

“Shh!” Harry scolded him, trying to listen. “Um…yeah.” I heard him say into the phone as they walked away.

I went on to make the vanilla latte for the next customer, and lost track of the uniformed boys. Several minutes later, however, I noticed the dark-haired one when he stood up suddenly, picking up his bag. “I’d say ‘bye’, but I don’t want to make you angry,” he said to the other one loud enough for me to hear, with a slightly biting tone. He turned and walked out, and I was able to see the lost expression on the pale boy, left sitting alone at his table, before I had to go measure out coffee beans for the next man in line.

…

The next day, Sally was back, this time without Harry but a girl instead. They ordered and sat down and commenced to chat. The girl looked familiar-I’d seen her in the shop, possibly with the boys before. She probably went to McKinley High.

A bit later, Harry opened the door and walked in. I was ringing up the order for a blonde girl with a fur-trimmed jacket when the girl, followed by Sally, walked towards Harry.

He turned and saw her approaching. “Hey Rachel,” he said, grinning. “What’s going on? What-”

He was interrupted then, as she reached him and put her lips on his. I watched in astonishment as they kissed for a moment, and afforded a glance towards Sally-he was watching them too, rather apprehensively.

The brunettes pulled apart. The girl looked at Harry expectantly. He sort of stared at her for a moment, before nodding slightly. “Huh,” he finally said. “Yep, I’m gay. One-hundred percent gay.” He smiled at her then, his face lighting up. “Thank you so much for clearing that up for me, Rachel! Listen, save my space in line, will ya? I’ve gotta go hit the restroom.”

He turned and walked away, hand on his bag strap, smiling. The girl watched him go.

“That was hard, wasn’t it?” Sally said from behind her, his sympathy not seeming completely sincere.

She turned to face him. “Are you kidding?” She asked excitedly. “That was amazing. I am speechless. I just had a relationship with a guy who turned out to be gay! That is songwriting gold! Oh!” She reached up and pecked his cheek. “I have to go compose,” she told him, “but thank you. Thank you!”

She ran out of the shop. Sally looked after her, then smiled triumphantly before returning to his table to wait for Harry.

…

The next time they came in I was in the back organizing boxes of tea and instant coffee. I saw them through the open door into the shop. A blonde, severe-looking woman came up behind them and began talking to them, following them to the sweetener table after they got their coffee(yes, a non-fat mocha and a medium drip). I couldn’t hear anything they said, unfortunately.

…

It was a bit before I saw them again. They came in with three girls(not the infamous Rachel, however). There seemed to be a palpable difference in the boys. As they sat next to eachother at their table, I realized what it was. Beforehand, their relationship had always seemed to be some sort of flirty give-and-take, a tensioned balance between love and friendship. They no longer had that tension; they had lost balance and fallen over the edge into love. They were together.

I couldn’t spy on them much, but as I passed their table to restock some Thermoses, all I heard was the dark-haired one say, “Kurt needs to be safe,” in an honest, concerned tone, before glancing lovingly at the other boy.

Huh, Kurt. So Sally had a name.

…

They came in again on a spring day, and neither of them were in uniform, which was new. Kurt was very stylish and chic, and his boyfriend was adorable in a red cardigan. They ordered the usual, sat at a table, and Kurt commenced to tell some sort of story, from the looks of it.

I was wiping tables, making my way around the room. When I reached one close to them, I was surprised to hear that neither of them was speaking. The silence went on for a few seconds before Kurt’s high, clear voice sounded.

“I love you too,” he said simply.

And then my heart kind of burst.