Read Never Enough for Free Online Page B

pair, me being a foot shorter and not nearly as skinny. My face warmed at the thought of us as a pair, especially now, off alone together. Practically a date, even if he hadn’t called it one.
    He rounded a corner off of Main Street and headed for an unmarked door. I’d never noticed or been in the building, so a rush of nervousness hit me. Where is he taking me?
    Marcus pushed the thick wooden door open, and the colors inside hit me like a palpable sunrise, calming my anxiety. I stepped into what appeared to be another world.
    The strong coffee aroma overtook me as the door closed behind us. The bright yellows and oranges and reds on the walls were unlike colors I’d seen in any kind of business establishment. Artwork, large and small, covered every wall, crammed next to one another like cars on a busy street during rush hour.
    There were tables here and there, brown and distressed, not at all matching the atmosphere of the walls. Two old men played checkers at a corner table, but we were otherwise alone. Marcus led me to the counter and one of the old men stopped his checkers game to meet us on the other side.
    “You got money?” Marcus asked me. I blinked a couple of times and then fumbled in my pocket for my last few dollars. We both shifted to get our money and our arms touched. It gave me goose bumps. Marcus cleared his throat, ordered ustwo large dark-roast coffees with cream and sugar, and put our money in a pile to pay for them. The old man puttered behind the counter, working on our order.
    While we waited in silence, I wondered who Marcus had brought here before. It didn’t seem like he had many friends, and I couldn’t really picture him on a date. Did he actually like me, and he was too shy to say it, or was this just a friendship thing? It was hard to tell with him.
    Finally the old man put two tall mugs on the counter, and without another word, toddled back to his game. Marcus took one mug, left mine on the counter, and headed to a table near the front window. I waited for a second, to see if he’d turn back for me. Finally, I followed, trying not to spill the hot drink on myself.
    Okay, definitely not a date.
    We sat and looked at our coffees. Said nothing. Looked out the window at a small walkway and the side of another brick building. Shadows moved across the brick wall as people walked along the main street at the end of the alley. Real exciting stuff. I wondered what Claire was doing now. Was she still at football practice? Was she clapping and shouting to Josh from the sidelines? I waited until Marcus started to drink and followed suit.
    I cringed at the burn of the liquid on my tongue and put it down with a scowl.
    Marcus snickered. “Sip,” he said. “Coffee is for sipping.”
    I was sixteen, not four. And I knew how to drink a hot drink, thank you very much. But I guess I was distracted and nervous. We sat and stared out the window some more.
    “I’m not gay, you know,” Marcus said, breaking the silence.
    My eyes popped open. He must have seen me in the hall this morning when the jocks were picking on him. Still, I was so surprised that he brought it up that I got tongue-tied. How could he be so casual about it? “I—I know,” I said finally.
    More silence. I took another drink to fill the space, this time just a sip.
    “I like to come here.” He glanced around. “You see that?” He pointed to a large painting across the room. I nodded. “That’s Michelangelo’s painting of Daniel the prophet. It’s not real, but it’s a good reproduction. At least Armando says so.”
    I stared across at the painting, displayed in an old wooden frame. “Who’s Armando?”
    Marcus motioned toward the checkers game, to the guy who had made our coffee. “He knows all the art. Which one do you like?”
    I studied the walls, recognizing several pieces, but my eyes skimmed over those. I wanted to find something different. Something unusual. At last I settled on a frame behind Marcus.
    “The one