Jaz & Miguel by R. D. Raven

What's up with his family?"
    Sandile cleared his throat. "It's just—his mom and sister
passed away a few years back. It's best to leave it as an untouched subject."
    Jaz sensed Sandile's own discomfort clearly, and decided to drop the
questions.
    "Well, I have an ulterior motive for coming today," she
said. "I want to find what makes you guys so close. I think you're both secretly
gay," she said.
    Sandile laughed through his nose. "Good one," he said,
slapping the steering wheel. "Definitely tell him that. He'll like it."
     
    Even though she'd chosen a flowery sundress because of the
surprisingly warm weather, Jaz felt suddenly overdressed when she saw Miguel in
nothing but faded Levis and a gray T-shirt. That, and the strange sensation she
felt in her chest when she saw the blonde that he was sitting with, made her
feel a little self-conscious. It was ridiculous of her to feel this way around
him. Sandile had made it clear—and said that he'd made it clear to Miguel—that
there was no pressure. That he was a boy and she a girl did not mean they had
to call this thing a date . It wasn't a date.
That had been the deal. They would just be two friends out for coffee. Jaz
would be doing Sandile a favor—had those not been his words?
    Standing there now, purse clutched in front of her, looking at
Miguel's own curls as he and the blonde (that must be Elize) laughed as
they sat at their wooden table, it struck her that two single heterosexuals,
alone, out for a cup of coffee, had never been (and never would be!)
anything but a date.
    Damn it. She was such an idiot.
    She felt the strap of her leather purse moisten in her hands as she
gripped it. The rest of her body seemed also to have broken out in a sweat, a
cool breeze from somewhere hitting the nape of her neck and sending a chill
down her spine, finally making her entire body shiver.
    Why had she spent so long ensuring her eyeshadow looked just right
today, or wondering if the dress she'd chosen made her look fat?
    And he? Miguel looked like he was about to roll in the mud with some
pigs. He looked like he'd put as much attention into looking good as he'd put
into— I don't know —throwing a basketball at someone's head!
    "Hi," said Miguel, standing from his chair and putting his
hand out to shake Jaz's.
    Well, that was at least more chivalrous than yesterday.
    The blonde literally glowed when she saw Sandile. He put his
arms around her and they kissed. Jaz shook Miguel's hand, hoping he wouldn't
notice how moist hers was. They stood around for a bit, hoping Elize and
Sandile would soon finish, but then Miguel pulled a chair out for her when that
seemed unlikely.
    "You look nice," he said, an air of calmness now on his
face, completely unlike the angry stiff she'd met the day before.
    "Thank you." She wiped her hands on her dress under the
table. She was sitting unbelievably close to him. And he was wearing quite an
aftershave (or cologne). As its aroma wafted into her mind, she felt briefly
lightheaded.
    They sat in silence awhile, Elize and Sandile still standing and
kissing. Miguel cleared his throat very obviously, and they chuckled. Elize
(whose cheeks had gone very pink by now) smiled as Sandile pulled away from
her, never letting his gaze leave her face, and then Sandile finally introduced
her.
    Jaz could've sworn she'd seen the man's dusky skin go slightly red
(the second time today).
    Elize's skin, however, was unmistakably red.
    "I've been dying to meet you!" said Elize. "Miguel
was telling me all about you."
    He was? And what did he say? How long
did he talk about me? Did he introduce me as Sandile's friend or … as something
else?
    Jaz looked at Miguel and his expression betrayed nothing. "I
told her you were from America," he said as he played with the straw of
whatever clear-colored sparkling drink he was having. He looked so casual, so
relaxed, nothing at all compared to the person she'd met yesterday.
    Jaz noticed that he'd cut himself just slightly below