Heartbreak Café

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Heartbreak Café Page 5

by A. R. Perry


  “Just us?” The thought of Jesse tagging along sends fire racing through my veins. Wonder if Braden even knows about our past. He has to. They’re best friends.

  “Do you see anyone else around?” Braden motions around us.

  Well, technically there are several students sitting at various desks, but I get what he’s saying. I simply can’t figure out why he’s saying it. Everything feels wrong. I’m waiting for his friends to jump out and scream got ya!

  “Um, really sweet offer, but also a lot of effort. The bus should be here soon.” I peek at my phone confirming the time. Yup. Ten minutes. I’ve memorized the damn schedule by this point.

  “No effort. Plus, I’m starving and this way I can thank you for helping me. You’re saving my butt so the least I can do is save you from the dreaded bus twice a week.”

  Why is he making this so difficult to say no?

  “That’s sweet of you, Braden.” Zari’s voice cuts through the silence of the library.

  My eyes flit to her, then the rest of the room, catching other students staring. We’re doing a crap job of whispering. But that doesn’t give Zari the right to butt in where she isn’t wanted. There is no good reason Braden would want to spend extra time with me. Can’t she see that?

  “I said that already,” I say through gritted teeth. “But it’s also unnecessary.” I sling on my backpack. “The bus will be here in five.”

  “I’ll walk you out then.” Braden mirrors me, pulling the strap of his messenger bag across his broad chest.

  Giving up, I wave him forward, following him after I shoot Zari a nasty look. She winks then turns back to her task and student. Of course, she would only see hearts and rainbows. She’s been dating the same guy since puberty and has never been on the receiving end of a broken heart or a bad boy out for one thing.

  Braden holds the door open for me, accompanied with an easy smile. Try as I might, I can’t keep the scowl from my face. Something is fishy here. My eyes sweep our surroundings looking for Jesse or one of his other friends. I half expect one of them to be lurking with their phone ready to record whatever prank is up his sleeve.

  Instead, I’m greeted with a deserted campus. The seniors with half days are long gone and everyone else is in class. Just me and Braden walking so close our shoulders bump every few steps.

  The city bus stop is a few blocks over. On the rare occasions I’ve taken the school bus, I hated it. Another form of hierarchy where those deemed losers are pushed around. The city bus is so much more relaxing. A bunch of people who mind their own business and focus on themselves. It’s peaceful.

  Which is the exact reason my heart plunges to my feet when we round the corner and I see the bus taking off.

  Really?

  The one time the bus is early, I’m standing next to Braden who seems incapable of containing his smile.

  “That your bus?”

  “Uh-huh,” I grit out. Perfect. Freaking perfect. In the middle of the day it will be at least another hour before the next bus.

  Braden jingles his keys in front of my face, hanging them from his pointer finger and making me want to grab them and chuck them across the street into the overgrown field.

  “Fine. Whatever,” I grumble, giving in because I don’t want to sit around for an hour and I have a feeling he would insist on sitting with me. I motion back toward school, but don’t wait for him before stomping off.

  Totally acting like a child, but after the past few days I don’t think I have control of my emotions anymore.

  Braden catches up with a few long strides. With legs like that he should be into sports. Strange that he socializes with jocks but doesn’t play. I also find it odd that on a beautiful day, he would rather hang with me and not one of the many girls who would gladly throw themselves at him.

  “What are you in the mood for?” He stops by an old silver Honda CR-V that’s seen better days.

  What I want to say is a burger with a giant helping of fries, but Jesse’s voice keeps ringing in my head so I shrug and mumble, “Whatever sounds good to you.”

  He laughs as he opens the passenger door for me. “I asked what you wanted.”

  “How about Elements? They have great lettuce wraps,” I say once he’s settled in the driver’s seat. His nose wrinkles, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t pull out his phone or ask for directions either so I assume he knows where he’s going.

  The radio is on low, playing a familiar pop song from childhood and Braden seems content to drive in silence. I take the time to survey his car. It’s neat, that’s the first thing I notice. The outside may be a little beat-up, but the inside shines as if it’s recently been cleaned. Something fragrant also fills the air. Not sweet or the ever popular new car smell. It smells fresh, perhaps his body spray or whatever he washes his clothes in. That thought has me cutting off my deep breathing before he notices. Because if that isn’t a creeper move, I don’t know what is.

  After a brief drive up 215, Braden pulls into the near empty parking lot of the restaurant I suggested. Truth is, I’ve never been here, but I’ve passed it numerous times on the bus. Seems to be pretty busy during peak times so they must be on to something.

  Braden’s lips turn down as he watches two girls from the cheerleading team walk out of the front doors clutching plastic cups filled with a clear liquid. Probably water. I swear that’s all I ever see those girls drink whether it be sparkling or flat. Clear liquids for days. They have to be the most hydrated people on the planet.

  “You sure you want to eat here?” he asks, gaze locked on the building with his hand hovering over the key still in the ignition as if he expects me to change my mind.

  “Yup.” I prop open the door and hop out before he has a chance to ask me again. Now I know for a fact he expected me to pick something full of calories. I also know that Jesse must have mentioned my love of red meat.

  Braden trails behind me as I walk the short distance to the front. Once I reach the door, he speeds up and catches the handle before I can.

  “After you.”

  I shoot him a weird look as I slip past. No boy has ever held a door open for me. And he’s done it twice today. I kind of figured it was only in the movies.

  The line is short, which is terrible because I have no idea what to order. A black menu with colorful chalk writing above the counter lists their items, but it’s all full of weird crap like sprouts and beets. I mean, who eats beets willingly?

  Braden’s brows are just as squished in as his nose. He slides in close, leaning down to where his lips brush against my ear making me shiver. “What the hell is tempeh?”

  As if I know. But can I come out and tell him that? No. Because I was stupid to suggest this restaurant, which would mean I know something about its weird, plant-based ingredients.

  I mumble something about tofu as I move to the counter. I settle on the least disgusting wrap that includes strawberries, then turn to Braden, with eyebrows arched. At this point I’m seeing how far I can push this. I’m going to be miserable eating the damn thing so he might as well be too.

  “Whatever she’s having,” he says to the woman behind the counter. When he throws in a smile, I swear she blushes as red as the damn strawberries I’m about to ingest.

  Rolling my eyes, I twist around to grab my wallet, but Braden’s hand shoots out to stop me.

  “I said I wanted to take you to lunch as a thank-you. It’s on me.”

  It takes everything in me not to pout. Such a waste of money. I should have chosen In-N-Out Burger. At least my body would recognize what I’m ingesting.

  Braden grabs the number card the woman hands him and we head off in search of a table. We have the pick of the place, but he settles on one in the back by the window.

  Like animals at the zoo. Fun.

  “So, do you really think you can help me pass this class?”

  “Of course.” Sure, it sounds cocky, but English is my strongest subject. Even with his dyslexia, I should be able to coa
ch him enough that his papers make up for any mistakes he makes on the tests when I’m not around.

  “Good.” He nods, seeming lost in thought for a few seconds. “So, any plans for this weekend?”

  “It’s Tuesday.”

  “So,” he laughs. “Are you more of a spur-of-the-moment girl?”

  I’m more of a work all weekend then binge watch TV girl, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Sure.”

  “I wish I was more like that. My life is planned out most of the time.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Um…” He shifts on the bench a few times. “Just easier, I guess. When you’re invited to hang out all the time, you have to prioritize.”

  Ahh. Mr. Cocky. I was starting to wonder where he went.

  “That’s nice.” My phone buzzes in my pocket and even though my mom’s voice echoes in my head telling me how rude it is to be on the phone when out to eat, I slide it out.

  There’s a message from Devon. Never a good sign.

  Devon: What are u doing out with Braden?

  How the hell did he find out? Then I remember the cheerleaders. They must have some crazy eagle eyesight. And big mouths.

  I’m about to tell him that I’m tutoring Braden when his plea to keep things between us rises past the panic.

  “Um…so what do you want me to tell people when they ask why we’re hanging out?”

  “What do you mean?” He tears a piece of his receipt and rolls it into a ball before flicking it across the table.

  “People are going to ask questions. We don’t exactly run in the same groups.”

  “So tell them nothing. It’s none of their business.”

  “Do you not get how high school gossip works? Probably not, most of the time whatever is circulating is about how awesome you are.”

  He grins and leans forward. “You think I’m awesome?”

  “No,” I correct. “I said the gossip around school is about how awesome everyone else thinks you are. I’m Switzerland and generally try to stay out of it, but people are going to notice. So what do you want me to say?”

  “Say we’re lab partners and working on homework.” He leans back, his brows back to their furrowed state.

  I wish I had time to think about what that look means but my phone has gone off two more times since I read Devon’s last message. I glance down and sure enough there are two new messages from him.

  Devon: Well?

  Devon: Since when do u ingest anything green from the dirt?

  Jesus. I liked it better when no one knew me or cared.

  Me: Bio partner. Studying.

  Devon’s response is instantaneous.

  Devon: Ur such a liar. Better be careful or the whole Jesse fiasco will seem like a cakewalk.

  Fantastic. I toss my phone in my backpack. I don’t need Devon reminding me of the crapshow that was Jesse. Jesse already enjoys his daily reminder.

  “All sorted out?” Braden asks.

  I’m about to tell him no, that as expected, his excuse is as thin as cellophane when our number is called. He hops up and jogs over to Miss Googly Eyes, granting her another full-toothed smile before returning with our tray of grass.

  “Yum.” He plops the tray down, grimacing at the contents.

  They don’t look any better than they sounded when I read them. Whatever. In too deep now to back out.

  I grab one of them and take a huge bite without thinking too hard. It tastes worse than it sounded or looked, but I manage to chew and swallow without gagging. Braden watches me with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He can read me too well. It’s unnerving.

  “So good.” I take another huge bite. This time I catch a radish and can’t help but cringe.

  “I’m not eating that.” Braden pushes the tray toward me. “And you’re not either.” He grabs his bag and slides out of the booth.

  I remain seated staring at his outstretched hand.

  “What?” I manage after swallowing the half-chewed bite.

  “You hate this place and so do I. My ex used to make me come here all the time and somehow she liked it. So I can tell by that almost green coloring you got going on that this place isn’t your scene.”

  He’s been here before? So his whole act was just to break me? Well screw him. I take another bite, catching the time on my phone. There’s a bus stop near here and should be rolling through anytime.

  I toss the tiny bit of the wrap left onto the tray and stand. “I gotta get home. The bus runs right through here. So thanks for lunch…I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Stella, wait.” He reaches for my arm, but I dodge him and beeline for the door. He calls my name again, but when I don’t turn or acknowledge him, he gives up.

  I race across the parking lot and to the sidewalk where a group of people are waiting on the bus. Using them as cover, I squish into the crowd and step up to the pole with the times for the buses, pretending to read the routs.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a silver SUV pull out of the lot and turn in the opposite direction than I’m headed.

  Good.

  Now all I have to do is figure out how to get out of being Braden’s tutor without screwing him over. Even though I still have a feeling he’s messing with me, I don’t want him to fail. No one would stoop so low as to fake a learning disability, so I have to believe it’s real. I want him to pass, I just want him to find help elsewhere.

  As the bus rolls to a stop, I hammer out a plan to appeal to Zari before I go to Mrs. Rivera. Maybe Zari will switch students with me and that way I know he’s in the hands of someone even better than me.

  Devon wasn’t waiting for me this morning with my glorious cup of coffee. Guess it was too good to last the whole year.

  Problem is, he seems to be avoiding me and I haven’t gotten any gossip updates all day. Zari, on the other hand, wouldn’t leave me alone. I managed to duck out without answering any real questions, but as I stroll through the front doors of the café there will be no buffer or running. I’ll be stuck with her and those questions for five hours.

  If only that was my only concern today.

  Shredder is standing in the lobby waiting as I step inside. Lips pulled back into a snarl. Black eyes narrowed into slits. I had almost forgotten about the whole write-up thing after yesterday. From the looks of it, she’s had two days to stew.

  “Office. Now.” She doesn’t wait for a response before turning on her gross, worn-out nonslip atrocities and stomping off to the back.

  I catch Zari staring wide-eyed. The schedule normally has her start after me, but I guess my dear old boss couldn’t stand the thought of waiting thirty minutes to rip into me.

  I give her a shrug and a half smile as I slip past the counter headed for the back. I’m not surprised when I find Mr. Lee. True to her word, she got to him before I could.

  “Stella, take a seat.” Mr. Lee points to a chair that’s been crammed into the corner of the already overflowing office. I’m kind of hoping the meeting goes Shredder’s way at this point otherwise we might be out of oxygen the moment she starts screaming.

  “Do you know why we’re here?” he asks, voice solemn, a tone I’ve never heard coming from him.

  Because Melody is psycho?

  I don’t say that though. I simply shake my head. The fewer words I say the less opportunity I have to shove my foot into my mouth.

  Mr. Lee gives a slight nod before turning to grab the dreaded white piece of paper. “Seems that there might have been an altercation on Monday. Ms. Jones informed me that she asked you to do something and you refused. When she called you back to sign the verbal write-up you tore it up and then clocked out early.”

  He pauses and I’m sure he sees the shock on my face. Leave it to Shredder to skew the truth.

  “That’s not exactly what happened.”

  “Oh, yes it was!” she butts in, but Mr. Lee holds up a hand silencing us.

  “Either way, this is unacceptable behavior. I have no choice but to up the verb
al to a written. And from here on out, I expect more from you.” He passes me the paper, which I reluctantly take.

  I catch the smirk Shredder tries to hide behind her hand as I sign the stupid paper. Of course she had to tarnish my perfect record. I’ve been working for Mr. Lee far longer than her, but for some reason we’ve butted heads since day one.

  “Okay. Head out front and have a great shift.”

  I give him a salute and try my best not to show my irritation. I will not let her win.

  Zari is all over me the second I step out front. I wave her off as I shove my backpack under the counter.

  “What was that about?”

  “Monday.” I tie my apron in a loose bow before clocking in.

  “Oh.” Zari’s pretty face scrunches in a mix of confusion and worry. “What happened Monday? You never told me.”

  “Just the usual. Melody hates me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you.”

  “Uh-huh.” I grab a towel and wipe down the counters, mentally counting all the things that the opening team didn’t do. Once again we’ll be left with twice the amount of side work.

  “But everything’s okay now?”

  “Yeah.” No point telling her I got written up. Poor little thing can’t handle news.

  Her expression softens and I know she’s two seconds away from launching into an interrogation about yesterday when I’m saved by a rowdy group of college kids. They look as if they partied a little too aggressively and slept half the day. But if it gets me out of talking I’ll take it.

  It takes us at least half an hour to serve everyone, but that’s mostly because I took my sweet time making sure every drink was perfect and then snuck away to empty the trash and straighten up the seating area. When all seems lost and there’s a lull that will lead into a conversation, Zari’s pulled into the back to do dishes.

  Praise the Lord.

  With Zari preoccupied, I man the register, doing nothing because I want to save side work for when she’s out front. A little calculated, yes, and I love her to death, but if I get into the whole thing I’ll have to tell her why I ran and even after all this time I’m not sure she knows everything that went down with Jesse and me.

 

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