by A. R. Perry
“Okay. But just remember what we talked about. No boys. Not until after college. I warned you about this already and the first chance you got, you jumped right in with a boy that—”
“Got it, Mom.” I toss my wet clothes in a messy pile on the ground. “I got it. And there’s nothing to tell. I have homework.”
She gives me a slight smile, but her gaze travels over my face, searching for any sign of a lie. When she’s accepted what I told her, she sighs and turns back into her room, shutting the door behind her.
I shut and lock mine as well, not wanting to give her the chance to barge in if she thinks of an add-on to her lecture. With a sigh of my own, I collapse on my bed. The box spring squeaks underneath me as I roll into a more comfortable position. With my head tucked into the crook of my elbow, I’m consumed with the smell of Braden. I really should change, but something about it calms me.
It’s dumb.
It’s irrational.
Deep inside I have a feeling I’ll come to regret letting him get even the slightest bit close to me. But after spending so long isolated from almost everyone at school, it kind of feels nice having someone else besides Zari I can relate to. Even if it’s just schoolwork.
Braden walks into the café soon after a huge rush of college students leave. I’m so busy cleaning up the pitcher of milk I spilled I don’t notice him until Zari clears her throat and elbows me in the side.
My attention snaps to her as she nods her chin toward the door. Braden waves, tugging his backpack tighter on his shoulder with his other hand and rocking on his heels.
I mentioned he was coming to Zari earlier, so she wouldn’t be surprised and hound me later. But judging by her expression, I’ll still be interrogated.
“Where do you want me?” he asks.
“Wherever.” The tables are only half-full giving us plenty of room. I wipe my hands on my apron as I round the corner.
“You sure this is okay?” he asks as his backpack slams down on a tabletop close to where I make the drinks.
Perfect. This way I won’t have to yell or come out from behind the counter too often and alert Manager Buzzkill.
“Of course.” I drop into the chair next to him with a sigh. “So what are we working on?”
He hands me Great Expectation, our newest literary torture, as he sits. “I can’t get through that to save my life.”
“Please tell me you’ve at least passed chapter one.”
Wincing, he shakes his head. “I swear I fall asleep every time I try.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“I could hardly have imagined dear old Joe looking so unlike himself,” Zari calls as she wipes down the counter. “Or so like some extraordinary bird, standing as he did, speechless, with his tuft of feathers ruffled, and his mouth opened as if he wanted a worm.” Braden glances her way, eyebrow arched. “What? It has amazing characterization.”
I laugh at the animated expression on her face. Of course she memorized quotes from this book. I’m not even shocked anymore.
“Characterization…right.” Braden meets my gaze, widening his eyes in mock horror. “I’m gonna fail this class.”
“Not with an endless supply of caffeine and both of us here to whip you into shape.” I stand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want?”
“Bring me your favorite.” He flips the book open to what appears to be the first page of the first chapter, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration.
I can’t imagine his struggle. From what I’ve researched, dyslexia sounds terrible.
And yes, I might have done quite a bit of research over the past few weeks to find out the best way to help him.
And no, it wasn’t because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him late at night when the house is silent.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that,” Zari laughs as she walks into the back.
Braden’s head snaps up. “What? Why?”
“How’s your heart? Strong? No health issues?” I try not to laugh, but the look on his face is priceless.
“Do you spike the coffee with an energy drink or something?”
“Something like that.”
His grin is breathtaking, eyes shining under the lamp hanging low over his table. I swear for a split second it’s just the two of us. No customers. No Zari. No evil boss.
Just as I find myself being sucked in, my mother’s words from a couple days ago overtake my mind. Dating is out of the question even if Braden saw me that way—which he doesn’t. No use going down the path of certain heartbreak.
I clear my throat, concentrating on making what is pretty much a caffeine bomb, guaranteed to keep him awake long enough to finish the whole book. When I glance his direction, his eyes are still locked on me. Butterflies swarm my stomach, throwing a rave despite my earlier rationalization.
Braden’s smile widens on cue as if he knows the affect he’s having on me. With a grin still on his ridiculously handsome face, his turns his attention to the book, releasing me from his spell.
I swear my legs almost give out on me. It’s stupid. All he did was smile, but damn I felt that all the way to my core. No wonder he dates so many girls. Why not when his options are endless?
No. No boys.
Not even a thought about them. Thoughts become actions. Actions become hurt and anger and sadness.
But friends. Friends I can do.
Or at least I think I can. I’ve never been friends with a guy. But hey, there’s a first time for everything.
Twenty minutes before closing Braden managed to get through the required chapters for this week and with my help created a few flash cards with quick reference information so he doesn’t have to scan through the book.
With a groan, he rubs his eyes. “My brain hurts.”
“That’s probably Stella’s death drink eating away at it.”
“Shut up.” Zari ducks out of the way as I toss a wet rag at her face. “I drink it every day and who has the second highest grades?”
“Might be highest if you didn’t drink that crap,” she mumbles as she takes apart one of the espresso machines way in the back.
I throw her a dirty look as I tidy up the rest of the counter. Can’t wait to get the hell out of here. I’m tired and starving and still have homework to do.
“I need food.” Braden’s head falls to the table with a soft thud.
“Well, we’re about to close and you’re all caught up. So be free. Enjoy your weekend.”
“Well…” Braden stands, rubbing the back of his neck as he drops his gaze to the ground. “Would you maybe…want to grab dinner with me?”
Uh…what?
I peer over my shoulder, checking for Zari because there is no way in hell he asked me. And certainly no reason why he should look so nervous if he did ask.
“Are you talking to me?”
His gaze jerks up to meet mine. “Who else would I be asking?”
Uh…anyone else.
“I should…get home.” My lame, blasé response doesn’t match the sudden acceleration of my heart. Thank God he can’t see that.
His hopeful expression falls, but he nods twice before shifting his attention to his stuff. “Yeah. Of course. It’s late. I should probably get home too.” He shoves his notebook and book into his bag with a little too much force, catching the spiral part on the zipper.
“Thank you though for the sweet offer.” I wince and from where I’m standing I can see him do the same. For some reason though I can’t stop my mouth from running. “Really. It’s been a long time since anyone asked me to dinner and even though you’re just asking to be nice, I appreciate it. I’m just worried that we’ll blow all this up again and I’ve only recently been allowed in your car, which means that we’re on the path to being friends and—”
“Please stop.” He doesn’t meet my gaze, but he’s back to rubbing his neck. His cheeks are peppered with red splotches and his feet can’t stop fidgeting.
“Okay, Melody says you can clock out early,” Zari announces as she walks through the swinging door. Her feet falter as she takes us in. “What did I miss?”
Braden mumbles something that resembles “nothing” as he slings his backpack on with the flap hanging open and makes a break for the front door.
When it slams closed Zari turns to me. “What was that about?”
“He asked me to dinner.” I tug on the string holding my apron on and let it pool at my feet before bending down to grab it.
“And you said no?”
“Of course.” I shove the apron in my purse and stand, blowing a stray hair out of my eye. I need a haircut. “What else would I say?”
Zari can’t control the range of emotions—mostly confusion—that flit across her face. After a few seconds she blinks rapidly. “Uh, you say yes.”
“Come on. We both know it will end badly.”
“No.” She jabs a finger in my face. “You think it will end badly because you think all guys are terrible and out to rip every girl’s heart out.”
Accurate. And from my experience true.
“Come on, you saw what he did to Michelle.”
“And you don’t know the full story. Stop putting up walls. They may stop you from hurting but they also stop you from feeling anything. Good or bad.”
“How old are you again?”
Zari beams, snapping my butt with a rag. “Seventeen going on fifty.”
“I’m surprised that boy of yours sticks around.”
“He loves it.” She gives me a little shove toward the door. “Go home. I’ll finish locking up.”
“See ya tomorrow,” I call over my shoulder as I step out into the bitter evening air. I need to remember to bring a jacket. We’ve officially hit that weird weather where it’s warm during the day but the temperature drops at night.
I pull out my phone and earbuds as I start my normal trek to the bus stop. While I’m untangling the mess of cords, my eye catches a silver SUV on the corner.
Braden hasn’t left?
I shove my phone and irritating jumble of cords into my purse as I near. In the dim overhead light of the streetlamp, I can just barely make out his form. He’s hunched over, tapping his forehead on the steering wheel.
For some reason, I can’t stop laughter from bubbling up. Not sure why I’m having this response. Might have something to do with the whole ridiculous situation. Him asking me out. Again. Zari trying to sway me into going. Or maybe because for a second, one tiny millisecond, I thought maybe his current reaction could be about me.
Reality says it’s about his mother. Or any other reason.
I must be laughing louder than I thought because his head jerks up. A few seconds later, his window rolls down, revealing a very confused-looking Braden.
“Something funny?” he asks, slinging an arm out the window to tap a thumb on the door.
“No.” I wipe at my eyes. No doubt I’ve smeared my mascara all over my face. “Sorry.”
With a shaky breath, I manage to reel in my psychotic fit of laughter.
“Oh…kay…” His eyes tick between mine. Obviously he doesn’t find this whole scene as gut-busting as I do.
Might be because I turned him down cold.
The thought sobers me and my laughter cuts off. “Zari just said something stupid as I was leaving.” The first words to pop into my head slip out but then I realize they don’t make the situation any better. For all he knows she could have been making fun of him.
His brow furrows, but he nods. “Oh cool. I just had to make a phone call. That’s why I’m still here. No hands-free in this old girl.” He pets the steering wheel lovingly.
“Oh. Okay.” See. So he had a phone call about his mom no doubt. A stupid voice in the back of my head chastises me for thinking his thoughts lingered on me for longer than it took to walk out the door. “Well, have a good night!”
I start walking, but Braden sticks his head out the window, calling my name. “Do you need a ride? Kinda late to take the bus.”
It’s eight.
Daylight hours during the summer.
“I do it almost every night.”
Braden rolls his eyes. “Do you have to make everything difficult?”
“According to my mom…yes.”
He sighs, thumbing toward the passenger side. “Will you just get in the car and let me take you home?”
I pretend to think but, I’m just dragging this out because whether or not I want to admit it, he’s cute when he’s annoyed. It doesn’t take long to work him up. One minute he’s looking at me expectantly. The next he’s making a weird growling noise. When he’s seconds away from opening his door, no doubt to throw me in himself, I smile and circle around to the passenger side.
As I’m climbing in, I hear him mumble something, but I can’t quite catch it when his SUV revs to life, the radio blasting so loud I have to cover my ears. In part it’s the volume, but also because the music sucks. Death metal. Not my first pick when I think of Braden.
Almost as if he’s getting me back, he turns the music up louder. “Don’t you love this song?” he yells over the noise and pulls away from the curb.
No. No I don’t. Since I have the impression he’s trying to screw with me, I simply nod and turn my attention out the window. This right here tells me how little he knows about me. I tend to do the opposite in situations like this. My buttons are far between. Most of them broke, I think, after Jesse.
Once he pops into my head, my good attitude dims. Stupid bastard.
I run an aggravated hand through my hair, slipping out the hairband holding the strands up as I go. In seconds, I’m coated in a thick layer of curls helping to block my face. If Braden catches one glimpse of the sour expression on my face he’ll launch into twenty questions and I’ll be left to defend instead of poking fun at him. I’m more comfortable there. On the offense.
Plus, he doesn’t need to be digging. He might strike gold.
Turning to the road I notice we’re headed in the opposite direction of my house. Has he forgotten where I live in a couple days’ time?
My hand fumbles for the volume on the radio. “I think you made a wrong turn.”
In the dim light I catch his eyebrow jump. “Oh…” His bottom lip pulls into his mouth before letting it out with a pop and leaving it glistening.
Dang…I can’t stop the image of me biting that full bottom lip from popping into my head. I also can’t stop the fluttering in my stomach when I think about it.
“Well since we’re already downtown…why don’t we grab dinner?”
Wow.
Smooth.
Really smooth.
“Interesting how we ended up downtown.”
“Crazy.” He keeps his eyes on the road.
“You don’t even have to hop on the freeway to get to my house from the café.”
“I don’t know what I was thinking.” Try as he might, he can’t keep a grin from forming.
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“No.” His eyes flick to me for a second before returning to the road. “I expect you to think I did this on purpose. Which I did for the record.” He slows to a stop at a red light, giving him the opportunity to turn to me. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still want to take you to dinner. And it would be nice if you came willingly. I don’t think I can handle another cold shutdown.”
Jesus. Why does he have to be so cute?
No. No. No. No. No.
I’m not this stupid. I don’t fall for charms—which this boy has in spades. I’m logical with my head firmly in place. I prefer schedules and plans. I don’t run around at night with a boy that clearly must have gone crazy after breaking up with Michelle if he wants to spend any more time with me than he has to.
I don’t do this.
I won’t do this.
But when he smiles I find myself nodding and my internal pep talk evaporates.
“Good.” He turns back to the road j
ust in time for the light to switch to green. “I know this amazing little Italian restaurant. Family-owned little hole-in-the-wall. No one I know ever goes there.”
At his words my stomach drops. So he doesn’t want to be seen with me. That’s fine. I don’t want others to see us either. Just another addition to the gossip mill. Another reason for Jesse to come after me. Fuel to the whole Michelle fire.
But those thoughts don’t stop my stomach from churning.
They don’t stop that little voice in my head from screaming I told you so.
That little spark of excitement I got when Braden looked at me, really looked at me and said he wanted to take me to dinner like he meant it dies a sad little death in my chest.
Three minutes later, Braden pulls to the curb outside a storefront that looks as if it’s seen better days.
“Doesn’t look like much from the outside, but I swear, it’s the best food you’ll ever have.”
The place looks as if it was built in the early 1900s. While the rest of the surrounding storefronts are vibrant and up-to-date, this little place is built out of bricks so old they’re no longer red. There’s no sign stating what it is save for the small writing on the door. White benches line either side, completely vacant.
It looks abandoned.
How the hell is it still open where there’s a giant Italian chain right down the street?
Braden rounds the SUV, swinging his hand toward the door for me to walk in front. I take the lead not sure what else to do. I’m not a judgy person, but something is telling me not to go in here.
But I can’t leave now. Braden drove and I have no idea where the bus stop is around here. A quick peek at my phone tells me it’s half past eight and that my battery is down to 2 percent.
Great.
When I reach the door, Braden leans in close, grabbing for the handle but also giving me a strong dose of whatever body wash he uses.
Shit.
An image of Braden all soapy in the shower is the last thing I need right now.
We step inside, Braden close behind and I’m immediately taken aback.
Inside is warm and inviting. Although small, it comes across as intimate instead of cramped. The overhead lights are dimmed, most of the light is coming from candles on the ten tables. A man sits on a stool on the far wall to my right, playing an accordion with a passion I never envisioned when I think of that instrument.