Chapter 9 Girl Meets Boy for Coffee
Nine
Girl Meets Boy for Coffee
After breakfast, I showered off the smell of eggs, bacon, and hash browns and changed into something casual but nice. I had my shift at the bookstore, and right after, I’d meet Dallas at the coffee shop.
I wore my dark-blue jeans that hugged me in all the right places and a green wool sweater to match my eyes.
I made sure to wear the only sexy bra and matching panties I owned.
The ones I’d bought with a gift card from Christmas and still hadn’t removed the tags.
They were black and lacy, and the underwear was a T-back-style thong.
“Where are you going?” Priya was on her computer as I was about to leave.
“Work.” I zipped up my jacket and could feel the string of the thong in the crack of my butt. I sure hoped I’d get used to it.
“Oh, that’s right.” She stopped typing. “We didn’t get an extra ticket to tonight’s game. Do you want to meet us after?”
I paused. Until this moment, I hadn’t thought past the coffee shop. If Dallas and I hit it off, maybe he’d want to keep hanging out. “I’m not sure. Text me after the game?”
“Okay.” She nodded as I left.
Now the challenge would be keeping myself in job mode for the next few hours. I was already dizzy, and my chest was growing tighter with each minute that passed.
Somehow I powered through and remained calm despite the constant flood of sorority girls demanding a form-fitting hockey shirt we’d gotten in and already sold out of in a few days.
But when I showed up at the coffee shop after work, I could barely breathe.
My insides were a pulpy mass. As if spring had hit, the snow melting and turning the ground into a soggy sponge.
I walked in and glanced around. I didn’t know why I looked. Dallas wasn’t there. I could feel it.
In line, I scanned the menu on the wall behind the counter. It was past four o’clock—my self-imposed cutoff time—so I couldn’t have caffeine. I decided on decaffeinated herbal tea. Citrus blend.
I ordered, grabbed the paper cup, and settled at a small table for two in the back. I didn’t want to be near the front windows where Dallas could see me eagerly waiting when he arrived.
From my jacket pocket, I took my phone out and woke it up. Five twenty-eight. I checked my inbox. Nothing but spam and an email from Mom. She’d gotten into the habit of communicating with me this way.
Hi Honey,
I was going through boxes in the basement and found one with your figure skating awards. I think you should go through it, keep what you want and throw out the rest. I can come pick you up from school and drive you back anytime.
Love, Mom
It was her passive way of asking when I’d be coming home again. I wanted to answer her with never. I couldn’t go home, not with Dad there. I’d cut him off, deleted him from my new college life. I couldn’t have him around when I was trying to be someone completely different.
Quickly, I typed back a response, telling her that I was busy at school, didn’t have time, and wondered if she wanted to come here and get dinner together the following day. I pressed send.
“Hi,” a familiar voice said above me.
I glanced up, and the sensation of rising waters filled me. “You’re here.”
The moment I said those words was the same moment I wanted to take them back. I sounded uncertain, desperate.
“Of course.” He stripped off his jacket and put it over the chair across from me. “I’m going to get some coffee. Want anything?”
I shook my head and pointed to my cup. He’d just proved me wrong on another item on my list. Number three. I thought he’d be self-absorbed, but he’d just offered to buy me a coffee. Selfish people didn’t do that.
He turned away, and I pressed a hand to my stomach, suddenly overly aware of the rhythm of my breath, my heart, even the rush of air in my ears.
If I’d been standing, I was sure my knees would have been weak.
Clearly, I was still as attracted to him as I’d been the night of the party. Maybe more so, because I knew what it felt like when he touched me.
He was at the counter now. I couldn’t hear him, but the order taker called out to the barista, “Venti Americano with room.”
It was confirmed. Not only did I hate coffee, but I was also coffee ignorant. What in the world was an Americano?
He sat in his chair. “Did you come here right from your job?”
“Yeah.” Oh, great response, Ade. Way to be a conversationalist.
“Where at?”
“The bookstore. Just on Saturdays.”
“Cool.” He took a sip of his coffee. “You get a discount?”
“Not on course materials, but on other merch.”
“Sounds like a good gig.”
“It’s okay.” My gaze shifted to the table. He was so dang gorgeous. I couldn’t look at him without thinking about all the feels I’d had last weekend. “The people I work with are decent.”
He spun his cup in a perfect circle. “I’m glad you texted me.”
My heart did a little leap. “You didn’t think I would?”
“I wasn’t sure.” He smiled, and I noticed that his teeth weren’t perfect. They had a bit of a gap in the front, which was cute.
After this confession, I knew exactly what I had to do. I had to be honest too. This wasn’t a game of hide-and-seek. It was real life, and I needed to find my footing.
“You’re right though. It took me a bit to decide.” I took a sip of my drink but this time didn’t take my eyes off him.
“You are afraid of me, aren’t you?”
“No, not exactly.” My hands were clammy. “I think I’m afraid of your reputation.”
“My reputation?” His brows folded inward. “I didn’t know I had one.”
“Well, there are the thirty girls.”
His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. “What thirty girls?”
“The rumor is you’ve had sex with thirty girls since school started.”
It took a moment for him to digest this. Then from somewhere deep inside him, he laughed loudly. “Wow. I had no idea. That is some kind of reputation.”
“Crazy, isn’t it?” The notion of it made me want to giggle too, but I didn’t, because he stopped laughing and his expression sobered.
“Interesting gossip, but rather impossible, wouldn’t you say?” He lifted his cup and drank.
I swallowed. He had a point. He was in school, on the dean’s list, maybe had a part-time job like I did. Finding the time would be difficult. But I hadn’t completely changed my mind about him. A rumor might be just a rumor, but it had to start somewhere—there had to be some validity to it.
“Thirty does sound a bit ridiculous.”
“Is that why your boyfriend told me I wasn’t your type?” He smiled with a corner of his mouth.
My jaw stiffened. “Jay is not my boyfriend.”
“I know. I know.” He made a tear in his napkin. “I’m just guessing your type is not someone who has thirty one-night stands in less than five months.”
“My type has less to do with whether a person sleeps around and more to do with me not wanting to be with someone who everyone gossips about.”
He tapped the lid on his coffee. “So what you’re saying is you don’t like to be the center of attention.”
If he only knew what last year had been like for me, then he’d understand.
First, it had just been school—dealing with the stares, the ridicule, the whispering behind my back.
Then it had been the reporters showing up at our front door wanting to hold interviews, the evil glares at our local grocery store, my dad’s pictures and mug shots plastered across the evening news.
And the hatred. Hatred from an entire metropolitan area.
No, worse than that—hatred from an entire society.
“You got it,” I said.
He took a drink and leaned back in his chair. “I think I might know where that rumor started.”
“You do?”
“There’s a girl in our dorm—”
“A girl you’ve slept with?” I lifted an eyebrow.
He smiled again but didn’t answer my question. “I did something she didn’t like, and we had a falling out. It doesn’t surprise me that she’d make up a story to get back at me.”
“What did you do?”
“Do you really want to know?”
I sighed. That was a good question. Did I, or didn’t I?
If I didn’t want people to know the embarrassing details about myself, I shouldn’t want to know his.
“No.” I shook my head.
He took another swig of coffee. “So what are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing definite.”
“I’m meeting some high school friends down at Sporty’s. Do you want to come with me?”
He had friends. This was number four on my list. And he was asking me to meet them.
I shrugged. “I don’t have a fake ID.”
“I know the bouncer. I can get you in.”
I rested my chin on my hand. I thought if I met Dallas here and talked with him, I’d know what to do about him. But I didn’t. I was still confused.
“I’m not sure if it’s such a great idea.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun. There’s a pool table, and we can get something to eat.”
I wanted to go. I did. But I’d told myself I was done with lying to my friends, and going with him would mean doing more of it.
His gaze searched mine.
I supposed I could just wait until tomorrow to start telling the truth. Today was still my day. I deserved this.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go for a bit.”