Sunset Sips by Jasmine Bell #2
When our eyes meet, it’s like he knows I need relief. A genuine smile forms on my lips for the first time since being here, and he returns it. His glance shifts from me to Nick, and his joy slips momentarily.
I’m more immersed in him than Nick because I barely hear Nick say my name. “Piper, did you hear me?”
As if our gazes are magnetic, turning away from Malcolm is difficult.
All the warmth building inside me blows away when I refocus on Nick.
So far, I’ve been able to mask my boredom well, but realizing Nick doesn’t care that I was distracted makes me want to disregard the whole act.
I fold my cardigan over my chest, crossing my arms.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I ask.
Nick picks up his cup and finishes off his drink. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick. Do you mind getting me a refill while I’m gone?”
I don’t respond before he slips out of his chair and walks away. An exasperated sigh passes through my lips, and I sink into my seat. This is a complete waste of my time, and I’ll never listen to River again.
A wave of frustration washes over me. River was supposed to accompany me here, but as we headed out the door she learned her student organization had a meeting, leaving me alone.
I wanted her to sit on the other side of Sipsational, keeping an eye on me like we’ve done for each other on previous occasions.
She only went to the meeting because the date was on campus, so if Nick turned out to be a murderer, at least there would be numerous witnesses. Plus, River only shows up to half their meetings anyway, and with executive board elections coming up soon, she doesn’t want to be replaced.
As I finish the remains of my coffee, I send a quick Pick Up SOS text to River and walk over to the short line at the register.
I call her, and her phone goes to voicemail.
So I desperately leave a message: “I need you more than that meeting. This is the worst date I’ve ever been on, and you have to save me.
Come up with any excuse to get me out of this, and I don’t even care if it’s crazy. Just bring your ass over here now!”
Once I reach the front of the line, I’m done bickering into my phone.
Malcolm’s the only one behind the counter, and typically I enjoy that because it allows me to talk to him.
But I’m on a “date,” and if this is half as awkward for me as it is for him, I think silence is a better choice.
I never come here with anyone else unless we’re studying, so I try to act like everything’s normal.
Yet, he knows something is up. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I dart my eyes to the near-empty baked goods display case and say the first thing that comes to mind. “I just wish there was some banana bread left.” I don’t want to get into any details because this situation is growing more embarrassing.
“Refill?” He nudges his head toward the cup I slide across the counter.
“Yeah.”
Malcolm juggles three orders simultaneously, bouncing from the espresso machine to the milk frother and blender. “I don’t believe you. The last time I saw you this miserable was when you took Professor William’s trig class.” He dramatically clutches his chest. “It’s heartbreaking to see, P.”
“I should be fine.” I look at my phone, hoping River has responded or at least seen the message.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Thanks, though.”
“Always.”
He holds the cup out, and as I grab it, our fingers brush against each other. Goose bumps shoot down my arm. Our touches are rare, fleeting moments that I cherish. Each time the sensation wears off, I’m left buzzing for more.
Just as much as I order more coffee or pastries because I know Malcolm’s hand will always find mine, he offers me plenty of “samples” for the same reason. While I’ve yet to officially confirm it, it’s the only logical explanation.
We’ve been friends since our first couple of nights on campus.
Between scholarship meetings, campus events, and honors requirements, we see each other enough that the push and pull to remain strictly friends becomes suffocating.
Though that hasn’t stopped us from flirting, it’s stopped me from wanting to fully cross the line, although it nearly happened once.
Freshman year, we almost kissed during a drunken night at a kickback.
I wanted it to happen, but my mother’s words clouded my judgment.
She always said, “Remember to stay focused on that degree ’cause that’s what Aggies Do.
” Even before I accepted my offer here, she loved throwing the A&T motto, “Aggies Do,” into anything she said.
So, back when Malcolm leaned in for a kiss, and I felt his breath on my skin, I pulled away.
All I could think was that Aggies most definitely don’t break the only cohort social code that could lead to chaos.
A hand reaches around me, drawing me out of my thoughts and grabbing the cup from my hand. I turn to see Nick sipping on his drink. His face twists in disgust. “Ugh, dude. How do you make a coffee wrong twice?”
“Excuse me?” Malcolm asks.
“I drank it the first time because I didn’t want to waste my money. But it’s like you didn’t even try the second time.” Nick sets the coffee back on the counter before walking away. “Throw that in the trash for me, will you?”
Being irritatingly repetitive is one thing.
However, being rude to any food service worker, let alone Malcolm, is an irredeemable quality.
If we weren’t partners for film class, I would leave without saying another word.
However, I refuse to let my grades suffer because of any awkward tension from walking out.
“You were harsh back there,” I say bitingly.
“I didn’t mean it like that. But come on, how hard is it to make coffee?”
I look back to the counter to see if Malcolm heard him, but he’s disappeared into the back.
Nick’s talking again without actually engaging with me. I try to find a moment to insert myself, but he talks like there’s no tomorrow. A few more minutes pass until I just have enough.
Finally, interrupting him, I blurt out, “Look, we should—”
I don’t get to finish my statement because I notice Tina, Malcolm’s coworker, storming toward us. “How could you?” she shouts, and every head of the small crowd left inside turns to her.
Confusion falls over me. It takes a second for me to realize she’s talking to Nick as she stops before him with a storm of fury brewing on her face. “You’re really on a date right now?”
Nick’s mouth drops open, and his eyebrows pinch together. My face is probably identical to his because I’m so baffled about what’s happening.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” he asks.
Tina jerks her head back so aggressively that I swear if she does it any harder, she’ll break her neck. “Oh, so you asked me to be exclusive with you the other day, and now you don’t know who I am?”
There is no way Mr. Let It Be Known I’m the Vice President is on a public date with me when he already has another girl.
For someone who presents himself as an open book, it seems like I’m missing a few pages.
My head snaps to Nick with curses ready to fly off my tongue.
But out of the corner of my eye, I notice Malcolm inching closer to us.
She turns to me. “Girl, he’s gonna string you along and play with your feelings. And once you get attached, he’ll act like he doesn’t know you.”
“But I don’t know you!” Nick sputters, his confusion growing louder.
Malcolm finally enters the conversation. “You’re not gonna raise your voice in here, especially not to my coworker.” I can tell from the severity of Malcolm’s tone that he’s serious.
“Your coworker is the one berating me.”
“I thought you changed.” Tears spring to Tina’s eyes, and I am unsure whether to leave the chaos or stay for the drama. What is happening? “I can’t believe I trusted you again.”
“It’s okay.” Malcolm places a hand on Tina’s shoulder. “Go cool off in the back. I got this.”
Tina gives Nick one last look of heartbreak before turning on her heel and rushing through the coffee bar and into the kitchen.
“Dude, you’re gonna have to go,” Malcolm orders.
“I’m not doing anything.” Nick turns to me, looking for help. But after he wasted my time and insulted Malcolm, I don’t care that this is embarrassing for Nick.
I fold my arms over my chest and shake my head. “I can’t believe you would do this.”
“It’s almost eight o’clock, so you should get going anyway.” Malcolm turns to the café, speaking up. “We’re closing in five minutes, so the show’s over, everyone.”
There’s a brief moment when no one moves, all still watching us. But when Nick finally accepts defeat and gets up from the table, everyone else follows, packing their belongings and cleaning their areas.
Nick opens his mouth to say something to me. But I hold my hand up and turn my face away from him. He grunts through his teeth as he leaves, and I hope he’ll have enough sense to request a partner change from our professor.
Malcolm slips into the seat, his hand folding over mine. The normal few seconds of us touching pass, and Malcolm’s hand is still on mine. No words form on my tongue. How am I supposed to speak when his electric touch literally frazzles my brain?
Luckily, Tina bursts out of the back room and fills the quietness as the café grows empty.
“Malcolm, I’m leaving,” she says before turning to me. “I hate a bad date, so I’m glad I could help.”
And as I put it together, all I can do is laugh. “I was really confused for a second, but thanks, girl. I appreciate it.”
“Malcolm asked for the assist,” she says, nudging his shoulder. She then holds her hand out as Malcolm sheepishly smiles atme.
“Sorry, I almost forgot.” Malcolm reaches into his apron pocket and pulls out a small stack of bills, handing them to Tina. “Here.”
“Thanks again.”
“Nah, thank you.”
Tina’s already walking out, counting the money. “If it gets me this, anytime,” she calls out as the front door closes, leaving us alone.