Chapter 7
Weeks pass, and I have continued to ignore Everett.
Each note he passes me, I reply with Phoenix.
Every time he tries to approach me. Phoenix.
And every time, he sticks to his word. He leaves me be.
In the beginning, it was hard. Okay, it's still hard.
His emotions, his desire to break down my walls is written all over his beautiful face.
I want to give in. But I have to stay strong.
He will move on. He is Everett freaking Rowan.
He will find a new girl to pass notes to.
One who will graciously give her heart away and accept his in return.
With time, he will forget about me. But I know I will never forget him.
The first week of October rolls in, bringing with it the changing leaves and chilly air. Air filled with a calming aura that soothes me this time of year.
The quiet of the shop allows for Ski and I to experiment and create our specialty Halloween drinks.
We always have a few themed drinks for the major holidays.
Coming up with recipes is my favorite part.
Last year, we had a drink at Christmas called the Melted Snowman.
It was a white chocolate mocha with graham cracker crumbles and a toasted marshmallow.
We put an orange straw in it to be the snowman’s nose.
Everyone loved it, and seeing them laugh at the orange straw was the best part.
It made me feel like I’d made an impact, even if it was simply bringing laughter to someone's day.
I know now, after hearing Everett's laugh, that a little laughter can do magical things.
Stop thinking about him, Leo.
Halloween is a bit trickier as most places don't do specialty drinks for spooky season but I batted my lashes and said pretty please and Ski caved.
Such a sucker. So here we are, trying and failing to come up with something spooky and flavorful.
Have you ever tried making candy corn and coffee go together?
Well, I'll save you the trouble. It doesn't.
"Can't we just do like a pumpkin drink? Everyone likes pumpkin spice." Ski is whipping up a batch of orange whipping cream for my next idea, if I can only get this matcha one right.
"Pumpkin spice is on our fall menu. We need to do something different for Halloween." I huff out as I try to mix my green matcha with my purple dyed foam. But it mixes too much and now my drink is brown.
"Ugh this is so frustrating! I can't get it right." Fisting my hands and stomping my foot, I toss the drink into the trash can, along with the four others I have tried.
Ski lays his bear-paw of a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, you'll get it. You want to go hand grind some beans to let out your frustration?"
Rolling my eyes at him, I can't help but giggle. Ski's solution to any negative emotion is to hand grind espresso beans. He swears it relieves tension. Honestly, it just gives me a hand cramp and then I get upset at that too.
The bell rings overhead, serving as the most opportune distraction, and I turn to take their order.
But the world stops around me at the sight of him.
He is devastating. The kind of beauty reserved for celebrities and, well, Greek gods.
His golden locks are perfectly tousled, hanging down in front of his dark, bold brows.
His jeans and letterman jacket fit him in a way that highlights his tall, lean, muscular frame.
And his smile. Jesus, don’t even get me started on his full lips and dimples.
"Everett." I whisper to myself.
I should have known he would approach me here instead of school. At school, I can run, hide away, get lost in all the people. But here? Here it’s just Ski and I.
“What can I get for you?” I say to the register more than to him, not even lifting my head. If I look at him, I don't know that I will be able to maintain my facade that he is not tearing my world apart and re-building it into something I can't allow myself to imagine.
“Answers.”
The bluntness and hurt in his voice makes my eyes snap up to his. His scowl is alarming. I've never seen him look… angry.
“Pho—”
“No. Don’t make me revoke your safe word.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in.
“Excuse me?” Ski comes up behind me.
“Sorry, sir. It’s just that Leora here has been stealing my heart one note and perfect fucking smile at a time, and now she is ignoring me, using her safe word as a cop-out.
And I respect the hell out of a safe word, but it’s gone on too long.
Time to face your fears, pretty bird. I'm calling in my rainy-day anything.
Talk to me." He is out of breath by the end of his little rant, and I am speechless.
He is right. That is exactly what I have been doing.
I expect the old man to back me up, but he doesn’t. He turns around, makes two Leos, the nickname he has coined my favorite drink, and hands them to me.
“Go talk to him, Leora.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Traitor.”
He chuckles and walks away, but not before ruffling my curls like I am eight years old.
Taking the drinks to my private corner table, I sit down with the boy who I'm pretty sure has stolen my heart.
It's time to be a mature seventeen year old, Leo. You can do this.
He sips his coffee and I watch, mesmerized as his lips curl around the edge of the coffee cup. I hate how intoxicating everything he does is. Great. Now I'm jealous of a stupid coffee cup.
He doesn't speak, clearly waiting for me to start. Allowing me control to take this conversation wherever I feel comfortable. But his demand for me to speak also forces me out of my comfort zone. How he balances the two is beyond me.
“I had a plan. Get good grades. Get a scholarship. Go to college. Get out of this town.”
He nods, spinning his coffee cup round and round on the old wood tabletop. “Solid plan. But it doesn’t explain why you are ignoring me and driving me absolutely insane.”
“Ev, you are not part of that plan,” I plead.
He leans in. “I can be.” Hope in his eyes again.
I lean back. “No, you can’t. Being with you—hell, not even being with you, just passing notes with you—has put a target on my back. I can’t handle being in the spotlight, in your light. I want—no, I need, to stay invisible and get out of here.”
“So I’ll come to you. Spotlights are overrated. It's much more fun in the dark.”
I laugh. I actually laugh.
“Do that again.” His face lights up like a kid on Christmas.
“No.”
“Please,” he begs, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
“Everett! You are not helping!”
“God, I love it when you’re mad.”
“You are insufferable. You cannot come into my darkness. You’re too…bright. Too you.” I wave my hand at his perfection.
“Okay, fine… But I could try. I’ll go where you go, hide where you hide. But I won’t ruin your plans. I would never hold you back. And if you're worried about Natasha, there's no need. I’ll protect you from her. She’s just jealous. She’ll get over it.”
Speaking of the gorgeous ex… “What were you two doing here a few weeks ago? I’ve never seen you guys come in together.” I try to hide my insecurities, and if he notices, he doesn’t comment.
“Ending things. Nat is…under a lot of pressure. I know she can be awful, but… Well, anyway, I don’t want to focus on her right now. I’ve tried to end things in the past before, but our parents pressured us to stay together. But I’m so tired of them controlling so much of my life.”
“Why stay with someone you don’t want to be with though?” I can’t help but ask such an intrusive question. It just flies from my lips before I can put my filter in place.
“Nat has been my best friend for a long time.
Our parents have pushed us together for years, political stuff—" He waves his hand like it's no big deal. "—and I guess it just felt right at first, but now it seems like we are both in it for the wrong reasons. I don’t want to live a lie like that. I do love Nat, but as a friend. And unfortunately for Nat, she is under more pressure than even I am.”
I can see the way he cares for her. Want's to help her but struggles with the fact that he can't choose himself while also helping her. “I see.” I slide my eyes from him, tracing my fingertip along the rim of my cup. I believe in my soul everything he is saying, but it doesn’t change the fact that us being together would hold him back, and I will not let his future suffer, even if it means I must sacrifice the one person who has made me truly feel seen.
“I won’t let you change your light for me. You thrive in the spotlight. You’re beautiful in it. It’s part of what makes you, you. I’m not made for your world, Ev.”
He is silent for a moment.
“You’re my Leora.”
I think he meant to say mine instead of my, but I let it go.
“I need to get back to work. Just let me go, Ev. I’ll be gone in a few months, and you will forget about me.”
I stand to move past him. But he reaches out and encircles my wrist with his large, rough hand. He traces small circles against the skin of my wrist. I bet he can feel my heart-wings pounding under my caramel skin.
“I could never forget you. And I’m not giving up. You’re my Leora. I need you.”
There it is again. My Leora.
I pull my hand from his and walk back behind the counter. He sits for a while, just staring into his coffee, then exits without another word.
“Is that the boy who asked you out?” Ski’s rough voice fills the empty shop.
“Yeah.” Even I can hear the sadness in my voice.
“That’s Everett Rowan, the mayor's son.”
“I’m aware.”
“Be careful, Leora.” Ski lays his hand on my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m trying.”