Chapter 20
LOGAN
Ifeel like a zombie as I walk into The Honeycomb Cafe. I never thought I’d become so dependent on coffee that I’d need it the moment I woke up.
I don’t have a coffee machine in my dorm room, but I think I’m going to have to get one, because I can’t keep coming here this often.
I step inside and am immediately greeted by a line stretching from the register to the door.
I know Alex isn’t working, which honestly is probably for the best.
I really just want to get my coffee and get out, not see the face I can’t seem to get out of my head.
Vicki, the blond guy with the nose ring I’ve seen a few times, and some girl I haven’t seen before are all behind the bar, their faces serious and eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
I always have so much respect for people who do this kind of work, especially since they manage to keep their composure after dealing with so many people and, probably, more than a handful of difficult customers.
“I asked for this iced,” a deep voice says from the hand-off area.
“Oh. Sorry,” the blond guy making drinks says, his voice clearly tinged with annoyance.
My eyes find Joel, his arm draped around Mikayla as they wait impatiently at the hand-off counter.
My brain immediately tells me to find the door.
If he sees me, he’ll probably have something to say. If anything, I should give him a piece of my mind, but instead, I avoid eye contact with them.
“Simon, can you change that large cappuccino to decaf?” Vicki calls to the blond guy.
“Sure,” Simon responds, scribbling something down.
“Are you going to make my drink or what?” Joel asks, leaning over the hand-off counter to look at Simon.
“Give me a second,” Simon replies, more edge creeping into his voice this time.
Joel scoffs and whispers something in Mikayla’s ear.
I clench my fists as I watch her chuckle. Likely a joke at Simon’s expense.
Simon hands Joel an iced drink. “Here’s that drink for you.”
“About damn time. My girl needed her drink yesterday. Pick up the pace next time,” Joel grumbles.
Of course, he wouldn’t understand what it’s like to work behind a counter, making an endless stream of drinks for impatient, under-caffeinated people.
“They’re going as fast as they can,” I say to Joel, unable to contain my annoyance.
Joel frowns and looks at me. “We have somewhere to be. They should go faster.”
“You asked for the wrong drink. Maybe actually ask for it iced when you order it and don’t blame them for your stupidity,” I retort, glancing quickly at Mikayla to gauge her reaction as she sips the drink Joel forgot to get right.
She glances between Joel and me, and he drops his arm from around her shoulders, his nostrils practically flaring like an angry bull.
“You got another little boyfriend to defend now, too?” Joel asks, louder this time.
I glance over at Simon, who’s somehow managing to make drinks and eavesdrop at the same time.
A few students sitting at tables with their laptops have started staring at us, too.
My mind flashes to Alex, half his face illuminated in his car the other night before I leaned my head in.
My heart starts beating faster, and my mouth goes dry.
“No, I—”
“Oat milk chai for Camila!” Simon calls out, louder than before, almost like he’s intentionally interrupting us.
“Just saying to watch your mouth,” I manage to get out.
Joel takes a menacing step toward me.
“You—”
“Joel, come on, let’s just go,” Mikayla says, grabbing his hand and trying to steer him away.
He glances between Mikayla and me, like he’s deciding whether to beat my face in or leave with her.
Then he looks around the cafe, and something shifts in his eyes.
Joel threads his fingers through Mikayla’s, but he doesn’t take his heated glare off me.
“Fucking fairy,” Joel mutters under his breath as Mikayla pulls him away.
I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to stop myself from going after him and throwing a punch.
I’m not who he thinks I am, and I’m tired of him telling me who I am.
Mikayla gives me an apologetic look and pulls him out of the cafe.
I puff out a breath and rub my face.
I’m not even sure what came over me, but the thought of people treating the baristas like that—and especially if Alex were ever on the other side of that counter—sends me into a frenzy.
It’s one thing for Joel to try to make my life miserable. It’s a whole other thing for him to do it to other people, and I won’t stay quiet.
“Thanks for that,” Vicki says as it becomes my turn to order.
“Yeah, thanks for that, man. Free coffee on us,” Simon says, holding out his fist.
I smile and bump it. “You don’t have to do that.”
Vicki nods. “Uh, yeah, we do. He’s always such an asshole when he comes in. You’re the only person who’s ever stood up to him.”
I’m surprised most people just let Joel’s behavior slide.
“Maybe he won’t if I’m here.”
Vicki snorts. “We can only hope.”
She puts my drink into the system, and I head over to the handoff area. I watch in awe as Simon makes drinks at super speed while Vicki effortlessly moves through the growing line of customers.
It reminds me of when I was on the field, weaving and dodging through other players like a hurricane. I used to get such a rush from all my limbs working perfectly in tandem.
Watching the baristas reminds me of how talented Alex is to be working here on top of everything else. How accomplished he is to be working here, on The Goldberg, acing his classes, and caring for his family.
It reminds me of who I used to be and how accomplished I used to feel.
Now, I don’t have much to boast about other than how much weight I can bench press, and there’s nothing about me that feels particularly unique anymore.
I’m just... here.
Simon hands me my drink, and I snap out of my thoughts.
“Thanks again for sticking up for me,” he says with a smile as he passes me my coffee.
I lift it toward him, trying not to let my hand tremble. “No trouble. You all do a great job here.”
He gives me a quick nod before moving on to the next drink in a long line of receipts, and I leave the cafe with even less dignity than I had when I walked in.
Part of me thought Joel was getting under my skin because he’s with someone I used to love, but I think it’s the entire team that’s getting to me.
Travis, Joel, and everyone else debating who I am, what I want, and how much I matter.
I pull out my phone and bring up Alex’s contact, my thumbs trembling over the screen, but they stop just before I hit Call.
I can’t call him.
Not after the other night.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and head to my next class, hoping I can forget how heavy it feels there.