Chapter 2
two
My twin sister has always been my go-to person.
Good news, bad news, stupid moments I’d regret later—it all went to her first. It had been that way for as long as I could remember.
So while Lavender carried most of the (remade) coffees and pastries into the kitchen when we got home, I stole enough for Ainsley and me and went upstairs.
Ainsley and I had stopped sharing a room a couple of years ago, but we still had an open-door policy with each other, so I didn’t bother knocking when I reached the final door on the left.
Ainsley didn’t even look up from her laptop as I stepped inside, hopping over the backpack that she’d left on the floor, and put her coffee on her desk.
“You would not believe the day I’ve had,” I told her as I collapsed onto her pink-and-white duvet.
“Did Chelsea’s sister steal your shoes again?
” Ainsley asked distractedly. She still hadn’t looked away from her laptop, but she picked up the coffee and took a long sip.
I hoped she was enjoying it. I’d had to stand there uncomfortably as the barista mopped up the floor and remade all eight coffees Lavender had ordered (even worse because she’d gotten the math wrong and we only needed seven—I was pretty sure she’d accidentally counted Dad into the equation).
I thought he was ready to kill me by the time he stuck them all in trays and shoved them in my direction.
“Worse,” I sighed. “Lavender and I went to The Corner Cup and—”
That finally got Ainsley to turn around. “Oh my gosh, did you see the new hot barista?”
I stared at her blankly. “What?”
She waved her free hand around impatiently, her other one still tightly wrapped around her coffee cup. “You know! Everyone at school has been talking about this new kid at Northern High who works at The Corner Cup. Apparently he’s, like, super hot.”
That was a lot of information to process at once.
It was rare that Ainsley heard gossip before me, which meant that either everyone was talking about this and it somehow missed me, or only a couple of people were talking about it and it just so happened those people were on the swim team with Ainsley. Either way, I needed to know more.
“Why are people talking about a new kid at the public school?” I asked.
“Because he’s a hot barista!” Ainsley’s voice went up two octaves, just on this side of being shrill. “Aren’t you listening?”
“Of course I’m listening, but I still don’t see why anyone at our school would care about a random boy from Northern.” Already seeing her mouth open to protest, I added, “Even if he is supremely hot.”
Ainsley glanced at the door that I’d left ajar and jumped up to close it the rest of the way.
Sensing the promise of some sort of gossip that she didn’t want everyone else to hear, I propped myself up on her fluffy pillows and grabbed a cruller to eat while I listened.
What could I say? Gossiping made me hungry.
Instead of sitting back down at her desk, Ainsley sat at the other end of the bed, narrowly missing crushing my feet.
“Apparently,” she said in a low tone, “he’s dangerous.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Dangerous?”
Ainsley nodded with wide eyes. “Yeah, like Clementine told me that she heard he was expelled from his old school for fighting and he even did some time in…” She glanced over her shoulder like she was checking nobody had appeared in her room, then turned back to me and whispered, “juvie.”
I let out a short laugh, mostly because I wasn’t sure what else to do. I had to assume Ainsley was talking about the same barista I’d seen in the coffee shop today. Even though he’d seemed annoyed that I was even coming into the shop, that wasn’t exactly the same thing as him being a criminal.
“You’re joking.”
“I swear I’m not.” Ainsley hugged her knees to her chest, clearly enjoying this far too much.
“Clementine said her cousin goes to Northern, and apparently he just showed up out of nowhere last month. Like mid-semester. No explanation. But then someone saw this news report about a horrible fight he got into at his old school where the other guy ended up in the hospital and…” She made a vague gesture with her hand. “You know how it goes.”
I stared down at the cruller in my hands, suddenly less interested in eating it. Juvie. Expelled. Dangerous.
“He didn’t seem scary,” I said before I could stop myself.
Ainsley’s head snapped up. “Wait. You saw him?”
I groaned and flopped back onto the bed. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you hijacked my story. Yes. We saw him. He works there. He made our drinks.”
“And?” she pressed.
“And I totally embarrassed myself in front of him by dropping all the coffees everywhere.”
Ainsley blinked. Then she laughed. “Of course you did.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I said, sitting up and brushing sugar off my fingers. “Lavender ordered eight drinks, Lavender opened the door into me, and suddenly the entire shop was covered in coffee.”
“Did he say anything?” she asked.
“Not really. He looked… annoyed. Understandably.” I shrugged. “He remade them, shoved them at me, and that was it.”
Ainsley studied me for a moment like she was trying to catch me in a lie. When she didn’t find one, she relaxed back against the footboard.
“Well, that tracks,” she said. “Apparently he’s not very friendly.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t enjoy being baptized in coffee,” I said dryly.
“Fair. But still,” Ainsley went on, lowering her voice again, “people are saying to stay away from him. Like he’s trouble.”
“Well, good thing I’ve already decided I’m never going anywhere near that coffee shop again.”
To my surprise, Ainsley pouted at that. “But I never got to meet him!”
I stared at her. “You just spent the last five minutes trying to convince me this boy is a hardened criminal and now you want to meet him?”
“Well…” She picked at the tassels on her pillowcase. “Yeah.”
“Convince Clementine or Nora to go with you then, because I can never set foot in that establishment again.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Ainsley jumped up and went over to her desk. She dug around for a moment before spinning back around with a yellow piece of paper in her hand which she held out proudly. “I hope you don’t already have plans for tonight.”
I squinted at the paper as I took another sip. It seemed like it was a flyer for a live music night at The Corner Cup. I choked on my coffee.
“No,” I said immediately between coughs. I shook my head. “No, no, no, no, no!”
Ainsley clasped her hands together. “Please, Imogen? Everyone has been talking about this guy and I feel like I’m the only one who hasn’t seen him yet!”
“And you’re probably better off that way if he really has been to juvie.”
She dropped back onto the bed, hands still clasped together like a prayer. “What if I promise to buy you as many drinks as you want tonight?”
“I don’t drink coffee at eight p.m.”
“As many desserts as you want then,” she amended. “Please? You missed our Vampire Diaries marathon last night so you owe me.”
That gave me pause. I wanted to say no again, I really did, but the point about me missing our weekly TV show night stabbed a hole in my heart, because Ainsley didn’t know where I was last night.
And the guilt of lying to her about me talking to Dad was enough for me to say, “Fine. But we’re not staying for long. ”
Ainsley squealed and threw her arms around me in a tight hug. I hugged her back, happy to keep my face pressed against her shoulder so she couldn’t see the guilt on my face.