Chapter Nineteen
“Leon’s got no boundaries,” Phillip tells me from across the diner booth.
“Now, that we can agree on,” Aspen adds.
“He’s always lounging in your personal space or stealing food off you.
” “That’s not true,” Leon protests loudly, from where he’s currently resting his elbow on Jake’s shoulder and snacking on fries.
Jake, for his part, merely looks down at his own suspiciously empty plate and laments, “I’m pretty sure those fries were mine. ”
—“A Diner Date with US: The Interview”
When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Leon.
He sat on the edge of a footstool, munching a piece of toast, looking at some book, and appearing right at home in my home. What was he doing here?
When I stirred, Leon didn’t stop chewing, but looked up with curious, unblinking eyes. It reminded me of the cats when I was a little kid and used to fall asleep in the café and then wake up to them watching over me.
“You okay?” Leon asked.
I propped myself up on my elbows. I still felt tired, but not sluggish, and the world no longer blurred together like I was spinning around in a teacup ride. “Yeah, better.”
“Oh good,” Leon said, exhaling a happy little sigh of relief.
He shoved more toast into his mouth. Where had he gotten that?
“Jake just said you weren’t feeling good and to watch you.
I didn’t know if you had that thing where you, like, forgot to breathe while you were asleep.
If you died under my watch, Jake would kill me. ”
“That’s sleep apnea. Which is a concerning medical condition . . . that I don’t have. I wasn’t going to die.” I rolled my eyes. Cats and boy band members. So dramatic.
“Hey, this is you and Jake, right?” Leon asked, holding up the book in his hands.
Wait. That was Mom’s photo album. What was he doing looking through that?
I squinted at the photo Leon was tapping. It was a super old one of Jake and me on school career day. I wore a plastic stethoscope around my neck and had a plush cat tucked under my arm, because even back then, I’d dreamed of becoming a vet. Jake had a microphone, because, well, you know.
“Kind of predictable, though,” Leon commented. “You two really never switched it up, did you?” He grinned down at the photo, way too delighted. “Look at your little baby faces.”
I stared at him, not sharing any of his enthusiasm. “You’ve been going through my photos?”
“The book was on the coffee table,” Leon said defensively.
“I thought it was like when there are magazines and stuff in waiting rooms. It was just sitting there going, Flip through me!” He wiggled the book like it was actually speaking to him, and said the last three words in a high-pitched voice.
Because, apparently, talking photo albums had squeaky voices.
“I saw the picture of you mid-laugh after you got your blue ribbon at the science fair, by the way. You want to tell me who was behind the camera who made you smile like that, or are you going to make me guess?”
I glared.
Leon seemed more than happy to ignore it.
“There were some serious heart eyes going on too,” he continued, all caffeinated and conversational.
I never thought I’d miss cranky, coffee-less Leon, but I really did.
At least that version of him didn’t literally nose around in my personal life.
“I swear you turned into that little emoji. You know the one.”
I grimaced. Had I been that obvious and easy to read? Had Jake been able to tell? The idea made me want to pull the blanket over my head and never come out. Maybe it was good I never told Jake I had a crush on him back then. What if he’d already known and was just ignoring it?
Speaking of Jake . . .
“Where is—” I paused to squint at Leon, who’d gone back to eating. “Hold on. Where do you keep getting that toast?”
“Oh! Jake said you should eat when you woke up,” Leon informed me. “Something about you skipping breakfast.”
With that, he picked up a plate I hadn’t noticed before and handed it to me. I looked down and found myself staring at a plateful of scrambled eggs with three pieces of triangle-shaped toast.
“Jake made me scrambled eggs?” I asked haltingly, staring down at the plate.
“They’re the only thing he knows how to make,” Leon told me.
He must’ve misunderstood my confusion, answering why Jake decided to make me eggs instead of why Jake would bother cooking for me at all.
“Well, the only thing he knows how to make without setting anything on fire. He tried to make fajitas in our hotel room one time. It didn’t turn out well.
At all. But the manager on the night shift was unexpectedly nice. ”
I stared down at the food. Jake stayed. Jake made me breakfast.
What did that mean?
“Jake must really like you,” Leon commented. “He never makes me eggs and toast.”
“Don’t chew with your mouth full,” I said instead of acknowledging his comment.
Rolling his eyes, Leon took a gulp. “Jeez, you even sound like him.”
I turned, glancing around the room. “Where is Jake?”
“Back at the café,” Leon answered, clearly not caring about the details as he waved his hand carelessly toward the door. “Do you need anything?”
Answers. Help. Some guidance. A miracle.
“No, I—” Cutting myself off, I stared at him. “Are you still eating my toast?”
Leon blinked at me. “No,” he said, before setting the second triangle he’d already stolen and taken a bite out of back on my plate.
I laughed. “Just finish it, Leon.”
He snatched the toast back, shoveling it in his mouth like a starving alley cat.
Another thought occurred to me. “How’s the café?”
“Yeah, Jake said you’d ask about that. Don’t worry about it, he runs a tight ship,” Leon said, wiping his hands on his pants.
“Jake’s got Phillip and Aspen taking care of everything.
All water bowls have been changed. Kibble dishes have been refilled.
All the cats have been brushed and attended to like they’ve got personal butlers. ”
My mind reeled at the fact that a band on Billboard’s Hot 100 was currently running around doing my chores for me. What was this life?
“It’s good you made sure the café stayed open, because several customers stopped by,” Leon commented. “Some nice old lady came in and Phillip introduced her to Skittles. She was, like, super charmed and wanted to adopt both of them, but we told her only Skittles was available.”
“Skittles? Really?” My heart warmed instantly—he’d been having a hard time getting adopted because he was one of our older residents. They’d found him a home?
“Uh-huh.” Leon nodded, not quite understanding my excitement but smiling back anyway, like he was happy I was happy.
“We didn’t know how the whole adoption thing worked, though, so Jake promised to pass the news on to you or your mom and not let anyone else adopt Skittles in the meantime.
He’s got her number. Or, well, Phillip’s got her number. I think she wanted a British grandson.”
“Oh my God, that’s fantastic.”
Feeling happy for the first time today, I took a gigantic bite of my eggs.
“By the way, what did you and Jake talk about?” Leon asked curiously. “He seemed kind of . . . off when I saw him.”
I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth and my eyebrows knitting together.
What had I said?
Frantically, I searched my memory, but it came back clouded, like an out-of-focus Polaroid filled with sun glare. I’d been so loopy on the allergy tablets before my nap, I couldn’t remember most of what happened other than he’d made me come home.
I remembered thinking I probably shouldn’t be telling Jake something, though.
What had I said? Had it been super embarrassing?
Oh, God, I hadn’t talked about having a crush on him, had I?
I tried to recall our conversation, but the memory stayed hazy, like I was searching for lights through the fog.
The one thing I did remember was that Jake looked upset.
The thought made me feel sick all over again.
Leon stopped chewing his—or my—toast long enough to ask, “What’s the matter?”
“I think I might’ve said things I shouldn’t have, and maybe hurt Jake,” I told him. “I never meant to do that.”
Leon studied me. “You like him, don’t you?”
“You’re getting crumbs on the carpet,” I said, ignoring his comment and shoving a napkin at him.
Apparently, that was enough of an answer for Leon, who grinned knowingly. “Oh, you so like him.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It really kind of is.”
“I doubt Jake likes me, anyway,” I sighed. Leon’s phone went off, and he glanced down at a text. “Especially not after my verbal emotional vomit, whatever it was.”
“Are you sure about that?” Leon asked, holding up his phone as I took another forkful of eggs. “Because Jake just texted that your mom finished up at the bank and stopped by The Tiny Tiger, and he told her he was fine to keep running the café so she could come home and talk to you.”
“What?” I nearly spat out my eggs. “I was almost on my way over there!”
“No, you weren’t, actually, because Jake told your mom how you weren’t feeling good and she’s not super happy about it.”
“Hmph.” I stabbed another forkful of what were admittedly fluffy and well-scrambled eggs. Was that a hint of pepper? “That snitch.”
“Yeah! He’s a killjoy,” Leon agreed, looking enthusiastic that someone else finally saw the truth about Jake.
“Like, did you know he’s always the one to drag me out of bed when I’m late?
Jake puts the coffee cup riiiiight out of reach so I have no choice but to get out of bed to get it. He thinks it’s hilarious.”
“Insufferable.” Oh, the butter had melted down nicely into the toast. Delicious. No wonder Leon wanted to steal it.
“Exactly,” Leon said, as another text came through on his phone. “And now he wants me back at the café.”
“To rehearse?”
“To sweep. Apparently, there’s been a kibble incident and Aspen cannot be trusted with a broom. And Phillip claims he’s never seen one before as they—quote—don’t have them in Britain. Personally, I think the plonker’s lying for fun again.”
“A kibble incident?” Quickly, I set down my plate and threw the blanket off my lap. “Wha—”
“Lucy, it’s fine,” Leon said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Jeez, relax. I got it handled. You don’t have to keep the café running all by yourself.”
“He’s right, you know.”
Surprised, I turned around to see Mom standing in our front doorway.
She gave me a small, sad smile. “It’s not all on you, Lucy.”
“That’s what I keep telling her, Ms. Melrose,” Leon said cheerfully, walking over to hold the door open to make it easier for her to walk inside, before he stepped outside himself. “See you guys later, I’m off to sweep.”
He threw me a salute before shutting the door with a snap.
Mom turned to look back at me. “How are you doing?”
My heart felt like it was cracking.
“I’m just fine,” I said.
And it would’ve been a convincing answer, had I not started tearing up.