What To Do About Wednesday
Page 6
He had pushed her securely back into the friend zone, and she needed to catch her breath and think before she said or did something that made a fool of herself.
But she couldn’t think as she dealt with the rush of customers and the complicated orders of lattes and cappuccinos. Plus, every time she brushed against Fitz, her body went all jumpy with nervous jitters.
And in the tight space behind the counter, they couldn’t help but bump into each other or brush hands as they both prepared drinks.
In the last few days, whenever she’d swept by him or their hips had bumped, she’d loved it. She’d loved the funny tinglies in her belly and the way her breath caught if his fingers accidentally—or maybe on purpose—skimmed her hand.
But not today—not now. Now her chest was full of ache and doubt, and she chastised herself for thinking he was being anything but nice to her. To one of his friend’s exes.
What could he possibly see in her anyway? He was a brainiac, and she’d barely passed high school. He came from a good family, and her home life was a train wreck. He was ridiculously cute, and now she just looked ridiculous. How had she thought dying her hair pink had been a good idea?
She worked to swallow down the emotions flooding her throat as she pasted on a smile for the last customer in line.
He was a guy around her age, and he smiled nervously at her. “Hi. I’m Brandon. I like your hair.”
At least someone liked it. She smiled back. “Thanks, Brandon. I’m Piper. What can I make for you today?”
“Oh yeah, um…” he studied the menu board. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker. What do you recommend?”
What was he doing in a coffee shop if he didn’t drink coffee? “We also have sodas and hot chocolate.”
“Okay, sure. I’ll have a hot chocolate and one of those banana muffins.” He pointed to the display case and knocked over the daily special sign. His face colored as he righted the sign. “Sorry. I’m just on my way to class and needed a snack.”
“This should do it then. Bananas are supposed to be good brain food.” She rang up his order and gave him the total.
He pulled out his wallet. “You look familiar. Don’t you go to the college too? I think we have English Comp together. Wednesday morning with Profession Reardon?”
“Oh yeah. I am in that class. I just finished my paper this morning.”
“Me too.” He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and kept his gaze focused on the counter. “We should study together. Or go out for coffee sometime. We could talk about English.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I thought you just said you didn’t really like coffee.”
He shrugged. “I don’t. But I like you.”
“Oh.”
“And I’d like to go out with you. I mean, if you want to.”
She studied him. He looked normal—average height, average build, average brown hair. He was wearing a shirt which had Han Solo and Chewbacca on it, so he had to have a few nerdy tendencies. But he was attractive, in a cute nerd kind of way.
And he had liked her hair.
She noticed Fitz was standing closer than normal, and she glanced over him, surprised to see the scowl on his face. A scowl directed at Brandon, the cute nerd who’d just asked her out to coffee.
What was that about? Hadn’t he just made it clear that he wasn’t interested in going out with her?
Well, this Brandon guy apparently was.
And if Fitz didn’t want to go out with her, she might as well go for coffee, or whatever, with this guy. And maybe Fitz would realize what he was missing.
“Sure, why not?”
“Yeah? Great. How about tomorrow? After class?”
“That sounds good.” She quickly jotted her number on the back of his receipt. “You can text me the details.”
He smiled and stuffed the receipt in his pocket, juggling the muffin and the cup of hot chocolate Sarah had just handed him. “See ya tomorrow then.”
A tiny smile crept across her face. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all.
Her small victory didn’t make up for the fact that Fitz ignored her for the next hour.
Not that they had time to talk. The coffee shop was crowded with customers, and they were both focused on getting through the mid-morning rush.
The rush finally ended, and Piper grabbed a cloth and hurried around the lobby, trying to get all the empty tables straightened and wiped down.
A cute guy with brownish hair had been studying in the corner, and he looked up and smiled as she passed. “Hey, I like your hair. It’s cool.”
She smiled back, restraining her urge to check behind her in case he was talking to someone else. “Thanks.”
“It reminds me of strawberry ice cream.” His tone held a flirty note, and he made the words ‘strawberry ice cream’ sound the slightest bit sexy.
And she had absolutely no idea how to respond. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yeah. It’s a great thing. I love ice cream. Don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“We should go get some together.”
“Excuse me?” What was happening today?
He shrugged. “I was asking you if you wanted to go get some ice cream with me. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes trying to figure out how to ask you.”
“Why?”
He chuckled. “Because you’re cute and seem nice. I’ve been watching you with the customers, and you have a great smile. And I figure anyone who dyes their hair pink has got to be fun. So, what do you say?”
“Um…okay.” She glanced at the counter and saw Fitz watching her. “Yes. That sounds fun.”
“Great. It’s a date. I’ve got class this afternoon, but I could meet you around four.”
“Today?”
“Why not? Have you been to Campus Cones? It’s on the west side of the college.”
“I’ve seen it, but I’ve never been there.”
“It’s cool. They make these really over the top milk shakes. You’ll love it.” He stuffed his laptop into his backpack and pushed back from the table. It was then she noticed his t-shirt and the images of R2-D2 and C3PO and a funny caption about which droids someone had been looking for. “I’ve gotta get to class, but I’ll see you there then. Around four?”
Her hands hung limp at her sides, the cleaning cloth all but forgotten. What was going on? Two guys had asked her out in the same day? And both were science fiction fans? Evidently guys who liked space stories were also attracted to girls with pink hair. “Okay.”
He flashed her another flirty grin. “I’m Clay, by the way.”
“Piper.”
“I know.”
“How did you…?”
He pointed to her nametag as he headed for the door. “See ya later.”
“See ya.” She wiped down his table, lost in thought. Her new hair must really be attention-getting.
She jumped, startled, as a presence loomed next to her.
“What was that all about?”
“Geez, Fitz. You scared the crap out of me.” She pressed her hand to her chest.
“Sorry.” He grabbed the empty cups off the table in front of her. “So what did that guy want?”
She shrugged. “To ask me out for ice cream, I guess.”
“What? Do you even know him?”
She shrugged. “I do now. And weren’t you just the one telling me I should start going out with other guys?”
“I didn’t mean all of them,” he muttered, then turned away, carrying the trash he’d cleared from the table to the trashcan.
Piper leaned against the counter, trying not to check the clock again. She had ten minutes left of her shift, and she was ready to go.
It had been a weird day, and Fitz had been acting strange all day and frankly, she was just over it.
The weather had been screwy too—cloudy and overcast and generally dreary. Which was a little how she felt. She should be excited—she’d been asked out on two dates today. But neither one
was with the guy she wanted to go out with.
She let out a sigh. Maybe one of them might turn out to be a great guy. A guy who could make her forget all about the Brilliant Barista.
The door to the coffee shop opened, and a brown-haired guy strode in. He walked to the counter, his eye on the menu board as he unzipped his jacket to reveal a faded green t-shirt with Darth Vader on the front.
You have got to be kidding me.
Was today National Wear Your Star Wars Shirt Day, and she just hadn’t gotten the memo?
Maybe she should test her theory—see if sci-fi guys really did dig chicks with pink hair. She offered him a smile. “Hi, I’m Piper. Nice shirt.”
He smiled back. “Thanks. Nice hair.”
Seriously? It worked.
“Thanks. What can I get you?”
“Caramel latte with an extra shot. And your number.”
She raised her eyebrows. What was happening? Was this guy for real? Was this day for real?
She planted a hand on her hip. “Why would I give you my number?”
“I don’t know. I just aced a Calculus test, and I’m feeling lucky.”
Another smart guy. “I don’t even know you.”
“True.” He held out his hand. “I’m Aaron. And I’m having a great day. I aced my test, and I finished a huge project and turned it in today, and I think you’re cute so I’m taking a chance and hoping you’ll give me your number and agree to have coffee with me sometime.”
She studied him as she made his latte.
He was tall and stocky and wore wire-rimmed glasses. He had a nice smile and straight white teeth which had to be the product of braces.
His smile faltered just the slightest. “Come on. What could it hurt to have coffee? And I’m on a winning streak here. In fact, if you say yes, I may even go buy a lottery ticket.”
She laughed. What would it hurt to have a coffee? “Okay, fine. But if you win any money on that ticket, you have to split it with me.”
His grin returned, splitting across his face. “Deal.”
She handed him his coffee then grabbed a page from a stack of flyers which sat next to the register and jotted down her number.
He passed her a five-dollar bill. “There’s a cool coffee bar downtown that has live music after seven. It’s called Java & Jams. How about we check it out tomorrow night? I could pick you up.”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Hey, I told you I was feeling lucky.”
As long as he didn’t think he was going to get lucky. “Why don’t I meet you there?”
He shrugged. “That’s cool. Say about seven?”
“Sure.”
He grabbed his cup and offered her a wave. “See you tomorrow.”
She let out a laugh and turned to see Fitz standing in the doorway of the stock room, another scowl on his face. “I just wanted to tell you your shift’s over. You can go home now.”
“Okay. I was just ringing up the last customer.”
“Yeah, I saw.” He turned back to the stock room as Sarah came out to take over the counter.
Geez. What was he so grumpy about? Was he actually bothered by the guys who had asked her out today? He’s the one who had told her to get out there and try her hand at dating.
Although she hadn’t expected her hand to be so full so quickly.
She didn’t have time to worry about it. She had an hour and a half to get home, get changed, and then walk to her afternoon class. She had two classes still today then her ‘date’ with Clay for ice cream.
She grabbed her purse and jacket from the back and headed out the door, waving to Sarah and Fitz.
Ignoring the stab of pain to her heart. It was his choice if he wanted to act that way.
She flipped back her new pink hair and headed toward campus.
Piper peered around the ice cream shop, spotting Clay sitting in a booth in the back. It was a cute shop—kitschy with pink and white checked tablecloths and sit-down service. All the desserts had cutesy names which followed the campus theme like Brainy Butterscotch and Chemistry Crunch.
“Hi,” she said, sliding into the seat next to him.
“Hey. Glad you made it.” He gestured to the glasses on the table. “I got us some water, but I didn’t know if you wanted something else to drink.”
“Water’s fine.”
“I was just waiting for the waitress, and I was going to order us some chocolate shakes.”
She blinked. “Why would you order for me?”
He shrugged. “Sorry, I just assumed everyone likes chocolate.”
“Actually, I prefer vanilla.”
“Are you sure? You don’t seem like a vanilla kind of girl.”
What the heck does that mean? “Well, I am.”
He held up his hands. “Okay, no offense intended. I guess I thought a girl who colored her hair pink was a little more adventurous.” He raised an eyebrow as if daring her to deny it.
“I am adventurous,” she retorted, her back bristling. “I just happen to like vanilla.”
This was why she didn’t like going out on dates. She was terrible at it. Drew had been her first real boyfriend so she had no experience with all this flirty chatter, and she totally sucked at small talk.
But they hadn’t even ordered yet, so it was probably too soon to try for a quick getaway.
Thankfully, a waitress approached the table and took their order, saving her from having to continue to defend her ‘adventurous’ status.
She settled into the back of the booth after the waitress left. “So did you grow up around here?”
“Nope.”
She studied his face. Something about his eyes seemed familiar. “Me either. But I graduated from high school here. I can’t believe it was only a few months ago. I feel like I’ve already changed so much since high school.”
He let out a hard laugh. “Yeah, me too.”
Their ice cream arrived, and they settled into an awkward silence as they dug in. Piper kept sneaking glances at him as she tried to think of something clever to say.
Coming up short, she focused on finishing her ice cream instead, the consequences of a brain freeze preferable to more of her clumsy attempts at conversation.
He was watching her, and he licked a drop of chocolate from his spoon as his gaze dipped unmistakably to her breasts.
She wore a loose white V-neck T-shirt under an open blue and gray checked flannel and suddenly felt the urge to draw the edges of her flannel together to cover her chest.
He leaned toward her ear as he slid his hand onto her upper thigh. “What do you say we get out of here?”
Get out of here?
This was moving way too fast for her. She did need to get out of here, but not with him. She shifted her leg away from his hand. “I thought we were just meeting for ice cream,” she stammered.
He pulled his hand back into his own lap. “Sorry. My mistake. I just thought—” He raised his eyes to her head.
Seriously? The hair again. How did adding pink dye to her tips suddenly make her seem like an adventurous chocolate-loving slut?
“I’m actually meeting my mom for dinner, so I should probably go.”
“Hey, listen. I’m sorry if I got the wrong idea.”
“I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not ready to jump into all that again.”
“I get that. But I’d really like to see you again.”
“I don’t know.” She pulled a crumpled five-dollar bill from her pocket and tossed it on the table.
“Hey, don’t worry about that. I invited you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve really got to go.”
“Can I call you? Or text you, maybe?”
“Sure, I guess,” she muttered then turned and made her way around the tables toward the door.
She didn’t really want him to call her. She wanted Fitz to call her.
Clay had seemed nice enough, except for that whole grabby hands/hook-up assumption, but maybe that’s how date
s went in college. Once again, she felt like the clueless dork who didn’t know what she was doing. She felt her cheeks warm and was glad he couldn’t see her face as she pushed through the door and out into the cool autumn air.
Her mind was full of conflicting thoughts as she walked across campus.
Was she really ready for this dating thing? And why had she agreed to go out with three different guys when there was really only one guy who she was interested in?
Oh yeah, because apparently, he wasn’t interested in her.
And what did all of this even matter when poor Brittany was never going to go out on a date again? She hadn’t heard anything more on the girl’s murder and some days she could almost pretend it never happened.
Thinking about it made her head hurt and her stomach feel queasy.
The light rain that had started as she walked across campus turned into a downpour, and she was drenched by the time she made it back to her apartment.
Hurrying up the sidewalk, she almost missed the blur of white under the porch.
She leaned down and saw the scruffy dog, its thin body drenched and trembling as it cowered against the rail.
Oh no. Poor thing.
Her heart broke for the miserable-looking little mutt. She knew what it was like to feel alone and unwanted, to be hungry and scared and not know who to trust.
It didn’t matter how long it took—she wasn’t leaving this dog out here to freeze in the rain. No way.
She crouched down, the moisture of the cold wet ground soaking through the knees of her jeans. She didn’t care. “Come here, pup. I’m not going to hurt you,” she cooed, wiping her sopping bangs from her eyes.
Holding out her hand, she spoke gently to the dog, coaxing it from the back corner of the porch.
It took several minutes of cajoling, but it finally inched forward enough for her to pet its small wet head. She’d only seen it under the porch the last several days, but it appeared to be malnourished and had probably been out here longer.
“Come on, sweetheart. Come with me, and I’ll get you something to eat.” The dog crept a little closer, almost—but not quite—touching her knee.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder and the dog scrambled up her legs and into her lap, pressing its trembling body against her chest.