Misters & Mochas (High School Clowns & Coffee Grounds Book 2)

by A. J. Macey

  “Works for me,” Jesse responded, and Kingston nodded before smiling at me. My cheeks warming at his attention, I turned to face forward, watching the empty fields go by. With the weather change and Halloween finally over, the corn stalks had been cut down, leaving barren patches of land in their wake. It only took a few minutes until we were pulling in front of my house, my car sitting in the driveway since Reid had picked me up today.

  The boys busied themselves with putting their bags in the basement, pulling out what they would need to study or work on as I made my way into the kitchen, my phone buzzing with a text before I could grab Reid his soda.

  Mom: Had a last-minute snafu here at the office with one of the event’s plans. Won’t be home until late. Rain check on dinner?

  My throat constricted, but I swiped the tears away and texted back, shoving my phone in my back pocket after turning it off. Opening the fridge, I came face to face with an empty appliance—nothing, not even a gallon of curdled milk on the shelves. Shoving the door shut, I scanned the cabinets and found only the butt of a loaf of bread left in its bag.

  Just when I thought the week couldn’t get any worse.

  “Wow,” Reid breathed as he looked over my shoulder. “Were you this low on groceries when we were here yesterday?”

  “I don’t know. I just had some water, and my mom made both of us a peanut butter sandwich when she got home,” I mumbled, my lip finding its way in between my teeth, a nervous habit I’d never been able to break.

  “Is your mom going to the store?” Jesse asked, looking in the freezer before the refrigerator. “Because there’s literally nothing in here, Em.”

  “I, uh, don’t know. I wrote out a list last week,” I explained, pointing to the notepad as my cheeks bloomed in a wave of heat that had nothing to do with my boys being sweethearts. The warmth only grew as I noticed it was collecting dust.

  “Let’s hit the store before studying,” Kingston suggested, looking at me with a sympathetic smile.

  “Agreed. I don’t want to know what Cali girl is like when she’s hangry,” Reid joked, squeezing me lightly. Despite the embarrassment flooding my system, I couldn’t stop the smile that curled my lips. We made our way back out to Reid’s Jeep, but before Reid could walk around to the driver’s seat, I tugged on his sleeve.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, “for trying to help me feel better.”

  “Always, Cali girl.” A wide smile appeared, his teeth bright against his olive skin and dark five o’clock shadow before he softly pressed his lips to mine. “Now, let’s go get some food, maybe some treats, and we can blow off studying and watch some movies.”

  “Only if you wear your onesie,” I teased, climbing into my seat. Reid’s hazel eyes lit up.

  “You got it.”

  Hopefully, the total doesn’t come to more than what I have on me; otherwise, we’ll be screwed.

  Well, so much for that, I grumbled, staring at the total.

  Forty dollars over the thirty I had with me, meaning I either had to magically make it appear in the next thirty seconds or put half of this back.

  “Here you go,” Reid handed over a wad of cash before I could pull out what I had in my wallet.

  “Reid,” I hissed under my breath, staring up at him in shock. He gave me a cocky smile but didn’t say anything. “Seriously, you don’t have to do that, babe.”

  “Just let us, Babydoll. We don’t want you to stress more than you already are,” Kingston explained softly, his hand rubbing my lower back in comforting circles. I sighed, biting my tongue as the cashier gave Reid his change. Jesse had taken the cart from the bagger and was waiting for us.

  “So,” Reid started, his tone holding a hint of something I couldn’t identify, setting me on edge, my eyes narrowing on him as I waited. “Is there a reason your mom hasn’t been to the store yet?”

  “She’s been really busy lately,” I explained with a shrug, knowing it was a terrible excuse, but I didn’t want to talk about it or be reminded how much my broken home hurt.

  When they didn’t say anything, I turned from loading up the last bag into the back and saw their shared gaze, thinned lips, and clenched jaws. I knew sooner or later, I would have to tell them just how much my life had started to fall apart.

  Later, though, because there is no way in heck, I want to do it now.

  I already have too much stress.

  November 21st

  Something I learned while prepping for the ACT—only two words in the English language contain all the vowels in order: Facetiously and Abstemiously!

  #TheMoreYouKnow #StudyingWithJesse #ThankfulThursday

  “Want me to come in?” I questioned as I pulled up to the rundown house. Jesse’s shoulders tensed, his head shaking violently as he glanced at me.

  “No, stay here, it’ll be real quick,” he tried to reassure me before practically sprinting into the little ramshackle building. His behavior was odd—stiff and abrupt—but it was Jesse, so it wasn’t necessarily out of character, not to mention the issues we’d struggled with the last few days, so I let it go.

  As I waited for him to return, I turned up the radio, jamming out to this week’s hottest hit, and before the song even ended, Jesse beelined from the front door into the passenger seat.

  “Okay, go,” he exclaimed breathlessly.

  Taking his cue, I shifted from park to drive, making our way to Coffee Grounds, our official/unofficial study location. After the crap yesterday with my lack of groceries, we had decided to push our studying to today. Plus, Jesse said I had made a lot of progress and could do with a day or two off. The longer we drove, the more Jesse seemed to relax, but even when I pulled into the lot, he still was antsier than usual.

  “Hey, you okay?” I asked quietly as we sank into one of the open tables.

  “Yeah,” he murmured, his tone laced with a hint of steel in his attempt to not have me push. Narrowing my eyes, I debated whether to keep questioning, but he opened his mouth, content to focus on me instead. “How are you feeling? After everything with Dylan and the other students?”

  “Ugh,” I groaned, slumping in my chair at the thought of what had been happening during lunch and in the halls. “Irritated. It’s over, though, at least for now.”

  “I don’t get why they feel the need to be all up in our business, but it’s really starting to be a nuisance,” Jesse bit out, angry on my behalf at how the rest of the kids were behaving

  “Yeah, it is,” I mumbled, my lips curling into a frown as I looked at my ACT study book, my motivation to actually study diminishing after the crappy week I’d had.

  “Want to do something else?” Jesse murmured, his fingers coming to brush the back of my hand ever so lightly. “You’ve been making a lot of progress, and if you’re not in the mindset for studying, it won’t be much help.”

  “What do you suggest?” I asked, glancing over at him and shutting the book. Jesse hummed slightly, glancing over his shoulder.

  “We could get some coffee, maybe go see what else the strip mall on the other side of the parking lot has. You know... if you wanted...” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. My lip curled up, the little butterflies soaring at his suggestion.

  “I’d love that, Jess,” I assured. “Want anything to eat?” I asked, starting to get up before Jesse hopped up.

  “You sit, I’ll get it. Your usual, right?”

  “Yes, please, and a plain bagel with cream cheese.” Nodding, he pecked my cheek and stepped into the quickly growing line. I could feel my cheek burning and my smile growing at Jesse’s sweet gesture.

  “Here you go, Em,” Jesse stated as he set down my cup and plate, the scent of toasted bread filling my nose.

  “Thank you,” I exclaimed, carefully smearing the cream cheese on the bagel, so I didn’t burn my fingers. “What did you get?” I asked before stuffing a bite into my mouth.

  “A mocha latte and a cream cheese Danish,” he explained, taking a bite. “It’s pretty good, want a bit
e?” I shook my head when he offered it out, pointing to my own bagel.

  “This massive thing will fill me up. Besides, that’s yours, enjoy it,” I teased. “So, other than all the crap with the other students, how’s my Jesse doing?”

  “Your Jesse, huh?” His lips quirked up, and even with his deep skin tone, I saw the tiniest flush of pink as he looked at me. “It’s going, just making it through the school days until we get to graduation.”

  “Oooh, so you’re one of those focused on getting out of high school,” I hummed. “But yeah, same here. I was thinking of doing something different with my hair. Thoughts?” I asked, randomly letting my nerves get to me when I realized I was basically on a date with Jesse. “Did you know the average person has around one hundred thousand to one hundred and fifty thousand hairs on their head?”

  Stop talking, Emma.

  “I didn’t know that,” Jesse replied, his lips smashed together to keep his laughter contained. “What were you thinking of doing with it?”

  “I’m not sure, maybe change the color? The burgundy maroon is almost faded out. I could cut it or add some highlights?” I rambled.

  “I like how it is, but if you want to do something, I think anything will look good on you, Em. I’m pretty partial to the pink coloring you had, though.”

  I perked up, Jesse’s gentle, honeyed voice music to my ears in the quickly growing conversation in Coffee Grounds as the post-work crowd came in for a quick pick-me-up.

  “Maybe I’ll do that, then,” I added. “I was pretty partial to it too.”

  “You ready to go?” Jesse asked after I finished my last bite and chugged the last of my coffee. Nodding, I got up and followed Jesse to the trash can. The air held a bite, the warmth from the coffee shop’s interior seeping away as we walked hand in hand across the parking lot to the strip mall.

  It looked to be new construction, the stone face smooth and modern, the signs for each store popping against the tan. We stayed silent as we leisurely looked between the different storefronts until one caught my eye.

  “What about this?” I asked, pointing to the bright colored sign, Painting and Co.

  “You want to do a painting class? I thought you didn’t like drawing,” Jesse countered, looking at the schedule posted in the window. “Looks like they have one starting in about ten minutes.”

  “I like drawing, I just suck at it. Painting, though, I haven’t done that since middle school art class, so what do you say? Up for something new, Mr. Bookworm?” I teased, pulling a laugh from Jesse. Smirking at me, he held open the door with a challenging glint in his dark chocolate gaze.

  “Welcome to Painting and Co! Our class will begin here shortly. Have you two been here before?” the young woman at the front desk asked cheerfully. Shaking our heads, we stepped up, signing in and paying the class fee. “You two are all set, and all the needed supplies are set up at the easels, so feel free to pick any of the open chairs.”

  Excitement had me antsy as I breathed in the scent of art supplies and sank onto one of the open stools. Jesse seemed hesitant as he plopped down at the easel across from me, his gaze darting around the space curiously. I opened my mouth to ask him if he’d done a lot of art stuff when the instructor started the class.

  Glancing to my left, I tried my best to follow along with the steps, and by the end, I was pretty proud of my painting. The vintage blue-green of the truck stood out from the fall leaves behind it, and when the instructor said we could put a phrase or family name on the tailgate and something fun on the license plate, I smirked.

  I painted ‘For Jesse’ on the back of the truck, followed by a ‘LUVEM’ on the license plate, then signed my initials in the bottom corner. Aww, how cute!

  “You all done, Em?” Jesse murmured, glancing over the canvas at me, his eyes lighting up.

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I teased. “On the count of three?” He nodded. Counting down, I grabbed the back of my painting to turn toward him. “One, two, three.”

  Holy crap!

  Jesse sure can paint.

  “Wow,” I breathed, staring wide-eyed at his canvas. It was the same painting, but the colors flowed together, the painting more lifelike than mine. “You totally could be an artist, Jesse, that’s amazing.”

  “Really?” His head tilted as his brows furrowed, his eyes looking to his canvas. “You don’t think it looks bad?”

  “Psh, of course not. It’s better than mine,” I exclaimed with a laugh.

  “I love yours, and I love the truck dedication,” he murmured with a wide, white-toothed smile. Glancing at his once more, I saw he had done something similar with ‘My Em’ on the truck and ‘BSTGF’ on the license plate.

  “Aww,” I cooed, my heart skipping a beat at the sweet gesture. “I love it, Jess.” Leaning around the easels, I pressed my lips to his, happy we decided to come here.

  Maybe I can get him to paint me something else.

  I would love to have a little gallery of just Jesse’s artwork.

  2

  November 26th

  I seem to be a Brad magnet... Bradnet? Where I go, he follows. What did I ever do to this creep?

  #BoatshoeBrad #CreeperAlert #TickedOffTuesday

  It had been a while since I had been called to see my counselor, Ms. Rogers, but I found myself wandering the empty halls toward her office with a call slip clutched in my hands. I had just reached the main floor and turned the corner to walk the last bit across the entryway to the door when a pair of ice-cold, predatory eyes found mine, a cruel smile curling his lips as he stepped in front of me. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, but I didn’t cower away, my fingers tightening into fists as anger poured through me.

  “Hello, Em,” Brad murmured softly. My teeth ground at the way Jesse’s nickname was twisted by his slimy tone.

  “Don’t call me that,” I hissed, trying to step around him, but just like in the bathroom at the party, he stepped in front of me and blocked my escape.

  “Why not? Oh,” he hummed and nodded, “that’s right, that’s Jesse Parker’s nickname for you. How about Babydoll or Cali girl? Are those any better?” His was tone was low, taunting as he took a half step closer.

  “Back off,” I exclaimed, “or I’ll scream.”

  “Maybe I want to hear you scream,” he challenged. A shiver worked down my spine, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop the shudder that radiated through me, and Brad’s eyes lit up.

  “Mr. Warland,” Ms. Rogers called out, her tone sharp as she glared at him. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Somewhere that isn’t harassing another student?”

  “Oh, of course, Mimi,” he smarted, a sickly-sweet smile taking over his face. “I didn’t mean to make Em late for anything.” My lips pursed at his words, but it seemed Ms. Rogers wasn’t fazed by his fake persona.

  “I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah, freaking right, creep,” I ground out under my breath as he walked away. Huffing in rage, I nearly stomped to where Ms. Rogers waited, my anger fueled by the adrenaline pumping through me. We didn’t speak as we made our way to her office, the door closing behind us, the only thing allowing me to calm.

  “Are you alright, Emma?” she asked softly, her hand coming to rub my shoulder blade in comforting circles. It was odd at first, but the motion helped the anxiety building within me slow.

  “Uh, yeah,” I mumbled, finally deflating. “A bit shook up, but I’m okay.”

  “Just remember, you can come to me whenever you need. I won’t make you talk about it if you don’t want, but my door is always open if you need some place to escape to,” she offered with a friendly smile.

  “Thank you.” I knew my smile was brittle, but for the life of me, I couldn’t make it any wider—flashes of Brad’s hands on me keeping that dark cloud on my shoulders.

  “Before we get into why I called you in, do you want me to file a student conduct complaint against Mr. Warland?” She must have read my confused expression
because she continued. “There are different reasons we can file one on behalf of a student, one being harassment. Mr. Warland purposely stopping you, making you uncomfortable, and not allowing you to make it to your destination all seem like valid reasons to do so.”

  “Uh, I don’t want to stir up any more trouble,” I started staying.

  “This wouldn’t just be for the school’s documentation, it’s also for legal matters, so it’s formally documented, and proper action can be taken if the behaviors continue,” she explained, her eyes holding a knowing glint that conveyed what her words didn’t.

  It might help save Jesse and solidify my case against Brad.

  “So, would you like to hold off, or would you like to file the complaint?” she asked softly, no judgment in her question.

  At least I have one ally at this school besides my guys and my friends.

  “Yeah, let’s file the complaint,” I murmured, still feeling rattled from the confrontation, but I knew, in the end, it would be best for Jesse and me. She gave me an encouraging smile, patting my shoulder as she grabbed a notepad and jotting down some thoughts before turning to me.

  “I will file that after you head back to class. The reason I called you in is to check how studying is going with Mr. Parker and see if you’re feeling more confident to take a practice ACT next month,” she explained.

  While I was thankful she wouldn’t press me, I couldn’t bring myself to drum up much enthusiasm for the current topic of conversation.

  Stupid test anxiety. Stupid Brad.

  “Studying is going well, and we’re still meeting most Wednesdays,” I explained, “I think I’ll be ready, but maybe we can make it a bit later in December? Would there be enough time to schedule the actual test for January if we do that?”

  “We can definitely do it later in the month. It might be a bit close, but we can schedule later in January for your actual test, so we have enough time to get your results back. After the January slot, we will have one more chance in mid-February. That will be the last to make the cut off for fall semester for both UNO and UNL,” she explained, jotting down notes on her pad of paper. I nodded, ignoring the worry flooding my stomach at the deadline.