08. You Don't Know My Bladder

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Romeo and I underestimated how busy our favorite place to get hot cocoa would be. It seemed to be everyone's favorite spot that night. Wylde Beans was a cafe that served coffee and freshly baked pastries year round. But during the winter months, they brought out their hot chocolate menu.

For only two months a year, they served everything from regular hot chocolate to cocoa bombs. They had a million different cocoa recipes--vegan, spicy, alcoholic. Our favorite was the peanut butter one. It was topped with a Reese Cup. Romeo always let me have his.

Christmas songs played overhead even though it was nearly February and the entire place smelled like cinnamon. In a few days, the faux-frost covered windows and paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling would be replaced with red and pink hearts. I was going to miss this winter wonderland.

"We should've used the drive-thru," Romeo complained as we slowly inched forward in line.

"We walked here."

"We could still go back and get your mom's car," he suggested, fully serious.

"And lose our spots in line? No, thank you." There were only five people ahead of us. Since we've been in line, about five more people hopped in line behind us. "Besides, my mom doesn't trust your driving."

"You could drive."

"Without a license?" I knew how to drive. I'd never tell my mom because she'd have a heart attack, but I learned with Indy's help over the summer. If I didn't need her signature to get a license, I'd have one by now.

Romeo shrugged. "I won't tell."

Forget a heart attack. If I got arrested for driving with the added bonus of not having a license, my mom would simply drop dead. Then she'd haunt me the rest of my life, making sure I never did anything like that again.

"We're almost there," I told him, patting his shoulder.

Someone behind us wasn't as patient, grumbling about the staff needing to get it together and threatening to walk out. An employee who was running around busing tables stopped to assure the person that everyone was working as quickly as they could.

My head whipped around at the familiar voice. Sure enough, it was Andre Walker. His biceps bulging under the black shirt he wore under a Wylde Beans apron. He did a double take when he passed us on his way back to the employee only area. He couldn't stop, but he did flash me a cute, perfect smile.

When did he start working there?

Outside of World History, that was the first time we interacted since lunch last week. Indy's "friends or lovers" question popped back into my head. I still didn't have an answer. By the time we put in our orders and found seats, I'd worked my stomach into knots thinking about what I wanted with Andre.

I was over thinking it again. Or maybe I was using him as a distraction from what really bothered me: my mom and the Raider's sweatshirt. She never brought up my dad. Ever. How would I even approach the subject?

"You know the straw isn't edible, right?" My gaze snapped up to Romeo, who sat across from me. He'd already finished most of his drink. His Reese Cup sat on a napkin between us, waiting for me to take it.

I pulled away from my now chewed-up straw, trying to laugh it off. "Anything is edible if you don't choke."

His brows creased. "That doesn't...what's wrong?"

"My brain hurts," I confessed, hiding my face in my hands. After taking a few breaths, I shook it off. "What'd your brother do this time?"

I didn't want to talk about my daddy issues with him. Not yet.

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