The Prince and the Punk [EDITING]

Chapter 48

Janice

There's something bittersweet about reconnecting with Xavier. I missed him way more than I realized, and talking to him over the past few days has made me feel happier than I have in a while. There's something between us that feels so natural, I sometimes forget we were ever separated.

Still, though, I can't shake the feeling of guilt that gnaws at me after every one of our conversations. Our usual subject matter—cleaning up the mess created by Xavier's shitty, corrupt family—doesn't help. It does, however, provide a grim reminder of all the baggage he comes with.

Which makes me want to kick myself, because God, am I one to talk.

"Janice? Hello, Earth to Janice!"

I snap into reality, realizing I've way overfilled Max's coffee. The brown liquid spills over the rim of the cup and inches towards the edge of the counter like a tiny wave.

"Shit!" I hiss, slamming the pot down and scrambling find a towel.

Max stands and moves seats to avoid getting coffee-stained.

"What's with you lately?" he asks as I squat down and start to dig through a box of cleaning supplies. His tone is teasing, but the question is genuine.

Frowning, I start to mop up the mess, which has already made its way onto the floor. I groan and give up, leaning against the counter and raising a hand to my forehead.

"Janice?"

It strikes me that I haven't answered Max. It also strikes me that I should probably be answering him now. And that if I keep standing here like a zombie, I'll just look even crazier.

So I just say, "Yep," and snap my head up.

"Are you... okay?"

"I really hate that question," I mumble, mostly to myself.

Danny, ever the punctual one, chooses this moment to waltz out of the kitchen holding a plate.

"Cheeseburger for my favorite customer!" he announces. "Personally delivered so you can give your compliments directly to the chef." He theatrically sets the burger in front of Max with the top bun off, allowing us all to see the ketchup smiley face he's drawn on the patty. Leaning on the counter and wearing an idiotic grin, he whips his towel in a circle and flips it over his shoulder.

I can't help smiling at my goofy coworker. Max chuckles, and Danny frowns. He was probably hoping for a more lively reaction.

"Where's my laughter and applause?" he asks.

"Janice probably spilled it," Max says, side-eyeing me.

Danny snorts. "Did she tell you how she almost set the kitchen on fire this morning?"

"No, she didn't."

"Come on, guys, you know coordination's never been my strong suit," I interject before Danny can reveal more of today's gaffes.

"No, it's not, but this isn't quirky, awkward Janice—this is absentminded, troubled Janice," Max counters.

"This is drunk Janice, too," Danny adds, earning glares from me and Max.

"Drunk Janice is a lot more fun than this," I say flatly.

"Yeah, so..." Max starts.

"So..."

"So what's up?" He looks expectantly at me.

I glance at Danny for help, but his curious expression tells me I'm out of allies.