Chapter 4

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Even though I've been to the cafe multiple times, I still hesitantly step towards the table May and I usually occupy. No matter what time we get here, morning or night, the room's always crowded with too many people. May once pointed out that five people isn't 'too many'. Since earlier that day she said not to believe anything she says for the next 48 hours, I took that word of hers. 

     May's sipping her coffee as if she's part of the Royal Family (well, the one I'd imagine). She's got her pinky out as she's delicately consuming the tiny amount of loaded caffeine. When she sets it down, May smacks her lips. 

     I wait until she's done with her ritual to sit across from her. "What happened today?" May asks, not bothering to tell me how my day was. This should tell you how well she knows me. 

     I twiddle with my thumbs. "The people in my class messed up my recital," I say. "I didn't get a chance to finish it before I freaked and ran out of the room."

     A barista carefully places a lemon bar on the table in front of me. Giving me a caring smile, he goes back to behind the counter. I guess this is a sign that I spend too much time here. If an employee at a cafe knows what a customer likes to have before they order, much less to never move too fast around an anxious person--

     "What were they doing?" May gives me a confused look. "They didn't mimic Jules, did they?"

     "Pursue a career as a mind reader, why don't you?" I mutter. 

     May shakes her head no. "I'd be accused of being a scam. No way, Jose." 

     I wait quietly until she's repeated her drinking ritual before asking, "How was your day?"

     She smiles. That can't be a good thing. "I met a very nice boy today. Actually, we bumped into each other while I was on my way here. In fact, we started talking about--" 

     To spare you the boredom, May purrs her way through the 'like at first sight' story she feeds me at least once every couple of months. While she uses her fingers to tick off the things the 'very nice boy' has that she likes, I cautiously pick up the lemon bar and take tiny bites around it. I know it's good, but you never know. Someone might screw up a batch. 

     "--did you hear what I said?" May asks. I looked up from the bar. "That's a no. I said, he has a friend who's looking for some company, and I immediately thought of you. I think you'd be a good candidate." 

     I slink into my chair as I blush. "Um, I'm good," I say quietly. 

     She rolls her eyes. "I'm not saying he's looking for a fuck buddy. Logan said he just wants some romance."

     "Why are you setting this up? You've barely met this guy, and the friend he mentioned wasn't even there when you met." Someone rowdy sits at a table next to us. He starts talking loudly to whoever he's talking to on his phone. I lower my voice. "I'm good, May. I'm not on the market for . . . anything."

     May looks inside her cup to check how much of her drink remains. "Okay, but tell me if you are." She sounds sincere about it. I like that about May; she's the cliched girl who pushes things too far and says 'deets' instead of details, but she doesn't do that to me. Much. 

     The guy is louder now as he's arguing. Out of instinct I take the pills out. After I swallow the dose down, I look at my friend. "What kind of coffee is that?" I ask. "I'm thinking of getting one myself."

     My friend raises an eyebrow. "You do realize you're changing the subject?"

     "I'm aware of that."

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