The Coffee Pact

7| Oh boy

Breakfast this morning is frozen waffles. Mom must have been in a rush because they're only half cooked. I pop them back into the toaster for another few minutes and glance at the clock. I'm running late, and the only way I'll get to school on time now is if I catch the bus.

I swallow hard and grab my things, heading down the street. It's freezing out, the bus stop a mere few feet away. I tell myself that there's not much choice: I can either catch the bus and arrive on time, or walk in the cold and be late. I will my feet to take a step forward, but I'm frozen with indecision.

The bus pulls up, and suddenly, it's hard to breathe. I panic and hoist my bag across my shoulder, hurrying in the opposite direction. I'm breathing hard, my eyes now prickled with tears. Why am I so pathetic?

By the time I get to school, I'm in a sour mood. I'm so late to English that even Jake is there before me, sitting in his seat with his legs outstretched, his eyes honed in on the clock. They fall to me as soon as I enter, watching as I dump my bag and tiredly slump into my seat. Miss Duncan stops mid-discussion to highlight my lateness, making everyone turn to look at me. Jake looks too, his eyebrows drawn together at my disheveled appearance. I slump further into my chair, hating this day already.

When class is over, Miss Duncan asks Jake to wait behind and gushes about his essay introduction while I eavesdrop from the doorway.

I smile a little, despite myself. As much as I'd like to take credit for this, I can't. Most of the ideas that made the final cut were Jake's ideas, because it turns out, when he's not being an arrogant, egotistical quarterback, he's actually pretty smart.

He smiles at Miss Duncan, swinging his backpack over his shoulder before walking towards me. When we're both out of earshot, he swoops down a little so that his mouth is near my ear and then lowers his voice. "You just saved my life, Hope."

When he pulls back, he's smiling. I hate myself for it, but my stomach erupts with the tiniest butterflies. There's just this power he has, like when he smiles at you, you've somehow done something to earn it.

I smile back, and for a second I forget that he's Jake Carpenter, quarterback of the football team. I forget that we're standing in the middle of the hallway. All I can think about is how nice it would feel to see him smile at me again.

Oh boy.

"Hey," he says, frowning. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit, Hope. Are you okay?"

For about a second, I want to be honest. I want to tell him that I'm not okay, that actually, I'm on the verge of combustion, but then Alice passes us on our left, and Jake's head snaps up and his eyes fix on Alice, who saunters towards her locker. "Hey, I'll catch up with you later," he says without looking at me, and then he's gone.

I watch as he walks up to Alice, his expression determined. He looks confident, but nervous, like he doesn't know how to act. I thought it was just us mere mortals who feel that way around the people we like, but even the Jake's of this world have their moments of uncertainty.

Alice says something, and Jake smiles. The pair of them look made for one another, like a starring couple in a cheesy rom-com. And maybe when Alice hears him talk like he did yesterday, she'll finally change her mind about him.

I'm pondering this when Priya arrives. She takes one look at me looking at them and raises her eyebrows. "What's going on with you two?"

"Nothing." I say it too quickly, like I have something to hide; I pray she doesn't notice. "He asked me to tutor him for the next few months, so I am. I need the money."

She watches me carefully, and I try my best to hold her gaze. The second I look away, she will pounce. "Since when?" she asks.

I shrug nonchalantly. "Not long. Stop looking at me like that. It's not a big deal."

"It is," she says, folding her arms. "You know as well as I do that they don't talk to anyone outside of their group. Now all of a sudden you and Jake are hanging out? And you didn't even tell me?"

"We're not hanging out. It's not like we're enjoying each other's company, Priya. I'm helping him study and he's giving me money. It's a business transaction."

She looks at me like she doesn't quite believe me, but the bell rings before she can argue. I grab her arm and we start off down the corridor, swept away with the crowd.

I glance over my shoulder at Jake. He's still deep in conversation with Alice, but I'm too far away to hear what they're saying. He's smiling though, that same cheeky smile he makes when he's being cocky or sarcastic; I wonder if she's falling for it.

If Alice were one of the customers in the coffee house, I'd think she was a model getting her coffee fix before an early day of shooting. Or maybe an actress or a movie star. The kind of girl who stands out to you, even in a crowd. The kind of girl you can't help but notice. Which leads me to the question: if some girls are born to stand out, are others born to be invisible?

***

As soon as I get home, I head straight to my room, put on a face mask, and lie on my bed. I stay like this until the sun goes down, ignoring the pings of my phone. The headache is worse, but the shaking is less. I wish it were the other way around.

My mother barges in at one point and says, "Are you okay, Mia? Do you want something to eat?"

I'm about to tell her I don't feel like eating, but my stomach betrays me and lets out a grumble. "Yes please."

We have pasta for dinner. Mom spends most of it talking about the new book club she's joined, so all I have to do is eat and nod, eat and nod. I'm thinking about Jake as I do it, wondering what he and Alice had talked about earlier.

Then I remember I don't care. Or shouldn't. What Jake talks about with Alice is none of my business, and the sooner I help him pull his grades up, the sooner my life can get back to normal. Caffeine and all.

I skip my regular trip to The Coffee Pod. I don't particularly feel like conversing with Jake, and now that I'm not allowed to drink coffee, I don't see the point. All I end up doing is staring at the counter, imagining sticking my tongue under the coffee machine. So instead I get out my kindle and lose myself to a story about a girl falling for her new self-defense trainer.

Jake texts me around eleven, asking where I am. I tell him I'm forgoing my trip to the coffee house tonight, and that he shouldn't be texting me out of tutoring hours.

It's not that I'm being rude or anything, but this is starting to get weird. Or, it's starting to feel less weird, which is even more worrying. It feels like I'm starting to get used to Jake, and I don't like it one bit.

I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, I'm jerking awake from another nightmare. It's the same as the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that. There's a knife to my throat and I'm bloody and bruised, calling out for help, but no one can hear me.

My face is wet with tears. Or maybe it's sweat. My heart pounds away, a thundering drum that I can hear in my ears. I try to keep it steady, try to push back the thoughts, but they're fresh in my mind. As desperate as I am to win this bet, I don't think I can take this anymore.

A/N

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