“I know,” I answered. “What’s going on here?”
We watched in silent admiration as Preston deftly put together the acai bowl, keeping up a running patter of small talk. He had described her well, I thought; her hair was bleached almost white, with wide streaks of bright green framing her narrow face. She reminded me a little of a mischievous pixie.
After she’d paid for her order, the pixie yee waved to Preston . . . and left the juice bar.
“Damn,” I muttered. “I was hoping she’d sit down to eat, so we could maybe get a better read on her.”
Preston sighed. “She almost never stays to eat her food here. I think maybe she’s on her way to work or something. Sometimes on Wednesdays, she’ll sit down for a few minutes.”
“Why didn’t you ask her name?” Sophia demanded. “You were smooth, Preston. Super smooth. You were totally charming her.”
He dropped his elbows onto the counter and buried his face in his hands. “I know. I was channeling Harry, pretending I was him. But I couldn’t find an opening to introduce myself so she’d do the same. I’m pathetic. Do you know what I did the other day? I made a big fuss over the girl in front of her in line, just because I thought it might make her jealous. I’m such a loser.”
“You’re not a loser. You just have to find the right tactic for this particular yee. Now you know what doesn’t work . . . so it’s time to go for the direct route. Find out her name. Ask her if she’d like to go out with you sometime.”
He straightened up and gave a decisive nod. “Next time, for sure.”
“You can do it. I have faith in you.” With a smirk, I added, “And speaking of faith . . . guess who has a date with Faith Two tomorrow?”
“Harry, you dog.” Preston held up his hand for me to high five. “How did you do that?”
Next to me, Sophia sniffed loudly but said nothing.
“She wanted to return my batter power box, but we kept missing each other at the gym,” I explained. “We’ve been texting almost every day since we met—nothing big, just, like, hey, how are you, are you climbing today, I got a new battery for my car finally . . . so after everything fell apart with Tyla, I thought, why not go for it with Faith Two?”
“Why not?” echoed Sophia.
I ignored her. “So I texted and suggested we meet for a drink in Winter Park. It’s going to be pretty out tomorrow. I thought we’d go up on the deck at Park Avenue Brews and watch the sunset. Doesn’t that sound romantic?”
“I just might swoon,” Sophia cooed, but I sensed that she was mocking me.
“That’s going to be legendary.” Preston nodded. “I have a good feeling about this one, Harry. She might be the one.”
“Oh, my God. You two and all this theonenonsense. How do you even know there’s just one person out there in the world for each of us?” Sophia was always the least romantic and the most pragmatic of the three of us, but it sounded as though she’d lost all of her patience now. “Maybe there’s only the perfect one for right now, and then we end up settling for the best of the right nows.”
“Wow, Soph. When did you get so cynical?” I twisted around to frown at her. “Here I thought you’d be all full of hope and sunshine, since you’re dating—what’s his name again? Zack?”
“Zeke,” she corrected through clenched teeth. “And yes, I did go out on a date with him, and yes, he’s great. But that doesn’t mean I’m changing who I am. Just because I meet one decent guy doesn’t necessarily equate to a shift in my overall philosophy of life.” She slid off her stool. “You know what? I’m not in the mood to talk about this anymore. I’m heading out.” She raised a hand in farewell. “See you later, Preston.”
Ignoring me completely, she pivoted and stalked out of the juice bar.
“What’s wrong with her lately?” I shook my head, glancing at Preston. “Is it just me, or has she been extra touchy? She’s so prickly, it’s like I can’t ever say anything right.”
“Eh.” Preston shrugged. “Maybe she’s just dealing with something she doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you about.”
“Is that my fault?” I shot back. “I’ve been a prince to her. I didn’t even give her that much shit after the whole Tyla mess. She could’ve warned me about that—she should have told me I was walking into a friggin’ nudist camp, and she didn’t. She let me go there, knowing I was going to make a fool of myself. And I didn’t harp on that. Much.”
“She tried to tell you,” Preston pointed out, less than helpfully. “You shut her down every time. If I’m remembering right, you even accused her of being jealous.”
“I don’t recall that,” I answered loftily. “Anyway, the point is that she’s been so sensitive recently. I can’t do anything without her jumping down my throat. And what’s with this Zeke guy, anyway? Do you think he’s real, or did she just make him up, because she’s jealous of you and me finding women?”
“Dude.” Preston scowled. “That’s crazy. He’s for sure real. I met him, and he’s great.”
“You met him?” This was the first I’d heard of it. “Where?”
“They came in here together. Sophia introduced us. Zeke was all gentlemanly, pulling out her chair and being sweet and crap. I think he’s really into our girl. I’m happy for her. Maybe you should try being happy for her, too.”
“I am,” I ground out. “Of course, I am. I just . . . want to make sure she’s not jumping into something too fast. That’s all.”
