Hi Atticus,
Tomorrow lunchtime works perfectly. Should we meet at Professors Lane Cafe again? Does 12 suit you?
Edwin.
His reply came a moment later.
Edwin,
I will see you then and introduce myself as Atticus so there’s no chance of a mixup.
Atticus.
Once again, I found myself standing outside of Professors Lane Cafe. I stood under a tree, firmly out of the way, so there was no risk of being mistakenly thought to be in the queue. Atticus had messaged me to let me know he was on his way and that he would be wearing a tan coat.
I checked the time on my phone. I’d come a few minutes early, so I killed a few minutes by fixing my appearance on my phone camera.
My stomach felt tangled. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous because it wasn’t as if I had high hopes for Atticus, not really. Had I felt nervous on Monday? I must’ve, but I couldn’t remember it. I think it all melted away as soon as I started talking to Leo.
“Excuse me, are you Edwin?” A voice asked.
I looked up and into eyes of the most attractive man I had ever seen.
5
Okay, maybe he wasn’t themostattractive guy I’d ever seen. There were movie stars and singers, and this city was filled with billboards featuring models with perfect faces. But Atticus was definitely one of the most attractive guys I’d seen in real life.
As he’d said in his email, he was an inch shorter than me. His hair was blond, but I’d been picturing Leo’s dark honey hair, and Atticus’s was light, almost silvery. He was caucasian, and his fair skin was literally flawless. Mum would’ve described it as glass skin.
As promised, he wore a tan coat. Underneath it, he wore a black turtleneck and slim-fitting dark blue jeans. The clothes were simple, but somehow, they looked like the cutting edge of fashion on him.
The next thing I noticed about him was that he was skinny. Idol skinny. Figure skater skinny. Runway model skinny.
“Are you a model?” I blurted out.
“No,” he said. “Are you Edwin?”
“Oh, right, yes I am. I’m assuming you’re Atticus?”
“That’s right.” He put his hand out. “Atticus Sinclair.”
“Edwin Kim,” I said as I shook his hand because we were doing full names now.
“Nice to meet you.” He let go and turned his attention to the cafe. “Do you want to order?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I followed him to the end of the line, and his gaze roamed over the menu that was displayed on the back wall.
“What do you think you’ll get?” I asked.
“Probably a mocha. What about you?”
“Matcha lattes are my go-to,” I said. “I’m not a fan of coffee, but if I had to drink something with coffee in it, it’d be a mocha.”
He nodded. His posture was dignified — straight back, chin up — which made me think of models, figure skaters, and even ballerinas. He was still like a mannequin. Almost…untouchable.
“Have you ever tried matcha lattes?” I asked.
