Eli
What just happened?We were having a nice time at the coffee shop one minute, the next I call her sensitive and it’s over? Wait, before that I teased her about the pastry. The “sensitive” comment only sealed my fate.
What is wrong with me?
Why did I make a comment about her choosing the pastry with the highest caloric value? Hell, it wasn’t even true. I’m pretty sure the coffee cake with extra frosting on top would have been the most fattening. “God. I’m such a fucking idiot,” I say and in full voice so everyone sitting at tables around me hear me.
“Yeah, but you’re hot so I’ll let it slide.” I look to my right and search for the owner of the voice. When I spot her, she’s smirking. She’s my age. Dark hair. Beautiful. I should smile and flirt with her, but I can’t. I don’t want to. Because she’s not Emma Perkins.
Emma Perkins. The girl who makes me smile and laugh and feel like I can conquer the world just by talking to her. And that happened after only speaking to her for an hour. But I blew it.
Shaking my head, I set my coffee down, grab my bookbag, and leave the coffee shop. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a shit ton of homework, but that’s the last thing I want to do right now. Instead of doing what I should, I pull the phone out of my back pocket.
Me:Wanna get a beer?
Cody:Hell yes. Meet you at Paradise in 20?
Me: Sure.
Paradise Lounge is one of the bars close to campus the team likes to frequent, which means there’s going to be puck bunnies. But I don’t care about them. I just need a beer with my friend. Let’s see what he thinks about my fuck up with Emma.
* * *
“You fucked up,”Cody says right before biting into the biggest cheeseburger I’ve ever seen.
“Is that a quadruple burger?”
Chewing, he nods.
“You’re going to die of a heart attack at age thirty if you keep eating like that.”
With his mouth still partially full, he smiles and nods at his food. “What a way to go, though.” He points at my grilled chicken sandwich. “Life’s too short to eat healthy all the time, man.”
“I like grilled chicken.” I do.
“You didn’t even get fries.”
“I––” He’s right. Instead of arguing, I reach across the table and grab a handful of his fries and shove them in my mouth. “Happy?” I say, chewing on the fried potatoes.
“Asshole.” He wraps his arm around his plate and pulls it in until it’s pressing on his chest. “Hands on your own goddamn food.”
I smile and continue to chew until I wash it down with the rest of my beer. “So, what can I do?”
“Pay me back. Buy me another side of fries,” he says with a pout.
“No, dick. About Emma.”
He shrugs. “Apologize.”
“I did.”
“Grovel.”
“Grovel,” I say to myself. I’ve never had to do that, but I’ve seen my dad do it plenty. The guy fucks up constantly. It’s not a good look and one I’d prefer not to emulate, but maybe Cody’s right. “I could grovel.”
“Are you gonna buy me some more fries then?”
“No.” I laugh. The guy doesn’t need any more grease. “I’ll buy you a beer, though.” Not that he needs more beer either.
Cody frowns. “Fine.”
