“I’m over this shit,” I slumped further into the corner of the bench and sighed, feeling so damn sorry for myself.
Great, and here comes the pity party.
Frustrated, I walked the town’s outskirts, maybe a couple of miles in all, before ending up at Biscuit in the Basket—BBs to anyone local. The name originated from a hockey-scoring term, which was apt, given that the owner’s son was a former professional hockey player. The place was warm and humming with quiet chatter, a contrast to the cold, dark streets outside. I slid into a corner booth, still tense, and almost immediately, Molly, stalwart waitress of BBs and also my assistant Jamie’s mom, appeared with a bright smile, setting down water and handing me a menu that smelled faintly of flour and butter, the edges curled from too many hands.
“Coffee, sweetheart?” she asked, then lowered her voice. “Not that it’sas good as yours.”
I slipped off my jacket and gave her the smile she deserved for being nice to me. “Please, Mrs. Carpenter.”
“I said, call me Molly.” Then she hovered, and I blinked up at her. “Can I ask you a quick something?” That wasn’t how our script was supposed to go. She asked me if I wanted my usual, and I said “please”. That was it.
“Of course,” I said when she didn’t immediately launch into whatever she wanted to ask me.
Molly shifted her tray to one arm, giving me a look. “Well, Jamie’s got this big project in history—something about, I don’t know, the dust wars or something?” She winced, and I didn’t jump in to offer a solution because God knows what she meant by dust wars. “Anyway, would it be okay if he asked you for some advice? He told me you’re into history, but he’s kind of shy.”
He is? To me, Jamie was super confident and not at all backward in coming forward.
“He’s such a star in history,” she said with pride, “and he just wants to learn.”
“I don’t really do history at school senior level,” I said quickly, and then winced internally. There it was again—that arrogance. Since when had I fallen out of love with the kind of history that had shaped me into the man I was today? But I forced a smile and added, “But, sure. Tell him to bring his project in, and I’ll see if I can give him some pointers.”
“Thank you. Your usual?”
“Please.”
“One pancake stack, with bacon, coming up, plus a slice of Kai Pie.” She hurried away to place the order, and I warred between feeling guilty about ordering breakfast for dinner and the happiness from indulging my sweet tooth. I pulled out my phone and settled back in the hidden-away booth, scrolling through courses at North Hollow U, and researching how they were received. The history department needed help, and a vacancy seemed to have been carved out for someone like me. On the plus side, they had a strong Civil War history program, their academic standards were solid, and it wasn’t one of those self-important private colleges like the one I’d attended before. Anyone who offered this post would do so on merit, without any backroom deals or family legacies. I had to cling to that. Right?
Icy droplets splattered my face as the slim shape of WesleyfreakingDarkwood slid into the booth opposite me, shaking off the cold. “Jeez, it’s freezing out there!” he announced, his cheeks pink from the wind. He started unwrapping his long, dark coat, unwinding his scarf, tugging off his beanie, all the while rambling. “You know it only takes onesnowflake to start an avalanche, Hunter. And did you know each flake has six points, never seven? Weird, right? Especially since I told you about my lucky number. Oh! And how about us talking about the snow angel today? Total coincidence, like the universe proving me right by giving us snow.”
I didn’t move, simply stared at him. Molly came back with water and two glasses, as if she’d sided with him in assuming he was okay in the seat opposite.
“Your usual, honey?” she asked Wesley, same as she had me.
“Please, and a slice of Kai Pie.”
She was all apologetic, “I’m sorry, the last piece was just taken by Hunter.”
Wesley gave a fake, over-the-top pout, lips pushed out and eyes wide, then brightened with a sudden grin. “Bring an extra fork, and we can share, right? Two friends, one slice of heaven.”
I was beyond apoplectic. Share? My single piece of Kai’s pie? The best pie I’d ever tasted. The very idea had me gripping my glass of iced water like a weapon, outrage and disbelief bubbling inside me. How the hell did he think that was acceptable?
“What… Why are you… When…”
Wesley settled back in his seat, grasping his hair in his hands and tying it back. “You want to start that again?” he said with his usual fucking annoying smile.
“This ismytable.” I finally managed and gestured around us. “There are plenty of empty tables.
“Yes, but you’d be lonely then,” he said.
“I was perfectly happy here on my?—”
“Pancake stack, bacon extra crispy, and I’ll leave the bottle of syrup,” Molly interrupted as she set plates down. She turned to Wesley with a smile. “Yours will be out soon, Wes, but while I’ve got you here—can you recommend some readers for my Amy’s girl?”
“Little Susie?” Wesley asked, already softening.
“Yeah, she’s just starting to sound out words, and I’d love reading to her.”
Wesley lit up as though he’d been waiting for the question all day. “Oh, absolutely—The Cat in the Hat,Hairy Maclary, all those sing-songy rhyming stories are brilliant. Kids love the rhythm. You want me to put some aside? I’ve even got a few in the second-hand pile.”
