Mateo: I’m not complaining, I’m DYING. Also, Jer better not be late again.
It would take me twenty minutes to get to the diner, and I looked like I’d just crawled out of a swamp.
Me: On my way. Give me five.
Sisi: You better not show up gross.
Mateo: Define gross. Normal human gross or full Jeremiah post-workout, nuclear-odor-bomb gross?
Me: You two are funny. See you soon.
I rolled my eyes and shoved my phone in my pocket, immediately regretting the now-sweat-coated screen.
Nearly a half hour later, I spotted them in our usual back booth, but something was off. Mateo was working through pancakes as usual, but Sisi sat across from him stirring her coffee without actually drinking it while staring blankly out the window.
“Jesus, Jer, you take slimy to a whole new level,” she said as I approached the table, but her heart wasn’t in her usual teasing. “You look like you just wrestled a bear.”
I studied her face. Sisi was never this quiet. Hell, she was never quiet at all.
“You okay? Do you need a hug?”
She recoiled like I’d offered her a live snake. “Ew, no. You’re disgusting.”
Before I could even look hurt, Mateo hopped up and threw his arms wide. “I’ll take it! Jeremiah hugs are the best.”
“Right?” I beamed and wrapped him in a quick, tight hug that probably squeezed half the air out of his lungs. Mateo made an exaggerated “oof” sound but was grinning when I let him go.
“There’s our hugger,” Sisi said, rolling her eyes but smiling for the first time since I’d sat down. “Big, scary delivery man with surprise cuddles.”
“It’s not scary if you warn people first,” I protested, running a hand through my damp hair. “And cuddles are different from hugs. They make me tingly inside.”
“Oh God,” Sisi groaned.
“It’s terrifying,” Mateo said cheerfully. “Like being attacked by a very affectionate bear.”
I glanced down at what remained of Mateo’s pancakes. “A six-stack of processed carbs? Really, dude?”
“Pancakes are fuel,” Mateo protested.
Our regular waitress, Dolores, appeared with coffee. “The usual, hon? Love the shoulders. You should go strapless more often.”
Sisi snickered from behind her mug. Mateo turned away.
“Please,” I said, holding out my cup.
She nodded and disappeared, leaving me with my two best friends. Sisi perked up a little, but there was still something calculating in her expression that made me nervous.
“So,” she said, her voice taking on that dangerous tone I knew meant trouble. “How was your week? Any interesting deliveries?”
Something in the way she emphasized the word “deliveries” made me suspicious. “Just the usual. Packages, wrong addresses, the occasional dog attack. Cuddles is evil.”
Mateo laughed again and shook his head. They’d both heard stories about my nemesis.
“Nothing else? No . . .literaryencounters?” Sisi persisted.
“Why are you being weird?” I asked.
“I’m not being weird. You’re being weird,” the three-year-old girl seated across from me said.
