Tiziano, engrossed by the constant beep of his phone and varicose veins, was gulping his second mochaccino and digging into his second cinnamon bun, his fingers covered in frosting.
Makena lifted her gaze to me, making a noise when she sucked up the last remains of her iced chai latte. I mulled over my leftover matcha, swirling the green concoction around.
She nodded, still avoiding my gaze. Her face still looked a little puffy.
Making my decision, I stood, looped my arm through hers, and pulled her up to the counter.
“Which cheesecake should I try today?”
I scanned the pastry shop window, various towers of cakes on display, tempting us poor defenseless souls with sugar and butter masked behind pretty swirls of frosting. Not that I needed help deciding. I was the kind of wolf person who would take forever mulling over the options only to end up ordering the same thing. Cookies and cream.
“Ivy, I?—”
“Can I have a slice of cookies and cream cheesecake with an iced matcha latte, please? Oat milk.”
The boy scribbled down the order on his pad. “Sure, Yvaine. Coming right away.” His eyes rose to meet mine. “How’s the Highlander doing this week? Ready for the big game?”
All the games were big, but I didn’t specify that. “He’s on the field. Practice is more important than his lectures.”
To tell the truth, my twin was always so focused right before a game that it almost scared me. Sometimes I wondered…how heavy must the pressure be? Representing our pack, meeting everyone’s expectations? It was a bulky backpack that he had to constantly carry on his overtrained shoulders. It reminded me of Atlas, from Greek mythology, the titan condemned to hold the celestial skies atop his shoulders for eternity.
Since last night, I seemed to have developed a new, compulsive tic. I peered at my phone again, the bold notification indicating zero messages. Mocking me.
“Sorry about last night,” my friend whispered from behind me.
“Makena Odhiambo, you don’t owe me any explanation.”
She tugged on the strings of her hoodie, a panda dozing off on the front of it. “It’s so embarrassing.”
I opened my arms wide for her. Makena, stiff as an ironing board, accepted my hug by just stepping into me.
“To give so much time to someone else! I can’t respect myself anymore, I just can’t.” Her arms remained two rods at her sides as I massaged her back.
“You are feeling. You are experiencing.”
Her chin dropped to my shoulder. “I don’t want people to see me crying.”
“Why not? Crying’s smart. Shows you’re strong. Brave. After a good cry, you always feel better.”
“I didn’t.”
“You cry when you let yourselffeel.Sometimes it’s okay to feel like poop, to accept defeat. To recognize that feeling—grief, frustration, rage—and sit with it. Let those emotions pass through you…” I trailed off. Her black curls tickled my nose, so I adjusted my face. “In the end, every emotion teaches something, even the crappy ones. And I don’t judge you or expect a speech, so I’m sorry if you wasted time preparing one.” By then, her arms were squeezing me tightly.
“It’s so hard, Ivy,” she said, her voice muffled. “I hate men.”
“Good thing you have friends. The best ones. We’re all in a relationship, too!” I always considered my friendships like full relationships. “Maybe focus more on yourself and your friends. Use less energy onhim.”
“I knew you were hanging out with the psychology people behind our backs!” she accused with a sniff, teasing me.
I huffed out a laugh. “I love you, and if you need me, you know where my room is.”
We freed each other, keeping our hands linked. A reminder we were there, always. She popped a quick kiss on my cheek and murmured a thank-you.
“One gluten-free carrot cake,” she then ordered, “with a vanilla iced chai latte.”
Her usuals.
Makena and Gaius were in awarlationship, and we had all learned to stay out of it. Were they mates? Second-chance mates, those lucky souls who had been granted a second mate after losing or rejecting their first? Theories swarmed abound. Plus, Makena had more walls than a castle. And that was okay! I liked to think about my own business and leave other people’s business to, well,other people.
