I wished I could just drink the tea and enjoy it.
Next to me, Landon’s pen scratched against his notebook.
Mr. Edwards cleared his throat. “How about this third one?”
“Kind of nutty? Like almonds?”
“Better. And number four?”
I felt like I was back in Algebra II. And there was no Chip to help me study either.
I sniffed and sipped and thought.
“Fruity.”
“Grapefruit,” Landon added.
“Right. You’ve got to work on that palate, Darius.”
The pulsar spun faster.
And I had that ridiculous feeling again, stronger than ever.
Like I didn’t like working here anymore.
Like sooner or later, tea was just going to be another test for me to fail.
“All right. Better get cleaned up. Good work.”
“You mind taking care of it?” Landon asked. “I’ve gotta do some stocking.”
I cleared my throat. “Sure.”
I emptied the cups and put them in the dishwasher, wiped off the table, and told myself everything was okay.
Really.
I was going to go home after work, but Landon invited me over.
Landon almost never invited me over. For some reason, we usually hung out at my house.
So when he asked me to come over, I knew I had to say yes.
Landon and his dad lived in a condo downtown, just a couple streetcar stops away from Rose City. It was in a remodeled art-deco office building, on the eighth floor. Landon punched in the code to the front door and led me up in the elevator. He grabbed a paper notice wedged into the door frame and let us in.
Every time I saw Landon’s home, I was kind of amazed. Their living room had these big windows that looked out over downtown—you could even see Rose City Teas, if you were tallenough, like me—and everything was white and chrome and sleek.
Landon led me to the angular black couch. “You want anything?”
“I’m good.”
He sat down and rested his head against my shoulder.
“You okay? You were awfully quiet today.”
“I don’t know. I just...” I played with the hem of my shirt. “I don’t know.”
Landon snaked his arm behind me to hold my waist. “Talk to me.”
