“Well, this may not seem fitting considering it didn’t work out and all, but congratulations. That’s quite an internship toland.” He nods silently, his lips pursed as his tongue grazes his teeth. When he doesn’t break his silence, I continue. “I hear Stratford pays well for their programs. And almost always hire their interns before they finish it.”
“Yup,” he breathes, but he doesn’t add more.
I know this is my cue. I should open my books now and move on. Change the subject and get started on what we came here to do…but I just can’t help myself.
“What distracted you so bad that you gave all that up?”
His eyes remain on his cup, absently searching it for answers. Then he exhales before he finally says, “A girl.”
I swallow down the icy jealousy that licks my ego and remind myself it has no place being here. “A girl, huh?” is all I say.
He doesn’t respond—yet another billboard sign to shut the hell up and move on already. But like the Nosy Nelly I can’t stop myself from being today, I ask another prying question.
“Where’s the girl now?”
His stern gaze meets mine, and my heart skips a beat in my chest. “Like I said,” he says flatly. “Things didn’t work out.”
This time, I’m the one who nods silently.
“What about you?” He asks. “What’s your story?”
“Me?” I begin to sort through the filing cabinet in my mind—the one filled with the things I’m supposed to say, but I come up helplessly blank. I stare at him.
“Ah, I see how it is. Ask, but don’t tell.” He smirks, and my chest flutters the slightest bit at the sight of it.
“Yes. I mean, no,” I stumble, feeling warmth touch my cheeks. “Um—”
“I’m just kidding,” he chuckles, and I don’t miss the anxious wave in my belly. “Don’t get all nervous.”
“I’m notnervous.” Lie. I totally am, and I have no idea why.
I straighten in my seat, aiming to seem more confident than off-kilter like I strangely am. “I earned a scholarship to UT my junior year of high school. It’s supposed to cover four years of classes, books and all that, but I’m finishing in three, so it’s covered most of my other expenses, too. It’s worked out so far. I mean, I still work, but barely, which is good because I don’t really have the time with the extra classes.”
“At Café Baguette,” is his only response.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
Another flash of nervousness runs through me at the fact that he’s seen me before. And remembers.
“I’m a performing arts major,” I continue after clearing my throat. “I’m hoping to open a hybrid style dance studio or something. Maybe. I don't know. But, anyway, that’s how I ended up minoring in business.”
Jake cocks his head to the side. “You say it like it’s not possible.”
I shrug, trying my best to come off indifferent. “It’s more of a pipe dream than a set goal, really.”
“Why’s that?” he asks, eyes pinned on mine. Surprisingly, I find the truth creeping its way to my lips. Butunsurprisingly, it dies on my tongue. I’d never have the courage to tell him all my truths.
“This class is actually really important to me, and I’m a little intimidated by it, so I really appreciate the help,” I say instead. “Especially since you’ve taken it before.”
And then I realize how insensitive that sounds.
“I mean, sorry,” I say, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean like… I know you didn’t... Sorry.”
“It’s okay, I get what you mean. My loss is your gain,” he says halfheartedly.
My neck heats. I can physically feel the shade of pink my cheeks are turning. “No, that’s not—”
“Relax,” he chuckles again. “It’s not a problem.”
