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“Just give me a minute.” He reaches out and touches my arm before he turns and disappears down the hallway leaving me to smile and pump my fist in victory.
Take that, nerves!
He returns a minute later, and we head outside where we take the sidewalk into town. We make small talk the entire way, chatting about school and our favorite summer activities until we come across the coffee shop just off campus. Though it’s small, the warm interior is bustling with patrons.
“Have you been here yet?” he asks as we get in line.
Warm lighting spills over the cozy interior, glinting off the glass display of pastries while an espresso machine whirrs in the background.
“Not yet. I’ve been wanting to, but it just seems easier to go to the cafeteria during the week.” I shrug, but truthfully, Charlotte and Samantha hate coffee, so I haven’t really had anyone else to join me. As I stand in line, I realize I shouldn’t have let that stop me. I should’ve come on my own.
“Do you like lattes? Or do you just get regular coffee or tea?” he asks.
“Ilovea good latte.”
“Well, I’m probably going to ruin you for life then, because once you try their Snickers latte, you’ll never want anything else.”
I arch a brow. “Hot or frozen?”
“Either way. Doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, then.” I grin, and Stanley glances at my mouth, matching my smile.
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
“Nope. Tell me. Come out with it.”
“It’s just . . . this is nice, probably way more in my element than Bradd’s was, if I’m being honest.”
“Yeah? Not a fan of clubs?” he asks.
I shake my head, but he doesn’t say anything in response and as we wait our turn, I start to wonder if I’m completely lame. Maybe he thinks I’m boring.
When it’s our turn, we both order frozen Snickers lattes, but when he digs out his wallet from his pocket and starts to retrieve his credit card, I push his hand away. “No. It’s my treat, remember?”
He hesitates. “Really? Are you sure?” he asks, arching a brow.
“Positive.” I hand the barista the cash and turn to him. “I said I wanted to make last night up to you.”
“Okay.” He shoves his wallet back in his pocket, and grabs the first drink when the barista slides it across the counter, then takes a long pull on the straw and moans. “I’m telling you . . .” he says with a smile as I wait for them to finish the second drink.
Once I have mine in hand, we find a small table in the back and take a seat. “So, other than the conversations we’ve had outside of class, I don’t know a lot about you. Tell me about yourself.”
I fill him in some more about Teagan and my family, along with what it was like to grow up in Riverside, but I can’t help but notice the glazed over look in his eyes and the way he’s nodding his head like he’s bored with the conversation.
“I would hate growing up in a small town.” He pulls a face. “Everyone knowing everyone’s business.”
I frown, thinking about one of our previous conversations last week before class and how I thought we some things in common, one of which was growing up in a small community. “I thought you said you were from a small town, too?”
“Did I?” He scratches his head. “Huh. Mainstream suburbia is probably more accurate.”
I shift in my seat as I contemplate this, then chalk it up to a misunderstanding. People have different definitions of small towns.
“Well, Riverside wasn’t actually that bad,” I say, feeling defensive. Which is ridiculous. Who cares if he thinks he’d dislike living in a small town? “People know you, yeah, but the gossip mill wasn’t too bad. Instead, whenever someone’s in trouble, everyone sort of bands together to help you out. People care, which is kind of nice.”
The truth is, despite what happened in high school, I love Riverside and I’ll probably return there once I graduate, assuming I can find a job. I might have one dark memory there, but it’s not enough to tarnish the love I feel for my hometown or my desire to stay close to family.
