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It's a strange thought, high school Iris and high school Walker meeting. I wouldn't have paid him any attention back then. Even if he was ink free. I didn't go through a bad boy phase. I always liked nice guys. Clean-cut, Captain America types.
On the surface, we'd be a classic good girl bad boy pairing.
But he's a responsible business owner.
And I…
Well, I'm not that old Iris anymore.
The last customer finishes his order and moves aside. I step forward. Turn my back on my true love coffee to order my old favorite. Grapefruit green tea. Half sweet.
Walker orders a lemon black tea. With only twenty-five percent sweetness.
That explains a lot—there's no way he mainlines sugar looking the way he does.
Though twenty-five percent of the sugar in a bubble tea is still a fuckton of sugar.
He leads me to a metal table outside.
I sit in the clear plastic chair. It's that same chair in every single trendy coffee or tea shop. Only it's clear instead of white.
He leans in close. His eyes find mine. They promise to blow my mind.
And to make my stomach flutter.
And to make me feel safe and warm and—
"Fuck." Walker leans back. Pulls his cell from his jeans. "I have to take this."
I shake my head. "No game." But my voice doesn't quite come across as teasing. Frustration is spreading over his expression.
"I know." His voice doesn't hit teasing either.
I motion to the counter. "I'll get the drinks."
He nods. Moves around the corner.
This particular strip mall—the micro-neighborhood Little Osaka is basically three strip malls and a short row of stores—is dead quiet. There are a bunch of empty offices and the restaurant taking up most of the space is an all the drama happens inside place.
I move into the store. The conversations are a quiet buzz. Two teenagers grab beige drinks from the counter. Milk teas. A guy grabs a light pink drink. Something strawberry, I guess.
The barista, tearista, bobarista? sets two massive teas at the counter. He calls my name.
I grab the drinks and straws. Go back to the table. Stab the plastic covering of my beverage with a giant straw and take a long sip.
It brings me back immediately. The way Lily smiled as she gushed over my homecoming dress. The frown when she didn't get into NYU. Her consoling me when I tried to dye my hair blond and ended up with bright orange locks.
She was my best friend all through college. And through the first year or so of everything. Until she realized how bad it was.
She gave me a choice. She confronted me. But I refused to get help. To choose her.
"Hey." Walker slides into his seat. He forces his lips into a smile, but frustration is still written all over his face.
"Everything okay?"
"Okay enough."
I push his drink toward him. "You were right. This place is good."
