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I pulled out my phone while I waited and scrolled through the pictures I had saved. The only thing that gave me any sort of distraction this past weekend was looking at prom dresses. I mean, I wasn't going. Not now, anyway. I wouldn't have a date. My two best friends would be tonguing each other down all night. Not something I wanted to endure for some ‘high school memories.’ Still, looking for dresses and saving pictures pulled me out of my nightmarish life for a little while.

Gave me something else to focus on.

“No. No. Too short. Why did I like this one again? Nuh-uh. Too expensive. D

on’t make it in my size, I don’t think.”

I deleted dresses I didn’t like. Ones that were too sparkly after sleeping on them for a couple of nights. I eliminated them, one by one. Until I was left with dresses that were more simplistic. Elegant. Full-length dresses with soft, silken material. And definitely no fucking sparkles. Something green. Or blue. Possibly navy. Though not black.

A tapping on my shoulder ripped me from my trance.

“Can I help… you…?”

I turned around and gazed into Clint’s eyes. I looked up at him, my brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fell to my phone and I quickly closed out the pictures. Then I slipped my phone into my purse.

“He—hey, there. Hi. Hi, Clint.”

He grinned. “Hi, Rae.”

I cleared my throat. “How are you doing?”

He nodded. “Been better. Yourself?”

“I’m getting along.”

“Study session time, I take it?”

“Huh?”

He nodded toward the door. “At school. Study session time?”

I snickered. “Oh. Yes. It is. I need a pick-me-up.”

“Don’t blame you. Sleep’s hard to come by nowadays.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

The cashier sighed. “Can I get you anything?”

I whipped around and saw there was no one else standing in front of me. Just an impatient woman behind the cash register softly glaring at me. I scurried up to the front and placed my order. An iced caramel macchiato. With an extra shot.

Then Clint leaned over. “And I’ll have a large rosewater and caramel coffee. Put it on the same ticket.”

I looked over at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

But he didn’t answer me.

Instead, he simply handed the girl his card, paying for my drink without so much as a glance down at me. I didn’t know whether to be thankful or frustrated, irritated or flattered. Clint ushered me over to the side where we waited for our drinks. And I watched as the girl behind the cash register followed Clint with her eyes.

Making me very jealous.

“So, how’s school?”

His voice pulled me from my jealous trance. “You’d know if you were there.”

He shrugged. “Finding a place to live is a bit more important right now.”

“So your father’s really selling the house?”

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