Because I have no self-control, I say, “Are you trying to hint something, Wren?”
“No,” she snaps, blushing. “All I’m saying is, it’s empty in here so you don’t need to do that. Rule number three.”
Fucking rule number three.
*
When Wren finally finishes her essay, she picks up all of her shit and we walk across to Florentino’s. It’s busy here, as always. This shop is rivalling Starbucks with the special menu the school has created. If there is one good thing about NU besides hockey, it’s this cafe. We walk up to the counter, my arm around her shoulder, Wren’s books clutched to her test, and I’m sure we look like every cliched couple in a teen drama.
“What’s your usual order?” I ask when we join the line. She tilts her head to the side, thinking for a second.
“It depends what the special is. Ken is always whipping something up in there,” she says, nodding to her best friend who is working frantically behind the counter. “Her mango smoothies are fantastic.”
“In this climate? It’s fucking freezing outside and you want a mango smoothie?” I ask, clearly shocked by her poor choice of drink.
“Okay, fine. What would you suggest?”
“Deluxe hot chocolate, obviously,” I say flippantly. “It’s fucking expensive here but it’s good.”
“That’s not the most expensive thing on the menu,” she whispers, shifting from one foot to the other as we move further down the line.
“Really? What is?”
“The caramel crunch cappuccino,” she concedes, avoiding eye contact with me.
“Let me guess. That’s your usual order,” I say, laughing. She nods.
“Even with Kennedy’s discount, it’s still ridiculous,” Wren replies. “It is the best drink though.”
“I’m a nineteen year old student. What makes you think I can afford a seven dollar coffee?” I spit out and she laughs, shrugging. “You’re lucky, darling. You are the only exception.”
“Oh my God, you’re quoting Paramore to me right now,” she gasps. She fans herself dramatically. “I think I’m falling for you, Miles.”
I laugh with her and nudge her in the shoulder to move forward since we’re next in the line. When Kennedy sees us she smiles wide, clearly our biggest fan. She’s dressed in her pink Florentino's uniform and her apron that is covered in small pins, showing off all the groups she supports.
“There is my favourite couple,” she exclaims. “What can I get for you?”
“The most expensive drink you have,” Wren chimes in, smiling at me. I’m going to be fourteen dollars more broke than I was this morning but if it makes her smile like that, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
“Coming right up,” Ken says, rushing off to serve the next person after I pay.
We walk out of Florentino’s sipping our drinks walking towards Radnor Hall where Wren’s classes take place. I’m holding both of our drinks in my hand while Wren hooks one arm into mine, holding her books with the other. It would probably be super cringe if I was feeding Wren her drink if it was anyone but her. I swear every time we walk past someone, they do a double take. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this. The stares. The whispers. The looks.
We’ve kept mostly quiet as we drink our cappuccinos. I can’t lie. This drink is amazing and unfortunately worth the money.
“Wren! Oh my god. I was just looking for you,” a girl with dark brown hair rushes towards us when we’re walking past the library. The girl I’ve never seen before in my life hooks Wren’s arm into hers, taking her away from me.
“You were?” Wren asks, looking back to me as her friend walks them in front of me.
“Yes! I was trying to find you to talk about the essay we had to do for Atonement,” she explains. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”
Wren turns around, looking at me sceptically, her eyes suddenly wide and unsure. “This is Miles Davis. I’m sure you know him. Miles, this is Katie Buxbaum from my creative writing class.”
“So you guys really are dating?” Katie asks, looking between the both of us. We nod. Her eyes narrow for a second before she nods again, slowly. “Cool. So will you guys come to my party tonight, then? It’s a lowkey thing but most people from class are going.”
I’m about to respond but Wren awkwardly unlink her arms with Katie’s and picks up her drink from my hand and throws it into the trash.She slips her fingers into mine instead, signalling to me that she doesn’t want to talk to her.
“Thanks for the offer but we’re busy tonight. We’re like newly weds. Just can’t be apart from each other,” Wren says, her voice an octave higher than usual as she snuggles into my side. “I’ll see you in class.” Wren practically runs down the corridor, pulling me along with her, turning the sharp corner until we’re away from her and panting.
