What the hell was going on? Why would Stella be here so early? Following Sammy as she ran ahead, he practically stumbled into the kitchen where he found Stella standing by the stove and wishing him a cheery good morning.
She was wearing an apron Rico had seen hanging in the pantry. Under it, she had on the same clothes she wore last night at the barbeque.
The smell of bacon frying filled the kitchen. Instead of stirring his appetite, it made Rico sick. He had to get out of there.
"I forgot something," he said to Sammy and left the way he came, heading for the car, planning to drive away.
He didn't stop until he felt Mitch grab his arm. "You didn't hear me?" Mitch said while Rico only stared at him. No, he hadn't heard him. He didn't want to hear anything he had to say.
Now he wrenched his arm free of Mitch's grip. "What do you want?"
"Where are you going?"
"Leaving," Rico said curtly.
"Wait two minutes. Is this because of Stella?" Mitch had the nerve to ask.
"Fuck you, Mitch. Go to hell!" Rico snapped at him. He wanted to scream the words, but he couldn't catch his breath.
Mitch still told him, "Keep it down. She had a fight with Lara, so she went for a walk to cool off and got caught in the rain. She ended up here all wet, and..."
Rico cut him off. "Oh my God!" he didn't want to hear any more.
"What? Was I supposed to kick her out into the downpour?" Mitch asked.
"Yes," Rico said unreasonably. "Lara could have come to pick up her skanky ass."
"I already told you they had a fight. I couldn't drive her because Sammy was asleep. And why the hell am I explaining myself to you?" Mitch said getting almost as mad as Rico.
"Right. It's none of my business what you do. Now I'm getting out of here so I'm not cockblocking you. Do whatever the fuck you want!" With that Rico walked away and didn't look back.
Rico didn't know how he got through the rest of his day. It was all a big, painful blur with his chest hurting constantly, not being able to take one easy breath. He put in a shift at the café, but he wasn't sure if he did any kind of decent work.
Afterward, his night was sleepless and he got up feeling heavy, like his body didn't want to move. Next day, he went in for his breakfast shift at the café and barely managed to mumble good morning to people who greeted him.
When his grandmother came in, she told him, "Work in the back, sweetheart. You're scaring the customers." She said it kindly and patted his shoulder, but Rico still felt semi-useless. And if she decided to send him to the Dunbar house, he wasn't sure what he was going to say.
He didn't want to set eyes on Mitch, but he did commit to helping out over there. That was something he was doing for his grandmother, and he had already skipped out on it yesterday.
For now he just had to focus on not screwing up right here at the café. At least working in the back was easier for him. He didn't have to force a smile for the sake of the customers.
On his break, he decided to go sit on one of the crates behind the café. Stepping outside, he saw that Sam and Wyatt were already there.
Rico covered his eyes and tried to retreat. "I didn't see anything."
"That's because we weren't doing anything," Sam told him. He was such a good boy.
"We were, but we're done," Wyatt said. He was not a good boy.
"Don't make it sound like that," Sam complained.
"Right. I'm never done with you," Wyatt said and moved as if to nibble on his ear. Sam dodged him though.
"Save it for your honeymoon," Rico told them. Seeing how happy they were together made him feel like crying. They deserved to be happy. He was just a terrible person.
"What's with you?" Wyatt asked. Rico thought he was asking about his gloomy mood, but Wyatt was questioning him about his facial hair. "Are you growing a beard too?"
"I just haven't shaved," Rico said, but Wyatt just kept on teasing him.
