His gaze definitely held a pinch of amusement. “What can I say? I grew up in the South. It’s deeply ingrained in us not to let a girl make a fool of herself for this long. My grandmother would find a way out of her grave if I left without making sure you could walk.”
“Oh.” I blinked, wondering if I should be insulted. “Well, isn’t that… sweet.”
I spun around to face the coffee cart located a few yards away, happy to see there wasn’t a line. I didn’t want to risk Noah bailing if we had to wait in line together. I also didn’t trust my mouth to stay quiet. I subtly fanned my cheeks before marching toward the cart on a mission and sparing a quick glance over my shoulder to verify Noah was following at a slower pace.
At least he hadn’t taken off running.
“Hi, Scott.” I offered a small wave to the coffee attendant. The coffee cart was my favorite place on campus. It was big enough to fit two people, with a green-and-white striped awning held up by gold poles, and a display case of pastries that made my mouth water.
“Hey, Emma.” Scott grinned from behind the register as he plucked a new cup off the stack. Scott Holliday still lived in a world where guys used globs of hair gel, and his brown hair formed something close to a fauxhawk. I thought it did a great job of drawing attention to his big brown eyes—the same rich color as the delicious coffee he served. “One caramel macchiato with extra caramel syrup and a scoop of sugar, right? Or is it a two-scoop day?”
I winced as he recited my usual, wondering what straight-black Noah thought of my completely-under-control addiction. “Um, no, actually. Just a black coffee for me today. No sugar or anything. Not sure if there’s a special name for it?”
The coffee boy paused with a frown. “You just want a regular coffee?”
“Yep.” I nodded and pulled a few crumpled bills loose.
“No sugar?”
“None,” I said with a shake of my head. “Not even a little bit.”
“But, Emma, are you sure…?”
“She’s sure,” Noah said firmly from behind me, and I glanced up from the wad of dollar bills to see Scott sizing him up. I found that cute, because Scott was closer to my height while Noah was well over a head taller than both of us.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I winked at Scott to show him there was no harm meant as I smoothed down my traitorous skirt again.
“One regular coffee, coming right up,” Scott said with no small amount of confusion before pulling on the coffee lever. It took no time at all to fill the cup, and he handed me back much more change than I’d expected. Maybe if I made the switch to black coffee, I’d be carrying twenties instead of ones.
“Here you go.” I handed Noah the coffee with a smile before straightening the straps of my sagging backpack. I shifted my weight and glanced at the ground. “One fresh black coffee. Just a small token of my apology for ruining such a beautiful writing instrument. I’ll pay for it, I swear. But the coffee helps, right? Actually, you know, they usually have these nifty little cup sleeves. Not just for looks, but the coffee isreallyhot when you first get it. I probably shouldn’t have just handed it to you like that. Your hand must be on fire. Hold on—hey, Scott, got any sleeves?”
I wanted to slap a hand over my mouth to stop the incessant babbling—and from Scott’s raised brow, it looked like he agreed—but Noah’s expressionless face when I’d handed him the cup wasn’t offering me anything, and I just couldn’t seem to stop.
“Thanks.” I huffed a breath as Scott handed over a cup sleeve. I fiddled with the paperboard and focused on him before I had to face a stoic Noah again. Laughing Hello Kittys swam across my vision, and I found it easier to face the customer-friendly coffee boy. “You know, fun fact about these little guys. Coffee sleeves were invented in the early nineties because a coffee spill burned a man’s fingers—”
“Uh, Emma?” Scott nodded at something behind me. “You know he left, right?”
I spun around in time to see the back of a blazer as Noah wound his way through the sea of casually-dressed-at-best students before disappearing around the corner.
Okay, then.
I turned back around with a sigh and offered Scott the wad of bills. “What was that you were saying about a two-scoop day?”
CHAPTER4
A Debt
Dear Diary,
I met a cute boy today.
Then I promptly ruined any chance I had by mutilating his pen beyond recognition. Oh, and I showed him my underwear. On accident, but still.
Kill me now.
You can probably guess which pair it was, too, because my mortification wouldn’t be complete without everyone at Westcroft knowing I wear fictional cats with pink bows on my backside.
In other news, Scott gave me an extra drizzle of caramel in my coffee today. If my guardian angel ever took human form, he’d be Scott Holliday. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure my GA turned in his two-weeks’ notice a long time ago.
