Page 11 of Apparently, I’m Torture

Mia and Stacey stood to the side, holding their arms and knees.

And in front of me, leaning down in a pair of black trousers, a matching blazer and a white button-down, was Shawn Jackson. Dark-eyed, ticked-off, Shawn Jackson. Even while angry, he was just as perfect to look at as ever, and I was irrationally annoyed at him for that.

My nerves seized up, tightening as I registered the smell of him. A fusion of caffeine, wood and musk invaded me, and before I knew it, his hand was wrapped around mine.

Five Years Ago

Chapter 4

Shawn

Monday afternoon

Tristy’s Coffee Shop

Downtown Manhattan, NYC

Tristy’s warm, wooden walls were laced with artwork, lined with the faces of people I counted as family. Ancient Greek replica earthenware and Lebanese tapestries lined every available surface, and the overhead yellow lighting bathed everything in a warm glow.

When the coffee shop got to this hour in the afternoon, it was like being wrapped in a blanket on a rainy day. The pat, pat, pat of it against the roof meshed with the feeling of prickled skin, and a shiver would lace down your spine as warmth draped itself over you. That’s what Tristy’s felt like.

The smell of roasted coffee and freshly baked pastries hung in the air, a permanent cozy fixture. This place, and the people here, were a part of me. This was home.

But it didn’t exactly feel like home right now.

I towered over Lilly, my jaw clenching, my dark eyes studying the ground, muscles tensing as she gripped a pastry and ripped it to shreds on her plate.

“You dumped Stacey over a text message, Shawn. You have to know that’s not okay.”

I ran a hand over my face before looking up at the ceiling. “How could I have dumped her if we never went out?”

“You could’ve at least called her.”

“Why? What would be the point? I don’t know the girl.”

She shifted on the couch and glared at me, balancing the plate on her lap. “It’s basic courtesy 101. It’s the least you could do.”

“No. The least I could do is send a text. Which I did. Now the least you can do is stay out of my business.”

She yelled, “You are my business, you big doof,” as I turned and left the backroom, leaving her to stare at her torn pieces of pastry.

I braced my hands against the wooden countertop as Tristan stood next to me and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah… just Lilly being Lilly.”

I was wound too tight, and despite trying to loosen up under his grip, Tristan could tell I was agitated. He gave me a quirk of his lips, but didn’t say anything.

“We’ve got graduation coming up, and she won’t…”

“Relax?” he finished, his smile spreading to a full grin.

“Yeah. I just wish she’d lay off.”

He tilted his chin, his intense eyes boring into me. He was looking for more, trying to figure out why my argument with Lilly bothered me as much as it did.

“You’re sure that’s what you’re upset about?”

I shifted and leaned my hip on the counter. “I don’t know anymore. All I know is I can’t handle this.”