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Is this what Grandpa wanted for me? Am I stumbling upon the happiness that he spoke of on his death bed?
Miranda jabs me hard in the arm with her elbow. “See ya later,” she says to Tyler as she climbs back on her stool. I think she’s talking to me first, but then she widens her eyes at me and motions behind me. I catch on in time to see Tyler climb off his barstool and chug the last bit of his coffee. His eyes meet mine and he does this one eyebrow lift and smile combination before walking away. My heart pounds in my chest.
“Rude!” Miranda hisses in my ear.
“What?” I ask, confused and suddenly ravenous. I dig into my French toast.
“You didn’t even say bye. You just sat there like a total bitch.”
“I did? Ugh. I’m an idiot.” Note to self: stop daydreaming about life when talking to a hot guy.
Miranda’s eyes pop out of her skull. Her fork drops to her plate with a loud clang. “Oh my god, you like him.”
“What? No I don’t.”
“You like him,” she squeals in my ear. I’m so thankful the seats around us are empty because this girl doesn’t know how to be quiet.
“I don’t even know him. I can’t like someone I don’t know.” She gives me this look, but I keep talking. “I mean, yeah he’s attractive, but so what? I’m done caring about men. Plus, we’re leaving soon and will never see him again.”
“You’re rambling.?
?? She crosses her arms. “Rambling means you like him.” Her stern face looks so much like her mother’s it makes me cringe. I know she’s just screwing with me but I feel my cheeks blush anyway.
I prop my chin on my hands and lean over to her. “Fine, okay. I like him. Are you happy?”
She beams. “Yes I’m happy. Now we can stay here.”
“We are not staying here.”
“But I think we should.”
I swivel around to where my knees are touching hers. It’s hard to glare at her with that big blue-black nose of hers, but I do it to the best of my ability. “Oh yeah? Give me one good reason.”
She rolls her eyes in the perfect portrayal of the teenager she is. “You like him.”
“That’s not a good reason.”
“Fine. I’ll give you one good—real—reason. And we’re staying.”
I jab my fork into a stack of French toast and let it sit vertical. “You don’t make the rules.”
“Pinky promise.” She holds out her pinky and tries to scoop up my unexpecting pinky but I yank it away just in time. “I’m not pinky promising anything. We hate this place, we’re not staying.”
“I don’t hate it. I want to stay.”
I let out a long sigh. “Have fun living alone. Tyler isn’t a good enough reason for me to stay. I’m done with dating.”
“It’s not about Tyler.” Her eyebrows wriggle and it’s obvious she wants me to ask her for more details. Whatever she wants to say is just bursting out of her seams.
“What is it about?” I ask.
She shakes her head and holds up her pinky finger.
“Fine, I’ll pinky promise.” I hook my pinky around hers. “But—you have to give me one, absolutely amazing, totally perfect reason and I promise to consider staying here…temporarily.”
She frowns. “That’s the most half-assed promise ever, but I’ll take it.”
“One reason,” I say.
