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“I thought you said it was your cheat day,” Hannah laughs.

“Cheat day?” Norah asks, looking at my food like it repulses her. “Oh my gosh, have you become a health nut?”

“Oh, you have no idea. It’s so bad. He lives on lean proteins and bland vegetables. It’s a sad existence for my dear brother,” Hannah says as if I’m not sitting right beside her. She pats my hand condescendingly, and I snatch it off the table and fold my arms across my chest. Norah’s eyes get all squinty like she’s considering something, and I’d give anything to know what’s going on in her head. Not because I’d find it fascinating. I just want to be ten steps ahead of her so I can foil all her evil schemes.

“Okay, well, this baby just kicked my bladder, so it’s potty time for me,” Hannah says. She gets up to go to the bathroom, leaving me alone with the she-devil. I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table, and Norah matches my stance. We look like we’re having a staring contest for a moment, until she opens her mouth to speak. Before she can say anything, I cut her off with a question of my own.

“What are your intentions with my sister?” I ask.

“Whoa, I’m not trying to date her. She’s married, for crying out loud,” Norah says. Gosh, she’s a smart alec. If she were anyone else, I’d laugh at that, but I can’t give her the satisfaction of knowing her joke was funny.

“You know what I mean.”

“Umm, no. I don’t,” she says. She folds her hands on the table and raises an eyebrow, daring me to fling accusations at her.

“Why are you hanging out with my sister?” I ask.

“Because I thought she was nice, and I could use a friend…” She bunches her eyebrows and quirks her mouth to the side. She’s looking at me like I’m crazy, but I know there’s more to it than she’s letting on. She grew up in this town. She’s bound to have plenty of friends here. Most of our high school graduating class is still living here. Why doesn’t she go make friends with them again?

“I’m not buying it,” I say.

“What is your problem? I’ve tried to be nice to you, but you—”

“What’s going on?” Hannah asks, hovering above our heads. Norah and I both sit up straight and look up at her. Hannah looks back and forth between us with questions written all over her face.

“Oh, nothing. Just talking about old times,” Norah says with a nervous laugh that doesn’t sound at all believable. Hannah looks doubtful. I take a bite of my sandwich to keep from having to say anything. It’s about as good as turkey sausage could be—so not very good at all.

“It was great chatting with you, Norah, but I have to get to the bookshop. It gets pretty busy on Saturday afternoons, and Seth gets overwhelmed if I leave him alone for too long,” Hannah says.

The two of them say their goodbyes and talk about making plans to get together again. I grit my teeth, listening to them. I was hoping this would be a one-time thing. Hannah bends down and plants an obnoxiously loud kiss on my cheek before leaving me alone at the table with Norah. I wipe it off on my shoulder.

Norah and I glare at each other, both taking sips of our coffee. Mine is on the verge of being cold, so I know hers must be disgustingly cold at this point. I take another sip just to force her to drink her cold sludge. She grimaces for just a moment as she places her cup back onto the table, and I get a small sense of satisfaction.

I stare into her dark-brown eyes, determined to wait her out here. I refuse to be the first to leave. I can’t have her thinking she has unsettled me enough to win whatever battle this is—ridiculous as it may be. She doesn’t blink as she glares at me, so I decide not to blink either. Our eyes are locked for a solid twenty seconds before I start to think my eyes might dry out and shrivel up. And she doesn’t look like she’s struggling at all. She’s calmly drumming her fingernails on her coffee cup while she stares into my soul. I would say that I’m staring right back at her blackened soul, but I’m not. I’m too busy focusing on holding my eyelids up. I’m considering going up to the counter to ask for some toothpicks to pry them open like the cartoons.

Another thirty seconds and my eyes are drier than the Sahara Desert. I can’t take it anymore. I blink, and the sweet relief is short-lived. She giggles quietly to herself and sits back in her chair, resting her free arm on the back of the chair beside her. I grit my teeth, holding in all the things I want to say to her. She would undoubtedly fire back at me, and our arguments have a history of ending in shouted insults. I don’t want to start a ruckus in the middle of town.

I watch as she checks her watch and then crosses her arms across her chest. Her coffee is gone now, so she has no reason to still be sitting here with me. She looks at her phone and purses her lips. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Her eyes narrow on me before she says, “Nope.” Liar! Her phone is lighting up with texts at this very moment. Her eyes shift to her phone sitting on the table, but she tightens her arms across her chest and looks out the window to her right. The phone buzzes again. She groans and picks up the phone to look at the messages. She picks up her coffee cup and then slams it back down onto the table when she remembers that it’s empty. I watch silently and sip on my lukewarm coffee as she types out a message, muttering to herself the whole time. Something about impatience and clinginess.

My cup is about an inch from my mouth when a sudden banging on the window beside our table startles me. I spill half my coffee all over my chest. I guess it’s a good thing it wasn’t hot anymore. I look to my left and see two women who look too much like Norah for my liking. Her younger sisters are pressed up against the window, trying to get Norah’s attention. I’ve seen them around town together a lot, but I don’t remember either of their names.

The younger one bites her lips in between her teeth and widens her eyes as she looks between the two of us, and the older one raises her eyebrows. There’s some sort of silent communication going on that I don’t understand. Norah tries to shoo them away, but they beckon for her to join them. She leans forward and rests her forehead on the palms of her hands.

I cough to cover up a laugh, and she peers up at me. She opens her mouth to say something that’s sure to be snarky, but her phone starts ringing. It’s not hard to figure out it’s the younger sister outside the window with her phone to her ear.

“Well, this was…exhilarating, but it seems my presence is required elsewhere. See ya, Monday, Colbster,” Norah says as she stands up and pushes her chair up to the table.

“Woman, I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” I say. She just giggles yet again, flips her hair back, and slings her purse onto her shoulder. She walks out the door, and her sisters rush over to her. The younger one grasps Norah’s arms, and I know that my presence is the cause of all her excitement. I chug the rest of my coffee and head out of the coffee shop. I stop outside the door and look down the street to see the three of them walking down the sidewalk, talking excitedly together. Well, Norah doesn’t look excited. She looks like she’d rather bury her head in a hole than have whatever conversation her sisters are instigating.

I watch until they disappear inside an antique store, and I climb into my truck to head home and grade all the tests my students took yesterday. I wish I had anything else to do with my Saturday, but such is the life of a teacher.

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