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“I’m taking a class at MIT. Probably going to go there.” He sniffs after his brag, which is another annoying habit he learned from his father.
“Ah,” I nod, not really wanting to open up his usual who-is-better conversation.
“Are you doing that famous Welles internship?” He’s always mocked Welles. Probably because for whatever reason, he couldn’t get in. His grades are fine, but he always seemed to blow the interview.
“I am, yeah. Mayor’s office,” I say, bracing myself for his one-up card.
“Cool, yeah. I had a meeting with her for one of our MIT projects. She made a proclamation for our class because our professor invented this new telescope piece. It’s a pretty big deal.” His eyes keep darting to my right, to Cameron, so much so I finally break down and introduce them.
“That’s amazing,” I say, my tone the same one used to cheer on a toddler who just stacked a few blocks. “Cole, this is Cameron. We go to Welles together. Cameron, I’ve known Cole for . . . ooof.” I shake my head to indicate years.
“She was my first kiss. I mean, we were five, but it still counts, right? Nice to meet you.” Cole jets out his palm and Cameron’s lip ticks up as he briefly pauses before shaking it. His wrist flexes, and I’m pretty sure he’s squeezing extra hard.
“Nice to meet you. She was my last kiss, so I guess we have something in common. Excuse me, I’m up,” Cameron says with a tight-lipped smile and a nod toward the now open register. My body feels numb as he leaves me there with douchebag Cole and a very well-played one-upper.
“You dating that guy?” Cole gestures toward Cameron, who is busy rattling off his own set of drink orders. His head is cocked just enough that I’m pretty sure he’s keeping one ear invested in our conversation.
“Oh, dating? Uhm . . .” The conundrum is the link Cole has directly to my father’s ear doesn’t include too many telephones. It’s basically just one—his dad. And if he’s feeling bold, he’ll call my dad directly. I’d love to mess with him more, but it’s better I don’t.
“He was kidding,” I say in a hushed tone, hoping it escapes Cameron’s ears.
“Yeah, I figured,” Cole boasts.
Now my turn to order, I step up to the counter, no longer prepared as I had planned to be during my walk to the cafe. My attention is divided just as Cameron’s was, my ear eavesdropping on the exchange between Cole and him. I find myself silently rooting for Cameron to bury his ego hard.
“Tell me, Cam. Can I call you Cam?”
“No.” I hold in my laugh at Cameron’s fast rebuttal.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Cam. I’m curious is all. What’s it like being aWelles boy?Are you one of those legacy students? Did your old man go to Welles and that’s how you got in? I ask because I know a lot of people our age in this city—the ones who are going to be important someday. What’s weird, though, is I don’t know you. And there are two kinds of people at Welles—important ones and legacies mooching off of daddy’s foot in the door.”
My mistakes are pissing the barista off, but I can’t answer her questions and listen to the drama behind me at the same time. She’s already tossed two cups in the trash because I made her write, rewrite and scribble orders on them too many times.
“Just give me your sticky note,” she finally insists, holding out her open palm.
“Oh, that’s smart!” I hand it over happily, which I don’t think was the reaction she wanted but I’m too busy making sure Cameron doesn’t throw Cole through the café window.
“I guess I’m not the kind of guy who hangs out at boring parties. Maybe that’s why our paths haven’t crossed,” Cameron says, unwrapping a stick of gum he pulled from his jacket pocket and placing it on his tongue with extra flare before biting down and grinning at Cole.
I scan my credit card and take my receipt, rolling it up and tucking it in my purse while I join Cameron and Cole by the display of fancy teas and gift tumblers.
“More like you’ve never been invited to one,” Cole says in his on-brand quiet but snarky tone, an insult he lobs so quietly Cameron may have missed it.
“Brooklyn, always nice running into you. Say hello to your dad for me,” Cole says, stepping across Cameron on purpose so he can force another unwelcome hug on me. I pat his shoulder with an open palm the way a nervous child might pet the top of a turtle. I glance to Cameron and catch his jaw twitch twice. He definitely heard Cole’s last shitty comment.
“Real classy company you keep,” Cameron says as soon as Cole is out of earshot.
“He’s an asshole, and I wouldn’t classify him as company. He’s . . . a few degrees of separation,” I defend. The way Cameron glares at Cole across the café then turns his focus to me makes my chest hurt. He’s lumping me in with him, and that’s not fair.
“Besides, you didn’t have to play his game,” I add.
“I don’t play games,” he says, his usual playfulness gone from his voice.
“Oh, yeah? What was that bit about being your last kiss?” I whisper my response at him, glancing left and right to see who’s listening because I don’t like attention when it comes to personal things. I step in close, under his chin, and his mouth curves in that amused way I was starting to find sexy but am suddenly finding irritating as hell.
“That was an impulsivethank youI gave you on your cheek. Not a real kiss.Not a real kiss!” I lean in close, poking his chest to make my point then rock back and hug myself, my body growing hot with anger. I like Cameron so much better when he’s being cute and flirtatious. Jaded and jealous isn’t a good look on him.
I blow up at the few loose hairs that have escaped the pins holding my hair in a loose bun. Cameron rolls his eyes as he abandons me to retrieve his order, and I take the opportunity when he’s gone to scan the café for Cole. I’m relieved when I see he’s gone.
