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“Um…”
Shit.
I’m not about to tell her I’m gay, but I don’t want to lead her on either. Even if she’s fucking with me, which she probably is, I have no idea what to do or say right now.
I peek at Frankie, who’s simply watching us as she sips her coffee, one leg crossed over the other, wearing these black tights and heeled boots that remind me of Katy. She didn’t dress like that often, especially not in front of her family because they would have had a fit, but I know she would have eventually if she’d lived long enough to tell them to fuck right off. We both would have. Me in my crop tops and chokers and her in her fishnets and chunky boots. Two little fuck-ups against the world.
Taylor scoffs behind me, and it’s only now I realize I’m still staring at Frankie’s legs.
“No fair.” Taylor pouts, misreading the situation completely. “You always get them first.”
Frankie shrugs noncommittally, still saying nothing. Taylor laughs goodheartedly before she and the guy walk over to the counter to get more coffees. Ears burning, I go back to my own coffee and continue eating my muffin, not missing Frankie’s stare on the side of my face. I can tell she’s got questions, but to her credit, she doesn’t ask a single one of them.
“I was told to stay away from you,” she says, breaking the awkward silence between us.
I frown at that, turning my head just enough to meet her gaze. “Maybe you should listen.”
“Maybe,” she echoes, running a long, black fingernail over the edge of her cup.
“What’s he told you?” I ask, unable to help myself, but she just cocks her head at me.
Right.
Whether he’s told her nothing or everything, there’s no way she’s about to sit there and repeat any of it to me. I barely know this girl, but I can tell she’s loyal as fuck.
I still can’t figure out what’s going on between her and Nate—whether they’re just friends, fuck buddies, or something more—and I hate it.
I hate how jealous I am of her.
Because whatever they are, she gets to have him in a way that I don't. She knows him in a way I never will. I met him first, but he and I might as well be strangers.
Frankie and her friends leave soon after that, and I make a point not to watch them go. I take my headphones out of my pocket and place them inside my ears. Sipping my coffee, I pick a random playlist on Spotify and hit shuffle, shutting out everyone around me and hoping they leave me alone.
Alone.
Just like always.
13
NATE
“Since when do you venture all the way over here?” Frankie asks, grinning at me over her shoulder as I follow her into the coffee shop.
“Shut up.”
She chuckles and moves up to the counter to place her order. Looking around, I find Xavi sitting at his usual table by the window, wearing a dark gray hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head. I force my face to remain cold and impassive as I watch him be, enjoying the way he shifts in his seat and pulls his sleeves down over his knuckles. His eyes crinkle at the corners when they find me, like he’s trying not to wince.
My face is a punishment for him. And if he insists on sticking around, I’ve got no problem going out of my way to make him look at it every chance I get.
“Nate,” Frankie says, probably not for the first time.
“Hmm?”
“What do you want?”
“Whatever you’re having is fine.”
She raises a brow at that. “A pumpkin spice latte?” she asks, and I scrunch my nose in disgust. “That’s what I thought.” She laughs. “He’ll have a cappuccino.”
