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“Yeah?”

“I think you should come home on your next break. Something is going on with you and I think you need to ground yourself.”

I know she means well and she’s probably right, but my gut says no. I don’t want to be that far from Joey. What if he needs me and I’m not there?

How did I let him get so far under my skin? Why am I so obsessed with him?

“I’ll see if I can. I can’t promise anything.”

“Okay, baby, let me know, okay? I’m worried about you.”

I smile a sad, one-sided smile. “I know, Momma. I love you.”

My parents are amazing. I know I’m lucky to have them. I’ve seen firsthand what happens to the kids whose parents weren’t around or abused them. How the system designed to help them has actually forgotten them or doesn’t care. My parents cared and did everything they could for the kids’ lives they touched. A lot of them keep in touch after leaving, whether they went back home, got moved to another house, or aged out.

But maybe they meant more because they were broken and I wasn’t.

“I love you too.”

I end the call and open my message thread with Joey but he hasn’t opened it. Not surprising. I think the game is still going on. With nothing in mind, I slip down the stairs, shove my hands in my pockets, and wander around. I’m not hungry so I don’t go to the pizza place. Not feeling social, I skip past Rocky’s. It’s cold, though, and I want to go inside, so I end up in a coffee shop on campus.

It smells like coffee beans and something sweet, maybe cookies? It’s hard to tell over the overwhelming coffee scent. A girl in a black apron and a high ponytail smiles at me as I walk toward the counter.

“Hi, welcome to Roasted Mountains. What can I get started for you?”

Her apron has Carly stitched onto it.

“Roasted Mountains is a horrible dad joke.” I smile at her, knowing she probably hears it multiple times a day.

She chuckles and nods. “You aren’t wrong.”

“I don’t really drink coffee…I’m more of an energy drink kind of person.” I look up at the chalkboard menu and none of this shit makes sense. Americano, flat white, latte, cappuccino? What’s the difference?

“So you came to a coffee shop, why?” The smile on her lips is flirty and while a part of me wants to flirt back because flirting is fun, I don’t have the energy for it.

I shrug and lean against the counter. “Just needed somewhere to go.”

Her smile falls to contemplative and she cocks her head while she studies me. “I have an idea. Any food limitations?”

I shake my head.

“Have a seat, I’ll bring it over in a minute.”

There’s a few people taking up the booths and bartop stools, so I head to a corner where there’s a couch and some armchairs. One is facing the big floor-to-ceiling windows, so I take that one and scooch down until the back of my head is against the cushion. I don’t want to stare at my phone, obsessing over Joey not looking at the messages, or watch the game.

There’s a light dusting of snow outside and now that everyone has taken down the Christmas decorations, it’s just depressing. Something about the twinkling lights brings a sense of magic. I guess it’s one more tally against me today.

Carly pops up next to me with a tray. “Spiced hot chocolate with one shot of espresso and a warm chocolate chip cookie.” I take the short wide mug from her and the matching white plate.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiles and goes back behind the counter. I have to admit it smells amazing, sweet, and comforting. The whipped cream is melting into the hot drink and when I take a sip, the cinnamon and cloves make me groan. There’s more in it that I can’t pick out but it’s perfect. The espresso cutting the sweet just enough that it isn’t overpowering and is rounding out the flavors.

I turn in my seat to see Carly watching me.

“You’re a coffee witch!” I raise my mug at her and she laughs. “This is amazing.”

She exaggerates a bow. “Thank you, kind sir.”

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