In the space farthest away from the counter, there are a bunch of couches and comfy-looking chairs by a fireplace, which I imagine is a popular space when the cold weather hit.
“What can I get you?” a perky voice asks.
The girl at the counter, wearing glasses and a big smile, doesn’t appear much older than us.
Before Oakley can jump in and order anything, I step up and place my order. “Iced chocolate, please, with whipped cream. And my friend will have…”
“You don’t have to get me a coffee,” Oakley protests.
I laugh and shoot her a grin. “I’m using your cash, so really, this is on you, anyway.”
Oakley rolls her eyes at me and laughs too. ”Fine, I guess I’ll get a medium caramel macchiato in a large cup, half and half, with two pumps of vanilla, two extra pumps of caramel, extra caramel drizzle, whipped cream, and sprinkles.”
The barista taps away at her screen, and I stare at Oakley, horrified at her order.
She mock glares at me. “Aren’t we going to be friends who don’t judge each other?”
I widen my eyes, look away, and mutter under my breath. “Only if not judging won’t lead to the need for an insulin pump.”
“Name?” the barista interrupts.
“Emery.”
I remove my arm from one strap of my backpack and sling it around to the front, so I can fish my wallet out to pay with cash, then we turn to find an available table. I spot one tucked to the side, against the exposed brick wall. Floating shelves above the tables that line the wall host a random variety of decorations,which makes it look like someone blindly selected things from Home Goods.
As soon as our butts meet the seats, Oakley hits me up again. “What are the terms of the new contract? You didn’t say before.”
I bite the side of my finger. “Six months.”
“Six!” she shrieks, the noise ending in a happy crescendo as she pops up from her seat.
Nearly everyone turns to face us. The bell above the door dingles again, which just makes it worse, because the new people enter to a completely silent room. I smile and wave awkwardly before grabbing Oakley and dragging her back down to her seat. Conveniently, the barista making the coffees calls out a name and the chatter restarts. “Shhh, jesus, Oaks. Keep it in your pants.”
“Six months. And what’s the gift this time?” Her face isn’t hiding her excitement at all.
I hesitate and glance at the door as people leaving catch my eye. Is this really something I should be sharing with her? It’s a shit ton of money. More than I expected to see, even in my first year after graduation. Will she be jealous? Will it ruin our budding bosom buddy dreams?
Oakley rolls her eyes at me. “Em, babe, I’m living for this. It’s like you are the main character in a rom-com or something. Could you imagine if they all end up falling in love with you, but then you have to choose just one of them to marry and start a life with? Swoon.”
She tips back on her seat and throws the back of her hand against her forehead, but I can’t find the comedy in her words.
Choose?
No. Nope. Absolutely not.
I’d prefer to have none of them, than only one. My heart aches at the thought of only having one of them with me, short or long term. I’m not delulu enough to think that they will pickme forever—well, mostly not. But maybe for a couple of years? While I’m in college, at least. That would be amazing.
And as for the marry-and-start-a-life thing? No, thank you.
A two-bedroom house with a cat is enough for me.
Absolutely no interest in starting a family.
Zero.
“Anakin Skywalker, I swear,” she promises, drawing a cross over her chest, big baby blues all wide and open.
With a deep breath, I try to shake off the nerves and open my mouth to answer her, but then a feminine voice calls out my name.