Page 51 of My Fake Relationship With the Popular Boy
“Oh, do you want to go to Starbucks on the way home?” Jaxon asked.
“Sure,” I said. I didn’t go to Starbucks often since there was only one in our area and it wasn’t within walking distance of my school or my house. Everyone at Bayshore who had a car went there for lunch, though. Madison and I always did it when one of us got to borrow the family car for the day.
“What do you want?” Jaxon asked as he expertly navigated us to the drive-thru.
“A venti pink drink please,” I said.
He nodded. When we pulled up to the intercom he ordered my drink, a black coffee, and a blueberry muffin. My stomach growled at the thought of a muffin, or any food really, but I knew it was too late to add something to the order as we pulled up to the next window to pay. I would just have to eat when I got home.
Jaxon handed cash to the worker before I even had the chance to register that he was paying. By the time I figured out how much my drink probably was, the worker was handing him back his change and we were pulling forward again.
“I can pay for my own,” I said. Did I always argue against what he was doing this much? It felt like it was happening a lot today.
“It’s fine, I already paid,” Jaxon said.
“Then I’ll pay you back.” I grabbed my backpack and started searching for my wallet. It was somewhere near the bottom of the bag, under about a thousand other things, which made it a little difficult to find. “Just give me a minute. I’m sure I have cash in here.”
Jaxon put one hand over mine to stop me.
“We’ve been over this,” he said. “It’s what boyfriends do.”
I felt like I should protest to him calling himself my boyfriend but for some reason, I didn’t want to.
The window opened and the employee handed Jaxon the two drinks. He then passed them to me as he waited for them to get the muffin. I put his in the cup holder and held on to mine. A second later, he put the muffin in the empty cup holder.
My nose wrinkled at the smell of his coffee.
“I don’t know how you can drink that,” I said as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Especially black.”
“When I first started drinking coffee, my parents wouldn’t let me unless it was black,” he explained. “They’re fine with me putting milk and sugar in it now but I already learned to love it that way.”
I shuddered at the thought. “I could never.”
“Well, I could never drink…” He eyed my cup for a second before looking back at the road. “Whatever that monstrosity is.”
“It’s a pink drink,” I said, “and it’s the best thing on earth.”
“If you say so,” he said in a tone that made it very clear he didn’t believe me. He glanced at me again. “Eat the muffin.”
My stomach growled yet again at the thought of the stupid muffin. It was sitting on the console between us, just begging to be eaten.
“I’m not going to take your muffin,” I said. If I was lucky, my dad might have baked something in honour of me returning. If he didn’t, I could probably convince him to pretty easily. All it took was me reminding him that I was going off to university in a couple of months and he did anything I wanted. I tried not to use the excuse too much because I felt bad, but in this instance, I was willing.
“I bought it for you,” he said.
“What?” I asked. “But I didn’t ask for one.”
“I know.” If I didn’t know better, I would say he was blushing. “But I thought you might want it. And blueberry’s your favourite, right?”
“Right…” I said slowly. I scratched my head. “Um, how exactly do you know all my favourite foods? Not that I don’t appreciate it but I don’t remember mentioning it at any point.”
“Come on, Evers,” he said. “I can’t reveal all my secrets.”
That just made me even more curious but I guessed it wasn’t a very interesting story. He probably just asked Eli or something.
“Well, either way,” I said, “I’m not going to take your muffin.”
“It’s not my muffin, I bought it for you,” he said. “And besides, I can tell you’re hungry.”
