Page 8 of Late Fees

“Right,” Hannah said, but her brow was furrowed, and I knew she was regretting asking about my ex. And with my reaction, I couldn’t blame her. When it came to my ex-boyfriend, Oden, I was carrying so much anger and resentment, I’m sure I made a lot of people uncomfortable when they made the mistake of asking about him.

“Long story short?” I asked, attempting to squash the tension in the room. I was tired of Oden having control of my relationships—any of them.

“Sure. I mean, if you’re comfortable.”

“He cheated. I walked in on them. I transferred schools and am finally where I want to be. Here. At Lurie’s.”

Hannah gave me a reassuring smile, then patted me on the back. “Good for you. But I’m sorry about the Oden stuff.”

I shrugged. “Like I said, it’s fine. It was the fire I needed under my feet to apply for the transfer. I’ve always wanted to go here.”

“You have? So why did you spend your freshman year at U of I?”

“Long story, I’m afraid.”

“How about this—after your shift, I’ll take you next door for a slice, and you can tell me whatever you want. If you want to, of course.”

“Are you sure?”

“Girl, I believe in venting. Ask Marley, I vent to her constantly. It keeps me sane.”

A sardonic laugh left my lips. “Yeah, and what about her sanity?”

For a second, she looked embarrassed, and I knew my humor had cut a little too deep. Hannah and I had joked around a lot when we worked together in Champaign, but it had been a while, and I knew our comfort zone was not in the same place as it once was.

“Oh, sorry—was totally joking. You know that, right?”

“Sure, yeah, I just…I guess I can be a lot.”

“Can’t we all?” I shrugged. “It comes with the uterus. Being a guy would be so much easier.”

“I know, right?” Hannah chuckled, putting her arm around me. “I’ve missed you, old friend. So glad you’re here.”

“I am, too.”

“Told you he’d give you a nickname,” Hannah said as Sully glared at me. He was an interesting person to look at—not particularly handsome or stylish, but he was definitely an individual. And I had to give him credit for that. Sully was tall, and his weight was in his belly. He had chestnut brown hair, pulled back into a ponytail, and wore a Nirvana T-shirt with black jeans.

“That was quick,” Emmett said from the other register. Hannah wasn’t exaggerating when she said Emmett was the nicest guy ever. But she failed to mention that the guy was gorgeous. Rail thin, yes, which I realized wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I didn’t mind. Veronica always teased me that I liked skinny guys—but then I always reminded her that Oden was 200 pounds with bulging biceps. Emmett was the antithesis of Oden—tall and thin with the kindest eyes I’d ever seen.

Well, the second kindest. But I didn’t let myself think about those eyes anymore. It was just too painful to think about Wyatt Johansen, my first love, and the keeper of the sweetest, kindest eyes on the planet.

He was also the keeper of a significant part of my heart.

“He doesn’t waste any time,” Hannah said, patting Sully on the shoulder and pulling me from painful thoughts of my past.

“Well, can you blame me?” Sully asked, his voice defensive. “You didn’t tell me that our new associate hated Nirvana.”

“I never said that. I don’t hate Nirvana.”

“Don’t bother,” Emmett said, shaking his head before ringing up a customer. “It’s not worth it.”

“You said, and I repeat, “Come as You Are” was ‘overrated’.” Sully put air quotes around the last word, and I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing.

“Well, I think it was.” My words were matter of fact.

“And you also said you prefer the godforsaken “Sweater Song” over “Come as You are”—which should be considered blasphemy.”

“I can’t help it,” I said, still holding back laughter. Sully’s intensity couldn’t be matched, and I wasn’t even about to try. “But do you really think that warrants the nickname? I mean, I listen to them sometimes, but I don’t consider them part of my identity. I listen to Alanis way more often than I listen to Weezer.”

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