Winning Me Over (3 page)

FIVE

PAIGE

“W
here have you been?” Jon barks at me when I re-enter the shop. The scent of coffee beans assaults me. “Does it really take twenty minutes to take out the trash?”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Jon. I’m back now, and everything seems under control.” I sweep my arms around, indicating how dead the coffee shop is right now. It is early afternoon, which is our slowest time. I have no idea why he’s so angry. “Do you need to use the ladies’ room or something?”

Jon glares down his pointy nose at me. “You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your boss.”

I place a hand on my hip, and sigh. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You should probably punish me.” I reach behind my back and untie my apron. “I’ll go home.”

“Wait. What?” Jon sputters, and I want to laugh. “No. You can’t go home. You need to finish your shift.”

The corners of my lips tug upward, but I force them down. “Okay. Well, if you’re sure. So we’re good then?”

“Yeah…um…I guess.” Poor Jon looks so confused. Then again, he comes by it honestly. Bud isn’t exactly a genius either.

“Great. I’ll get back to work.” I paste on a smile, just as the bell on the door dings. “Just in time too. We have a customer.” Scurrying around Jon, I scamper toward the register. When I reach it, I discreetly retie my apron.

A lady in a business suit orders a latte. While making her drink, my mind flickers to Colt and I wonder if I made a big mistake. I mean, he seemed truly stunned when I told him about the robbery. Could he really be that good of a liar or was he telling the truth? I certainly wanted to believe him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I should.

When the drink is done, I hand it to the woman with a
smile. I glance out the window at the near empty parking lot. Did Colt really just come back because he’s interested in me? My heart flips in my chest at the thought.
This is bad. Really bad
. My gut tells me that something isn’t right with this guy, but my heart wants to believe the best about him. I can’t believe I’m waffling like this. Guys don’t normally interest me.

In fact, most kids at school think I’m gay. I hear their whispers and innuendos. The truth is that I don’t care what peo
ple think. Sometimes I even add fuel to the fire just to amuse myself. I’ve always known I’m attracted to guys. It’s obvious to me every time I watch a vampire movie or look in a magazine at some ripped and tatted guy. I just haven’t met a guy in real life that excites me.
Until now
.

And I have a terrible feeling that he’s bad news. Yet, there is a part of me, a very large
part, that still wants to pursue this.
Am I crazy?

“He showed up at
Bud’s
?” Hadley’s eyes bug out. “Don’t you think you should tell the police?” She props her elbows up on her beach towel and pushes upward, staring at me through large, dark sunglasses. Her bright neon bikini blinds me even though I’m wearing sunglasses too. A splash nearby catches my attention. I stare out at the lake and see Tripp’s head bob up out of the murky water.

“You guys should come in!” He calls, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“In a minute!” Hadley yells back.

“I’m not going to tell the cops,” I say. “He said he had nothing to do with the robbery.”

“And you believe him?” Hadley asks, sitting up.

“I think so.” I adjust the large brimmed hat on my head. Glancing down at my red bikini, my gaze roves over my pale skin. Even though I’ve lathered with
sunblock several times, I worry that I’ll burn. It happens so easily.

“Just be careful, okay?” Hadley places a hand on my arm.

“Yeah, yeah. Enough of the peptalk. I didn’t come here so you could act like my mom.” I roll over. “Can you put some sunblock on my back, please?”

“Again?”
Hadley teases.

“I care about my skin, okay?”

“Okay.” Hadley giggles, and I feel cool lotion as she squirts it on my skin. After she rubs it in, she stands. “Wanna get in the water?”

I shake my head, resting my head on the towel.
“Not now. You go ahead though."

“You sure
you don’t want to come with?” Her shadow casts over me.

“And watch you and Tripp make out in the water? No, thank you.” I
shoo her away. “Go be with your boyfriend. I’m fine right here.”

“Okay
.” Hadley’s shadow disappears as she walks off. I close my eyes, listening to her and Tripp splashing in the water. Every once in awhile I hear Hadley giggling or Tripp chuckling. Once my back is too warm, I roll back over. Squinting through my sunglasses I scour the area for the two of them. Sure enough, Hadley has her arms wrapped around Tripp’s neck in the water and their lips are attached. I’ve often teased them that they’re attached at the mouths. Usually it doesn’t bother me, but for some reason today I feel a little tug of jealousy on my heart. As I continue to watch them, the image morphs and I imagine that it’s Colt and me in the water. I imagine what his lip ring would feel on my lips. Also, after hearing him talk yesterday I suspect he has a tongue bar. There was a slight lisp when he spoke, and every once in awhile when he opened his mouth wide enough I could see something metallic. I’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a tongue bar. One time I admitted this to Hadley and she thought it would be gross. I guess that’s why she’s going out with a clean cut, former football star that wears collared shirts and pressed jeans. Not my type at all.

Colt said this town is filled with plastic people. Maybe that’s been the issue. Perhaps I’ve been looking for someone who doesn’t exist in this town.

Only now he’s here.
The words pass through my mind, causing me to shiver. 

SIX

COLT

T
here is an article on the robbery in the local paper. It’s only a matter of time before the cops question me. And when they do, then they’ll know the truth. And so will Paige. That’s the reason I need to just stay away from her. We only spoke a couple of times. If I never talk to her again it won’t be a big deal. Right? Even as I think it, I know it’s not true. That girl has already gotten under my skin. I can’t get the image of her sweet face and quirky style out of my head. I even keep thinking I smell her everywhere.

It’s crazy.
And it’s making me do crazy things. Ever since I saw that NOW HIRING sign in the window of
Bud’s Bean Shop
I’ve been itching to apply there. However, it’s a stupid plan. With my background and Paige’s suspicions, I’m just asking for trouble. The smart thing would be to stay as far from the coffee shop as possible. Then again, I’ve never really been known for doing the smart thing. No, I’m pretty much the guy who does impulsively stupid shit on a regular basis. So, really, why should I change now?

“Hey, Aunt Callie.”
I step into the kitchen early in the morning while she makes Bristol’s bottle.

“Morning, Colt.” She already sounds exhausted, and it causes the familiar sick feeling to sink into the pit of my stomach. As always
, I wonder when she’ll tire of the three of us. We’ll end up in the system this time. There aren’t any more family members left to take us. They’ve all tried before, and it’s never worked out. I may not love it here, but it’s a hell of a lot better than ending up in foster care. Besides, I can’t let that happen to Zander.

“I’ll take Bristol for a little while. Let you get some rest,” I offer.

“Thanks. That would be great.” Relief sweeps over her tired features.

It’s now or never.
“I was thinking maybe I could get a job. Help out a little. There’s a coffee shop around the corner that’s hiring.”

Aunt Callie looks surprised.
“Of course. That would be wonderful.”

I nod. “It’s just that if I get it I won’t be home as often.”

“What?” Zander appears seemingly out of nowhere.

My heart plummets. I drop to my knees in front of him.

His lips tremble. “You’re leaving us…again?”

“No. No
, champ. Of course not.” I draw him to me, pressing his face into my chest. As he trembles against me, my heart wrenches. “I was just thinking of getting a job. But I’m staying here, okay? I’m not leaving.” Damn, Mom and Dad. No child should be this scared of being abandoned. The familiar rage that lies just underneath my skin pulses through my body, poisoning my veins and consuming me.

“Promise?”
He peers up at me.

I hate when he does this. How can anyone promise anything to another human being? Aren’t we all flawed? Aren’t promises made to be broken? “I’m staying,” I say firmly, not able to actually promise him anything. When I release him and stand back up, I see traces of tears on Aunt Callie’s face. I know this is hard on her too. She didn’t ask for any of it. I try to imagine how terrible it would be to wake up one day only to be saddled with the three of us.

I take Bristol from her, who is uncharacteristically quiet today, and bounce her in my arms. Callie thanks me and then hurries down the hallway. I hear the click of her bedroom door and surmise that she’s probably going to take a nap. I carry Bristol into the family room, my spirits lifting when I think about the possibility of working side-by-side with Paige.

Before reaching the couch, I catch my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace. I better lose the piercings and cover my tattoos when I go apply. I have to do everything I can to get this job. It’s my one chance to start over; to do something worthwhile for a change. And maybe even make a friend in the process.

Bud is just an older version of that tool Paige always works with
, almost like he could be the kid’s dad or something. Maybe he is. What did she say his name was? Something with a J, I think. I wasn’t really paying attention to what she said – more how she looked when she said it. I worked really hard on making myself look like one of the plastic people this morning. I combed my unruly dark hair to the side, shaved my usually scruffy chin, lost the piercings, and covered my tattoos with a long sleeved shirt.

Bile rises in my throat
, and my body turns into a ball of sweat while filling out the application. I know I can’t be completely honest on it. If I do, I’ll never get the job. I just hope Bud won’t do a full background check on me. I pretty much live on the hope that everyone around me is more trusting than I am.

Bud offers me a free coffee during the interview.
I’ve never had coffee that wasn’t made at home or at a gas station, so I ask for a mocha. I figure you can’t go wrong with coffee and chocolate. They both contain caffeine, I know that much. And isn’t chocolate supposed to boost endorphins or something? Maybe if I drink it I will seem happier, more peppy, more like someone Bud should hire.

The drink is pretty good, even if it upsets my stomach a little. Then again, my stomach is usually upset. I think it’s from walking around in a state of nervousness and stress.

I answer Bud’s questions the best I can.

“Any previous work experience?”

A lot, but it’s all illegal, so I didn’t put it on my application.
“No.”

“Why do you want to work here?”

I have a thing for the sexy girl who works behind the counter.
“I’m looking for a summer job before my senior year, and I really enjoy coffee and meeting new people.”
Now I sound like a tool.

“
You have any experience making coffee?”

Nope.
“Not in a professional setting, but I brew it every morning at home.”
A complete lie, but surely it can’t be that hard to learn. Right?

By the end of the interview I feel like I don’t even know myself anymore. The guy I described to Bud isn’t even someone I would associate myself with. But my guess is that the real me is someone Bud would never hire.
In my experience, people aren’t generally a fan of the real me. Then again, they’re not usually a fan of the fake me either. Me in any form seems to be a turn off.

Bud says he’ll give me a call when he makes a decision, and I feel like it’s a lost cause. If he liked me, wouldn’t he have just offered me the job right away?
Oh, well. I tried.
As I’m leaving, Bud answers the shop’s phone. The call lasts only a second, and then he hangs up, cursing under his breath. I reach for the door.

“Colt?”
Bud’s voice rings out.

I spin around.

“That was the guy who is supposed to work the morning shift. He can’t make it. Broke his arm or some crap excuse. Are you available to start right away? If so, the job’s yours.”

Good luck is not something I’m familiar with, and my mouth drops open in shock. When I find my voice, I say, “Sure.”

“Great. See you at six.”

“AM?”

“Is that a problem, son?”

“No, not at all.
See you then.” I push the door open and race out into the night before Bud can change his mind.