but overall, I’ve been a very good daughter. Have they forgotten the real Tee all because I made one mistake?
“I’ll see you later,” I mutter and turn to leave. My parents don’t try to stop me. I climb into the Beast and drive toward school.
“God, they suck!” I yell to my empty car.
At a traffic light, I lean my head against the steering wheel. Coffee. I still need coffee. I will not survive without it. I quickly flip a U-turn and speed down the four-lane.
Five minutes later, I swing open the door to Donut Palace and beeline to the counter. “Grande skim latte, please,” I tell the barista.
“It’s on me.”
I groan under my breath. The sexy landscaper is back. I mentally repeat my No more boys mantra, give him a curt smile, and say, “No, thank you.”
“C’mon, you know you want me to buy you coffee. A coffee that’s hot and dark, just like me.”
I snort and burst out laughing. “You did not just say that.”
“How about it?” He winks at me.
“No, thank you.” I turn back to pay the cashier.
“C’mon, bab—”
“She said no.”
I whip around to find Ezra. Landscaper Guy eyes Ezra, who’s wearing a Hall’s Construction T-shirt.
“Dude, why would she want a construction rat when she could have a landscaping lion ?”
I crack up again.
His pickup line was so ridiculous, I expect Landscaper Guy to send a horny pelvic thrust in my direction, but he vamooses when Ezra gives him the glare to end all glares.
I can’t say I’m not glad the landscaping lion ran off to rejoin the pride, but I’m not thrilled to see Ezra again either. My heart skips at the sight of his green eyes.
No. More. Boys.
When I give my debit card to the cashier, Ezra hands the woman a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll get yours.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“Would you rather the landscaping lion buy it for you?” he says with a laugh.
“I can pay for it myself.”
Hearing the hard edge of my voice, Ezra lets me buy my own latte.
Ezra places an order for a coffee and six cinnamon doughnut holes, then turns to me.
“I figured you might come here,” he says.
“How’d you know?”
“You love lattes, and this place has the best ones in town. You always ordered them at the Friendly Bean at St. Andrew’s.”
I smile a little. He noticed that when we were in school together?
“Donut Palace is so much better than the Friendly Bean,” I say.
“Yeah, I’d forgotten how much I love the doughnut holes here.”
The barista calls my name and holds out my drink to me. I take it and nod at Ezra’s tee. “What’s the shirt for?”
“I’m working for a construction firm.”
“Why?”
He looks into my eyes for a long moment, then shrugs. “I just like it.”
As a kid, Ezra loved taking things apart and putting them back together. Computers, car engines, microwave ovens. It drove everybody batty. One time, Ezra convinced my brother to disassemble Dad’s riding lawnmower. My father grounded Oliver for a week for not being assertive enough to stand up to Ezra. Another time, Ezra got detention at school for taking apart a teacher’s SMART Board.
So it’s not totally surprising he likes construction. But why is he doing it during the school year?
“What about college?” I ask. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for missing classes?”
Ezra’s coffee is ready. He picks it up at the counter along with a white paper bag of doughnut holes. “I’m not going back this semester.”
I touch his forearm. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” He stares down at my hand on his skin. He clears his throat, then gruffly says, “Look, I need to get going.”
I take a long sip of coffee and watch him stalk out into the parking lot. What’s up with him?
Then I remember he’s not my problem, and I don’t want him to be.
• • •
I made it to the weekend!
I celebrate by going shopping at the Gap for new jeans, followed by a long run. After showering and dressing to
“I’ll see you later,” I mutter and turn to leave. My parents don’t try to stop me. I climb into the Beast and drive toward school.
“God, they suck!” I yell to my empty car.
At a traffic light, I lean my head against the steering wheel. Coffee. I still need coffee. I will not survive without it. I quickly flip a U-turn and speed down the four-lane.
Five minutes later, I swing open the door to Donut Palace and beeline to the counter. “Grande skim latte, please,” I tell the barista.
“It’s on me.”
I groan under my breath. The sexy landscaper is back. I mentally repeat my No more boys mantra, give him a curt smile, and say, “No, thank you.”
“C’mon, you know you want me to buy you coffee. A coffee that’s hot and dark, just like me.”
I snort and burst out laughing. “You did not just say that.”
“How about it?” He winks at me.
“No, thank you.” I turn back to pay the cashier.
“C’mon, bab—”
“She said no.”
I whip around to find Ezra. Landscaper Guy eyes Ezra, who’s wearing a Hall’s Construction T-shirt.
“Dude, why would she want a construction rat when she could have a landscaping lion ?”
I crack up again.
His pickup line was so ridiculous, I expect Landscaper Guy to send a horny pelvic thrust in my direction, but he vamooses when Ezra gives him the glare to end all glares.
I can’t say I’m not glad the landscaping lion ran off to rejoin the pride, but I’m not thrilled to see Ezra again either. My heart skips at the sight of his green eyes.
No. More. Boys.
When I give my debit card to the cashier, Ezra hands the woman a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll get yours.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“Would you rather the landscaping lion buy it for you?” he says with a laugh.
“I can pay for it myself.”
Hearing the hard edge of my voice, Ezra lets me buy my own latte.
Ezra places an order for a coffee and six cinnamon doughnut holes, then turns to me.
“I figured you might come here,” he says.
“How’d you know?”
“You love lattes, and this place has the best ones in town. You always ordered them at the Friendly Bean at St. Andrew’s.”
I smile a little. He noticed that when we were in school together?
“Donut Palace is so much better than the Friendly Bean,” I say.
“Yeah, I’d forgotten how much I love the doughnut holes here.”
The barista calls my name and holds out my drink to me. I take it and nod at Ezra’s tee. “What’s the shirt for?”
“I’m working for a construction firm.”
“Why?”
He looks into my eyes for a long moment, then shrugs. “I just like it.”
As a kid, Ezra loved taking things apart and putting them back together. Computers, car engines, microwave ovens. It drove everybody batty. One time, Ezra convinced my brother to disassemble Dad’s riding lawnmower. My father grounded Oliver for a week for not being assertive enough to stand up to Ezra. Another time, Ezra got detention at school for taking apart a teacher’s SMART Board.
So it’s not totally surprising he likes construction. But why is he doing it during the school year?
“What about college?” I ask. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for missing classes?”
Ezra’s coffee is ready. He picks it up at the counter along with a white paper bag of doughnut holes. “I’m not going back this semester.”
I touch his forearm. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m fine.” He stares down at my hand on his skin. He clears his throat, then gruffly says, “Look, I need to get going.”
I take a long sip of coffee and watch him stalk out into the parking lot. What’s up with him?
Then I remember he’s not my problem, and I don’t want him to be.
• • •
I made it to the weekend!
I celebrate by going shopping at the Gap for new jeans, followed by a long run. After showering and dressing to
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