Page 55 of Riding the Sugar High

“Really? Why?”

I think of answering with,Because I don’t like strangers asking me personal questions, but settle instead on a mumbled “Too crowded. Noisy. And I swear everyone keeps staring at me today.”

“You do look like an outdoorsy guy,” she says, leaning against the counter with a grin I don’t fully understand but makes me all sorts of uncomfortable. It’s too...friendly. “But I’m pretty sure people are staring at you because of, uh, Primrose.”

Noticing my blank stare, she cocks a brow. “She’s Sugar High, is she not?”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“She’s quite the internet personality.”

I check the machine again. What’s wrong with this card? “Uh-huh.”

“Especially after the list—that Gracen dude is an asshole. Why would he post it online?”

Great, now I’m gossiping.

I hum, whichshouldbe enough for the conversation to die, but after a long silence, she asks, “Do you work around here?”

“No,” I say, eyes stuck to the buffering icon. “I have a farm.”

Her eyes narrow.

“A vegan farm.”

“Oh. That sounds cool. I’ve never been on a farm.”

God, what’s taking so long? And where is Primrose? I turn around, but can’t see her past the busy tables.

There’s a beep, and I release a breath, waiting for my receipt so I can walk away. Free of Cassidy, I notice Primrose sitting a few tables down, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looks down at her phone.

Thinking of the billion scrunchies disseminated all over my house, I join her.

Her eyes meet mine, and she excitedly wiggles on her chair. “How did that”—she jerks her head toward the counter—“go?”

“What, paying? My farm’s doing like shit, but I can still afford coffee.”

“No, not paying.” She rolls her big blue eyes at me as if I’m supposed to know what the hell she’s talking about, then wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “Cassidy.”

“What about Cassidy?”

“Logan, she was flirting with you.”

“What?” I look back to where Cassidy is working behind the counter. She turns to me and smiles, so I quickly focus back on Primrose.Wasshe flirting with me? “She was just being friendly,” I scold her. “Don’t turn this into a whole thing.”

“You seriously—” She scoffs. “Then why did you ask me to leave?”

“I didn’t ask you to leave. I said I’d pay.”

She looks up as if thinking about it. “Oh. So you’re not interested?”

“No, I’m not...” I lean forward, then insist, “She wasn’t flirting with me, okay? Just because she’s a vegan, it doesn’t mean we’ll play together.”

She widens her eyes. “Can’t say I feel too sorry for Cassidy.”

“Hm.” I tap my foot, impatient for the food to arrive. The neon lights here give me a headache, and the noise is unbearable. People chatting, a service dog barking, children screaming. It’s mayhem, and there’s a nearby table of teenagers cackling like hyenas and driving me mad.

“Here’s your food.” Cassidy appears beside me and sets the tray on the table. She dishes out our orders, and I can feel Barbie’s inquisitive eyes glued to the side of my face. What is she expecting to see, exactly? My eyes turning into cartoon hearts and thin red lines on my cheeks?