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“Most people find me charming.” He smiles, but I don’t reciprocate. “It smells so good in here. Please tell me there are leftovers.” His eyebrows wiggle and I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Keep sweeping.” I head behind the counter and assemble a plate of leftover beef and chicken shawarma with pickled turnips, pickles, raw onions, hummus, tahini, and a pita. “Hot sauce?”

“Are the popes Catholic?”

I grit my teeth and squirt extra hot sauce over his plate before bringing it to the table. “It’s on the house,” I say, as he reaches into his back pocket. Axel actually finishes sweeping before he sits. He immediately rips the pita in half and assembles his own sandwich.

I nod to the plate. “I got you a fork.”

“Don’t need it,” he says before inhaling a gigantic bite. I pass him a napkin and lean back in my seat.

“So,” I start, not really knowing what to say next.

“So.” Axel nods before taking another bite.

“School starts Tuesday.”

“For real? I thought it was next week.”

“Right. Tuesday is next week.”

“Is it already Labor Day tomorrow?”

“Do you wear a watch? Or a fitness device? How do you keep track of dates?” I ask.

“It’s summer. Who’s keeping track of dates?”

I run my hands through my hair and sigh. “Maybe this was a mistake. How about I just pay you the money to fix Betty White and then we can pretend none of this ever happened?”

He sits up and wipes his face. “You’ve got four hundred and fifty dollars?”

“Four hundred and fifty dollars?” My eyes bug out of my head as Axel passes me a folded-up piece of paper from his back pocket. “That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s the third quote I got,” he says, taking another bite. “And the cheapest.”

“No,” I say, sliding the estimate across the table. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

“You don’t get paid working here?”

“It’s complicated. Plus, I have a thing for special edition hardcovers and those are kind of pricey.” Not to mention gas money for when my tiny allowance runs out and then there’s my penchant for cheeseburgers.

“I have an idea,” Axel says. He pushes the plate aside and leans his elbows on the table. “I’ll cover half of this bill if you agree to helpmeout.”

“Umm…am I not already providing you with rides?”

“That deal is mutually beneficial. And since the two of us are going to be hanging out anyway…”

“I am not agreeing to sexual favors,” I say, sitting up straight.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he retorts, eyeing me up and down. “My parents, Dad in particular, aren’t really on board with my dancing. That’s where you come in.”

I nod as I try to follow along. “So, you want me to pretend I’m your girlfriend because you’re gay?”

“No. God, Jamie, stereotypical much?”

If Axelweregay, this whole fake-dating thing would probably be easier. I wouldn’t have to worry about him getting mixed messages or falling in love with me.

“Okay. Go on,” I say.