Page 20 of Cloudless

MONICA AND RACHEL

LILA

A constant thrum of voices and too loud of music assaults my ears as soon as I open the door to the cafe. The line stretches just feet from the door as most of the morning classes on campus finish up for the day.

The thrum of voices and gentle music falls to the background as I mentally count through the change in my pocket. My rumbling stomach protests when I realize a snack is out of the question. I’ll just have to eat some fries or something while I’m waiting for my orders to be ready at work.

The smell of coffee and baked goods permeates the air as we get in line. Ellie’s inquisitive eyes roam over my face as she tilts her head. Her silent inspection sends chills down my spine as her chocolate eyes take me in.

The similarity between her and Kam is normally subtle. Except, however, the color of their eyes.

We inch forward in the line as she breaks the silence between us. “What are your intentions with my brother?”

My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as her question floors me. That is not at all what I expected her to say. “I, uh, my intentions?”

She's unfazed by my stammer as she continues to inch forward in the line. “Yes. I want to know what you want from my brother.”

I break eye contact to look down at my sandals as the weight of the similarity of her eyes to Kam’s becomes too much to bear. My voice displays the uncertainty I’m trying so hard to hide. “I, um, we’re friends. Just friends.”

Her voice is kind as she says, “I didn’t ask what you are. I asked what you want, L. There’s a difference.”

I swallow thickly to regain a modem of my composure. “I…I don’t know.”

Her eyes take on a mischievous light. “Yes, you do. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”

She leaves me standing behind her with my mouth gaping open as she steps forward to place her order. As she orders, her voice is a jumble of unidentifiable sounds. My mind swarms with unease as my eyes frantically roam the room, in search of an exit route to this conversation.

Ellie’s words finally come into focus as she gently taps my shoulder. Her kind smile doesn’t calm my fight-or-flight instincts that are screaming for me to flee this conversation I’m nowhere near ready to face. “What do you want to drink? It’s my treat.”

I’m shaking my head before she’s even done speaking. “Oh, no. That’s okay. I can just get my own.”

A megawatt smile takes over her face as the poor cashier rolls his eyes, more than ready to move onto the next customer. “No way. I insist. If you don’t choose, I’ll be forced to pick something for you, and I don’t think you want that. I’ve been told I have a horrible taste in drinks.”

The weight of the line behind us bears down on me enough to cause me to cave to her demands. “Okay, uh, I’ll take a small iced honey lavender latte, please.”

Her ponytail almost hits me in the face when she turns from me to the cashier, who most definitely does not get paid enough to deal with college students all day.

“Great! It’ll just be the cotton candy frappe and the iced honey lavender latte, then.

Oh, wait!” The cashier almost drops the cup he’s writing on when she lunges toward him.

“I also want a cake pop. A pink one.” She turns to look at me over her shoulder as she raises her brows. “Want a cake pop?”

“Um, no thanks.”

She raises a brow as my stomach lets out a monstrous growl. A victorious smile touches her lips as she pulls her card out of the wallet attached to her phone case. “Two cake pops then, please. Desserts are always better before a meal, if you ask me.”

She takes her receipt, and we step over to the crowded pickup counter. Her hip digs into the counter with the coffee-cozies and the straws as she crosses her arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I did. I said, I don't know what I want.”

She pokes me in the arm so forcefully, I know I’ll be sporting a bruise in the morning. “That’s not a proper answer, and you know it.”

My arm throbs as I try my best to rub away the pain. “I really don’t know what I want. I do know what’s best, though. Friendship is best.”

“Monica and Rachel. Order up.”

Her smile turns sinister as she goes to the pickup counter. “Is friendship what’s best, or is it just what’s the least complicated?”

My brows rise as she sits the two drinks clearly labeled Monica and Rachel down next to me on the counter. “Um, those aren’t ours. I didn’t hear our names called, either.”

She plops two straws out of the holder and hands me one. “Why use your real name when you can be someone new every time you get a drink?”

She rips open her straw wrapper and uses the free end to blow the wrapper into the trash. Her moan of delight when she takes her first drink has heads swiveling our way. “Oh my goodness. That is so good.” A shiver rolls through her body as the sugary drink enters her bloodstream.

As soon as my straw wrapper enters the garbage can, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. “Come on. Let’s sit outside. It’s too pretty today to be stuck in here.”

My plastic cup immediately begins sweating with the first hit of the summer sun. Ellie doesn’t release my hand until we are firmly planted on a bench in the shade of a maple tree.

The shadows on the sidewalk dance from the swaying branches overhead as I take my first sip of my drink. The liquid leaves a cool trail through my chest as it settles happily in my stomach.

Birds sing a happy song in the branches of the surrounding trees as the chaos of the cafe melts away into a distant dream. I wipe the condensation from my cup onto the hem of my shirt. My voice is quiet as I admit, “I like him. It’s just…”

Her body turns toward me. “It’s just what?”

“It’s just not fair to him. He deserves someone who can give as much as she gets. That’s just not me.” My voice fades into nothingness as I whisper, “It can’t be.”

She’s quiet for so long, I begin to believe she’s not going to say anything. With a sigh, she finally says, “He doesn’t talk to anyone about our dad.”

A humorless laugh escapes me as I run my finger over the rim of my plastic cup. “He must talk to someone about it.”

Her voice is serious as she shakes her head.

“No. He doesn’t. He’s never talked to me about it or his friends.

I mean, I lived it with him, so I know a lot of what happened.

Wyatt knows a lot too, since he was there for most of it.

Dax and Mace know some things, but nothing like what I overheard him telling you today.

” She blows out another breath as her voice grows quiet. “You’re special to him, L.”

My fingers drift from the rim of my cup to the face of my watch. “He’s special to me, too. I won’t take advantage of that.”

She nods her head slowly. “I know. He wouldn’t trust you with his heart if you didn’t deserve it.”

I scoff. “He hasn’t trusted me with his heart.”

A smile lifts her voice. “Maybe not yet, but he’s on his way.”

My mind grasps for a way to change the subject. “So, what’s going on between you and Wyatt?”

Her eyes grow into saucers. Her back straightens so fast, she almost drops her drink. “What makes you say that? Nothing is going on between us. We’re just friends. Always have been, always will be.”

A laugh erupts from me as she rambles. “Friends don’t look at each other like that, Ellie.”

She hangs her head in shame as she groans.

“It’s just a little crush, okay? I keep hoping I’ll outgrow it or something, but have you seen the man?

” My laugh only grows as she shifts her weight on the bench.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’ll go away someday.

It has to.” Her eyes grow wide and pleading.

“Right? I mean, I can’t crush on my brother's best friend. We grew up together, for crying out loud! He saw what I looked like when I had braces and before I learned how to fix my eyebrows!”

I clutch at my stomach as I laugh so hard it's almost silent. She swats me on the arm as she gives in to her laughter. “Hey! It’s not funny!”

I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. “It kind of is, though. I mean, it’s one of my favorite book tropes.”

Her eyes light up. “You like to read?”

I nod as I wipe my tear on the hem of my shirt. “Love it. I used to read a lot more before, well, before. Now it’s hard to find the time.”

She taps her finger against her chin. “So, what would your tropes be, then?” She ticks a list off on her fingers as she thinks.

“Definitely strangers to friends to lovers. College hockey romance for sure. Oh!” She snaps her fingers.

I can practically see the hearts in her eyes.

“He falls first! That’s such a good one! ”

My face heats with her insinuation. “He has not!”

A mischievous glint fills her eyes as she pats my leg like I’m a child needing comfort. “You just keep believing that, honey.” She takes a gulp of her drink that is worthy of the world's worst brain freeze.

Alrighty then. Time to change the subject. “Why are you calling me ‘L’?”

She rolls her eyes like it’s the silliest question. “Friends have nicknames for each other. Obviously. And I’m not about to start calling you Sunshine.”

Friends.

What a nice thought.

By the time my hour is up and it’s time for me to go to work, we’ve talked about our favorite books and exchanged phone numbers.

A sense of friendship, which I didn't think was possible to develop so quickly, has replaced the heaviness that marked the beginning of our conversation.

As we rise to leave, her words are barely audible beneath the pressure of the hug she gives me no choice but to partake in. “I like you, L.”

Tears spring to my eyes as a sense of belonging washes over me. “Yeah, E. I like you, too.”