Page 13 of Quarterback Sneak

He smirks. “Okay. Agree to disagree.”

“Anyway, aside from that,” I push. I don’t really know why; call it curiosity.

He shrugs. “We fit together.”

“We fit together?” I repeat.

“Stop over-analyzing it. Just go on a date with me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” I can’t help the snark in my voice.

He shakes his head and mumbles something being trouble, but I ignore it. Sam comes back to the table and sets her plate down. “Good grief, is every student enrolled this semester eating this hour?”

I look at the crowd. “Looks like it.”

“Are you working later today?” she asks.

I nod. “After my last class.”

“I expect it to be busy with it being the start of the weekend.”

I nod. “I’ll bring my A-game.”

“Good.”

I pull out my textbook for my Intro to Early Ed class next hour, because we’re supposed to have a quiz today. Sam and Jace talk, but I mostly tune them out. I only look up when somebody taps my shoulder. “Hi, remember us?” Sam asks.

I shake my head. “Yes. Remember my classes?”

She waves off my concern. “You’ll be fine.”

Jace stands up and picks up his trash and then surprises me by dropping a hand on my shoulder. I freeze at the contact, unsure as to what he’s doing. He ends up kissing the top of my head. “I’ll catch you later. What time do you work?”

I still haven’t recovered from his touch. “Uh,” my mind is blank. He runs a hand over my hair.

“Work. What time?”

“Two-thirty to ten-thirty.”

“Okay. I’ll stop in sometime during your shift.” He’s gone a moment later, but it takes me a minute to start breathing again.

“Not sure about you and Jace, huh?” There’s a wicked smirk on Sam’s lips. All I can do is shake my head, because I really hadn’t seen that coming.

We part ways after lunch, and I head to my afternoon classes. By the time I get to the coffee shop later that afternoon for my shift, my brain is mush. I push through the doors of the shop and am hit instantly with the scent of coffee beans and the sounds of casual flirting. There are some students that try to study, but I feel like this coffee shop is the one for flirting. I’ve stopped in two of the other coffee shops across campus, and they seem to be more for those students, like myself, that would come to a coffee shop to study. This one, however, is the largest. It's super popular and always packed. It’s good for business andgood for me, because I like to stay busy when I’m working. It helps the time pass faster.

I snag a navy blue apron from the back and pull my hair into a topknot on my head to keep it out of the way. “Hey, Evie,” Bisch calls out.

“Hey, Bisch, how’s it going?”

“Busy.”

I finish tying my knot and throw my nametag on before clocking in. “You’re looking good, Evie. You’re going to get extra tips tonight.”

Bisch, I’ve learned, is a harmless flirt. He’s a big guy with dark skin and an infectious smile who makes friends with literally every person that comes into the shop. He's also the most positive person I’ve ever met. “I’m telling you. We’re going to earn big tips tonight, Evie. I just know it.”

I grin. “I hope so.” I know reality. We won’t. College students are broke; I know because I am one. But one can hope. I get to work making drinks. We keep up a steady stream of customers, and I’m grateful because it helps the time to pass quickly.

“Hey, my people,” Sam says as she comes inside. “How’s it going?”