A little light came in through the slats, crossing his face with fine lines. “What are we doing?” I whispered, even though I had known, my belly fluttering.

He placed a palm against each of my cheeks and leaned in, brushing his lips against mine.

The closet burst into color like the Fourth of July, sparks flying behind my eyes. I closed them without knowing I should.

Gavin leaned back. “Do you think we did that right?”

I put my hands on top of his and nodded. Something started that day. This happiness I always felt around him changed from something simple to a yearning, and I didn’t know what for.

But we kept kissing, a lot, more and more. In fact, with that head start, we jumped ahead of the curve for most of the things boys and girls did together.

“Miss?”

My head snapped up. Tea-bag boy was back.

I hopped off the stool and set the syrup bottle down. I had never gotten past the first one.

“Yes! Can I help you?”

He didn’t answer right away, and I could see he only came up to talk to me. “I just thought,” he began and looked back at his table, as if it might give him a clue to what he was after, then turned back to me. “You seemed…something.”

Panic rose in my chest. Jenny and the others had been right about him, and now I’d given him a reason to think I was interested. I had a hard time breathing, and I wondered why I had considered seeing anyone. It had just been too long since I felt this way, this crazy horrifying fear that I might be attracted to someone, that I might rely on them, and that they might just disappear.

The boy tipped his head. “Are you okay?”

“I —” Crap. I what? “I have to go turn something off.”

I raced along the counter and burst through the door to the back room. God, god, god. What was wrong with me? Would I be ruined forever? I leaned against a wall, one hand to my chest. My coworker Jason was supposed to be here, to help. Where was he? I wasn’t up for being out there. I should be doing my setup work in the back.

My chest had gone all tight. I knew what I should do, breathe slowly and relax, but instead I did the same thing as always and held my breath, making it worse, watching the spots flash in front of my eyes. Everything started going dark and my knees buckled. Without anything blocking my airflow, I knew I’d just sink to the floor, conk my head, and then come back around. I’d done it a thousand times in the last few years. It helped. For a few minutes, I always felt like I knew what it had been like for baby Finn, after the ventilator went off, and his little chest stopped moving up and down —

My head hit the floor.

The cold of the concrete against my cheek started bringing me back. The room returned in degrees, first dark, then lighter, then slowly gaining color and sound. I sat on the floor, my back against a wire rack of mugs. Stupid. I shouldn’t have done this here. I could have brought down a whole pile of dishes and lost an entire paycheck.

Or someone could have found me and seen just how crazy I could be.

I heaved myself up and headed to the sink. The water splashing on my face and neck helped me relax and regain control. I didn’t know any other way to cope.

I didn’t have to accept or reject that boy out there. I was going to be fine.

When I walked back out, another customer, a girl, was in line behind the boy. I couldn’t believe he was still standing there.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Did you need something?”

He looked confused and anxious. “I just — you seemed —” He stopped talking and stepped to the side so the girl could come up.

“I need another mocha latte,” she said, casting a quick glance at the boy.

“No problem,” I said and whirled away. The moment was gone. The boy would move on. I would never look at another one again, not until I knew I could handle it, whenever that might be.

When I turned around, the girl was pulling out one of those digital cigarettes. “We don’t allow those inside,” I said and pushed her latte across the counter.

“It’s not a real cigarette.”

“I know, but still, we ask you to take those things on the patio.”

The girl frowned. “I know my rights. There is no ban on these right now.”

This was making my day even better. I took in a deep breath, still feeling the constriction in my chest from my episode. “I don’t make the rules. I just get fired if I don’t enforce them.”

She dropped a five on the counter and picked up her latte. “So kick me out.” Her heavy footfalls on the hardwood floor echoed through the room as she stomped back to her table to make a big show of lifting the e-cig to her lips.

I couldn’t bear to look at the boy, who was still standing by the counter. This was humiliating, plus a problem. Martin wouldn’t really fire me, but he’d be upset. We kept asking him to put up a sign about the e-cigs, but so far he hadn’t done it.

“Hey.” The boy’s expression was full of sympathy. “If you could use a break from all this later, this is me.” He pushed a napkin toward me. “It’ll go straight to my phone.”

The napkin stuck to my damp hand. Austin Thompson. OneQuirkyDude44 was his e-mail handle, which struck me as funny.

“Made you smile.” He tapped the counter twice and turned back to his table.

Jason burst through the back door, his dreadlocks flying behind him. “So freaking sorry. Traffic was a bugger.”

I folded up the napkin and stuck it in my apron pocket. “It’s fine. Only two people here.”

He caught me tucking the note away, but had the sense not to say anything about it. Instead, he pushed an errant hunk of hair out of his face. “Old Man Martin is going to sock it to me if I’m late anymore.”

“He won’t hear it from me,” I said.

“You cool with me saying I was here on time?” He reached around me for an apron below the counter, but I saw him glance at my pocket, as if he was dying to ask about the folded napkin.

I stepped out of his way. “Sure. No point getting fired.”

“That’s why everyone likes you.” His fingers flew as he tied the strings. “Even if you are a Frozen Latte.”

I winced at the nickname and glanced over at Austin, hoping he hadn’t heard.

But Jason caught me looking. “Awwww! Is the ice queen thawing out?” He looked at the pocket yet again.

I backed away toward the door to the storage room. “I have to do the setups.”

“We’ll be calling you Hot Pumpkin Spice before it’s over!” he called after me.

Austin was bound to have heard that. I bolted to my sanctuary and set to grinding the beans that would get us through the evening rush, wishing I could remain invisible forever. 

Chapter 8: Gavin

A pair of giggling girls moved aside as I took the steps several at a time from the top floor of the building to the roof exit. My boots on the concrete made a sharp echo, like striking metal.

A rock propped the door open a few inches. I yanked it wide and the gravelly tarred rooftop seemed to absorb all light. I waited a moment to adjust, my eyes automatically moving to the edges where the city twinkled beyond a gleaming white ledge, and the blackness of the ocean was like the end of everything, like night itself.

Amy, the girl TA I talked to that morning when I switched labs, was lit like a statue by a heavy-duty floor light identical to the ones we used in the shop. “Gavin, right?” she asked. Her face blushed a little as she handed me a popsicle stick. “This will be your cross-staff for the lab.”

I held the little piece of wood between my thumb and finger, flipping it over. Not what I expected. “Rudimentary, my dear Amy.”

She laughed and her face burned even more red. Wisps of blond hair stuck to her cheeks as she reached down into her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper. Her skin was ghostly in the searing light, her legs blown out. She was cute, in a nerdy sort of way, the complete opposite of my type.

“Here are the instructions. You’ll have to calibrate your stick and map out the Big Dipper using it as a measuring device.” She passed me the page. “The calibration chart is around the corner past the door. The degrees on your stick will depend on the length of your arm, so you won’t have the same length as other students.”

“Thanks.” I started to walk away.

“Hey, Gavin?”

I turned back around.

“If you need something, I’m glad to help.” She stared at the paper in my hands. Shy girls. I couldn’t work with them. They seemed so easy to break. I felt heavy with the weight of their expectations, and I knew one misstep could crush their hopes. That was something I was damn good at.

She looked up, cheeks on fire, and I realized why she was so willing to switch me even though it meant more work for her. Good old-fashioned boy crush. “I appreciate you letting me in your group,” I said.

Amy nodded. “Sure.”

A few other lamps had been set up along the roof, the cords snaking every direction. I angled my page toward a light. Draw lines on the stick, yada yada. Calibrate with the wall chart. I glanced at the poster tacked on the wall, where several freshman-looking types were aiming their sticks. Got it.

I dug around in my bag for a marker to divide up the stick. Making a straight line while free-holding something that small would be impossible, so I walked over to the lip of the roof to sit and hold it steady.

The building was one of the dorms on the extreme west side of campus. The city spread out in a twinkle of lights, the roadways like ribbons threading through. All of it was bordered by the black of the Pacific, as though it were a monster bumping up against the edge of civilization.