Who Are You \\ Laucy

Chapter 19

"Hi," a weak voice escaped from my mouth. Vero stood there with an amused grin on her face as her foot held the door ajar. My hands tugged at the hem of my shirt as I waited for her to say something. Anything.

"How may I help you?" she asked in a cashier-like fashion. I sent her a playfully annoyed glare, but her expression remained indifferent.

"Oh wait," she continued thoughtfully, "you're here to take Lucy on a date!" Her voice traveled through the empty hallway. It was definitely loud enough for Lucy, or anyone in a fifty-foot radius to hear.

Heat quickly rose to my face, and I went to smack Vero's arm but she swiftly dodged it, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. Quickly averting my eyes to the floor, which was a lot more interesting now, I let out a nervous chuckle.

Looking up again, Lucy stood in the doorway, not an ounce of discomfort or nervousness on her face. My eyes instinctively traveled to her exposed stomach, her gray crop top was ribbed and very form-fitting. I squinted. The leather jacket draped around her shoulders was the same as the one Vero usually wore. Hmm.

Gentle chestnut waves framed her face elegantly, and I suddenly felt underdressed with my plain white tee and jeans. I ran a hand through my hair, which I hadn't spent enough time doing, I reckoned.

"Damn..." I muttered, hoping she didn't hear me.

Before I could say anything else, Vero popped out from behind her, a smile reaching from ear-to-ear. "Make sure she's home by midnight, Lauren."

"It's eight in the morning."

"Exactly," Vero said, waving me off.

With that, she quickly pushed Lucy out of the doorway, slamming the door. She stumbled and gripped my hands for balance.

"Hey," she breathed, still holding my hands.

"So..." I began, my gaze traveling to our interlocked fingers.

Her eyes promptly followed mine, and she hurriedly released my hands from hers. Now she looked flustered. A small smirk tugged at my lips.

"Not a date," she declared with a little too much vigor.

"Right."

---

I shuddered as a chilly wave of air enveloped us upon our entrance to the cafe. Sure, Miami was hot, but that doesn't mean you have to crank the AC all the way 24/7. I half expected a penguin to pop out from behind a booth any moment.

"I'll order," she said as she wrung her hands meticulously. I glanced from the chalkboard menu to her. Her gaze was fixed to the white, cursive letters that were displayed above the four baristas that hastily assembled drinks and pastries.

"How chivalrous," I joked.

She frowned and turned to face me. "No. I'm just trying to be nice. Apparently, some people think I'm not."

"By people, do you mean Emery?"

"How'd you know?" she asked, her eyes scrutinizing mine.

I wasn't about to admit that I talk about her to Emery.

"Uh, lucky guess? She's always trying to change people. You know, like Robin, she always says how he's too short. But it's not like that's something he can change. She's crazy," I laughed loudly as if what I said was the funniest thing I've ever heard.

Phew, dodged a bullet there. It's scary how good I am at lying.

I told her my order before sliding into an olive green booth by the window. The street was surprisingly busy for how early it was. The sun beat down enchantingly, its substantial glow reflected off car windshields and the silvery benches that lined the park across the street.