I stare up at the boy handing me our drinks. He winks at me just as Garrett approaches making Garrett giddy with excitement.
"Did you see him wink at me?" He asks me eagerly. "Do you think Max will get jealous if I tell him?"
I pause before telling him that he was probably aiming his affection towards me. I stare at his happy face. Don't do it. "Why don't you ask him out?" He is pretty cute. Blonde shaggy hair as opposed to Jake's jet black hair and even Max's brown fluffy hair. Maybe Garrett has a chance.
Garrett leans on the counter staring at the mystery teenage cashier. "That will be ten dollars and eighty cents."
I grab my wallet and pull out a ten-dollar bill along with some coins. "Here you go." Garrett nudges me, silently asking if I can get the cashier's number. I smile, happy to comply."Oh, my friend was wondering if you could give him your number and go out some time."
"I-" The cashier falters. "I'm sorry but I was actually hoping to get your number." He says, looking at me.
Garrett almost walks away with sass until he realizes that he's there to help me carry coffees. He scowls beside me nonetheless.
"Oh," I say blandly, unsure of how to respond. "I have a boyfriend, sorry." Garrett points to Jake sitting with Max. I grab the coffees and the change, then leave.
Garrett snatches the receipt out of my hands and holds it close to his face. "He gave you too much change. You gave him the exact amount, you shouldn't have had any change. Yet here you are, with an extra two dollars and seventy cents."
I also look at the receipt quickly. It's true. I always pay the exact amount if I can -to make life easier for all the cashiers out there, then I don't have to stuff coins and bills back into my wallet. But here I am, with money that I shouldn't have. "Damn," I say, looking at the coins in my hand. "He rejected you, then I told him that I have a boyfriend, then he still paid for my coffee."
"Someone doesn't take no for an answer." Garrett teases. "But apparently," his eyes turn dark and narrow. "He can reject others."
We walk back laughing at Garrett's witty remark, almost spilling coffee because of my clumsiness. Garrett brings me to the table they chose, secluded and cut off from the rest of the bustling tables. I place the cups at each of the chairs. Garrett and I immediately sense the tension that we aren't part of. The tension that we shouldn't touch.
Yet Garrett, still a little pissed off from the cashier-date incident, wants to fan the flames slightly and asks the question. "What shit storm happened here?"
