On The Highest Branch

Chapter 8

"You have no idea what you're getting into, Parker Metzer."

I should have said that instead of just smiling goofily up at him as he left. Ugh!

June had been playing and replaying her library conversation with Parker throughout the entire afternoon. As she floated through all her classes, as she flew her bike straight to Café Dahlia, and as she sashayed around the café serving dozens of customers, she kept thinking about how the conversation could have been improved, had she acted with more sophistication, and not as a love-struck teenager.

At the same time, she also thought nothing could have made it better. It was perfect, as is!

She couldn't get over the way Parker smiled at her and the way he looked into her eyes. She couldn't stop thinking about how he pulled his hands away from her face. She loved the way he "manipulated" her into studying with him, as if she needed actual convincing. This day was just too good to be true!

Now, she was pulling off her apron, still giddy at the end of her shift, when Gramps suddenly entered the kitchen.

"Hey June, can you please stay for a few more minutes? Marcel is running late."

"Sure, Gramps. No problem." She gave her grandfather a bright smile.

"Thank you, Sweetie." Her grandfather looked at her fondly. "Table 9 needs their order taken."

She nodded to indicate she understood.

Nothing is going to ruin my mood today.

That is, until she saw Table 9. Two of the boys who had kidnapped her were sitting in the middle of her own cafe. Even after she had threatened them with certain death.

Impervious, entitled pricks!

The shaggy black-haired boy was looking as depressed as ever. Trevor? Tony? Who cares?! Unlike his companion, he still had his blazer on his hunched shoulders and was thumbing through the menu.

The other guy was the leader. Hiro. That name she couldn't forget. Loosened tie; shirt sleeves folded up to his elbow; arms wide open resting on the back of the two chairs beside his, on one of which he had carelessly hung his blazer; left ankle on right lap. He was the picture of relaxed indulgence.

Damn, Marcel. Why can't you come on time, for once?

She stormed up to the table. She was not about to cower in her own turf.

"Leave!" She demanded in a stage whisper.

They did not even look surprised to see her.

The bastards know I work here. The bastards actually sought me out! To incense me? Or to murder me?

Thomas – Ah yes, that was his name – smiled up at her with a puppy dog expression. "Please, we don't want any trouble. We just wanna eat in peace."

"Don't you remember what I said I'd do the next time you order from here? Or, wasn't I clear enough last time?"

His face fell, "Please, don't poison us."

June pointed her pencil at him, accusingly. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick you out right now."

"Your chicken pot pie is the finest in the world?" he volunteered.

She could not be swayed by flattery right now. "Not good enough. Leave. Or, I'll call my grandfather. Or better yet, the police."

Hiro, who had been watching the entire exchange with what suspiciously seemed like amusement, finally spoke. "Hey, June. May I call you June?"