College Fiend [A$AP Rocky]

Four

The sounds of the café blended together in a pleasant medley, taking some weight off of my shoulders. Since last night, memories of my run-in with Neffie wouldn’t leave my mind. How could I be so stupid? Time and time again I find myself having to ask that question of regret.

It was as though a fairy godmother of mine had cursed me, proclaiming that for as long as I lived I would make the wrong decisions and regret them afterward.

And as I stood in line for a fresh, hot sandwich, I realized that telling Neffie my secret was the worst choice of my life.

She switched her hips deliberately as she entered the café, turning a head with each step. Once in a while she would flip her hair, just for an extra drop of flavor. Her minion, Flo, staggered along behind, doing a poor job of mocking her leader’s movements. Neffie whispered something to her and Flo ran off, sitting at their usual table. Maybe Neffie told her to save a seat while she used the bathroom?

My heart dropped all the way to my feet when Neffie planted herself delicately in the chair across from Wayne like a soft kiss. They were talking.

“This is bad,” I mumbled, my knees growing weak. Someone beside me turned to look at me. Who was that? Travis? Oh yeah, Travis.

“What’s so bad?” He asked. His words were muffled by the animal crackers he was loading into his mouth (which he called pre-lunch), but I got the idea.

“I think I’m doing a bad job at keeping secrets.”

The line progressed finally, leaving a big gap for Travis and I to fill. We moved up, and I didn’t take my eyes off of Neffie and Wayne. He was at the edge of his seat, his head lowered and his eyes steadily fixed on Neffie’s.

She was telling him!

“I barely know anything about you, so I figure you’re doing a great job at that.”

I tried to laugh at Travis’ remark, but the sound I made came out more like an uneasy sigh. I could barely keep my eyes open with how sweat beads trickled down my forehead and onto my eyelids.

Why was I so nervous?

Even if Neffie did tell Wayne that I wouldn’t be going to the party, so what? That shouldn’t rattle my emotions like it did now. Was it because I thought Neffie would twist my words to make this seem like my fault? Or because I truly didn’t want to disappoint Wayne after he included me in his video and all? Or worst yet, for fear of becoming a laughing stock?

It was actually all of that, along with the fact that a little part of me believed that a miracle would come and allow me to attend the party after all.

“Bean! You’re next on line.” Travis called me back to the present. He stood off to the side with his sandwich, sticking a few animal crackers into the bologna. I made a face and then glanced back at Wayne, whose jaw had just dropped in shock. I missed something!

“Come on, girl!” The cashier ushered me. I skipped toward her, apologized, and ordered what Travis was having—minus the crackers, of course.

When I finally had my sandwich in hand, we walked down the length of the café and I tried my best to refrain from looking over at Wayne and Neffie. This was the first time that Travis and I were officially hanging out, and I wanted to—needed to—give him my undivided attention.

“So, Travie,” I began as we sat down, testing my new nickname for him. Our table was dirty and Travis wiped it with a tissue, so I stole that moment to check on Wayne: he was shaking his head in disenchantment while Neffie caringly patted his shoulder.