Not another Day at the Beach

Chapter 7: I'm Late

POV: Max
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A/N: New POV ya'll! Two new POVs will be added, giving us the total of four POVs in this book. These new POVs aren't for just for fun or anything, they actually serve a big purpose in the story. Sadie's brother, Max, is one of them. Enjoy!
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"Sades, hold down the fort while I'm gone." I said, picking up three of the boxes.

My little sister rolled her eyes, which just happens her be her default reaction to everything.

"Max, are you serious? She's fine."

I shot her my best 'I'm not going to argue about this with you' look.

"Fine. Be back soon." She said.

Sadie and I have a way of knowing what the other is thinking. Some type of weird sibling telepathy, I guess.

The girl waited for me, sliding her phone into her pocket as we started down the sidewalk. It was awkwardly silent for a few seconds.

"So uh...you said these were for a meeting. Where do you work?" I asked.

I was trying to get her talking. I always feel awkward when there's a lull in the conversation, and for some reason, I always feel like it's my duty to keep the conversation going. Sadie always says that it's part of my 'annoying social butterfly' personality. Luckily, it worked.

"At The Miami Beach Chronicle, but I wouldn't say I work there." The girl scoffed. "I'm an intern."

Well, it made sense. People my age don't seem to have 'Real' jobs. Most of us don't have enough work experience.

"So you're the girl who everyone sends on coffee runs?"

"Well, yeah. I have to work my way up the corporate ladder somehow. One coffee at a time I guess."

"You intern there full time?"

"No. I'm still a student. I'm a senior at Miami State."

"Oh. How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Nineteen? Wouldn't you be a freshman?"

"I managed to skip a couple grades."

A person my age who just happens to be way more successful than me. Awesome.

"Huh. I'm nineteen and I haven't even started college." I said nervously.

"Lucky you. College has pretty much given me a caffeine addiction at this point. The Starbucks down the road is practically my home."

She lifted an empty coffee cup from her bag. The name hastily written in sharpie on the cup was 'Cornelius'.

"...and yet they still don't get my name right." She mumbled, tossing the empty cup into a trashcan next to the curb.

"I'm Max, by the way." I said, extending my free hand.

"Cordelia." The girl replied, shaking my hand.

"So...not Cornelius?"

"Nope." Cordelia said, giggling. "Pretty creative spelling by the barista though."

"Well, I guess I'm lucky. It's pretty hard to misspell Max."

"I think Starbucks employees just hate me. One time, I asked the barista to change my order when she was halfway done with it, and she seemed pissed. My name ended up being 'Corn'."

"Well, it must be fun at least. Maybe you could make a game out of it."

"Oh believe me, I do. I have an entire Instagram completely dedicated to the daily misspellings of my name by Starbucks employees."