Wrong Quarterback | ✓

8 | that god-awful son of my boss

         She doesn't immediately spot him upon walking into Beans & Bagels on the Sunday morning.

Avery wouldn't have minded to continue on with this day as the one that came before – sat in the corner of their couch, wrapped up in a blanket while staring at a spot on the wall – but as soon as she'd woken up to the excited smile on her mother's lips she had known there were other plans already made.

With the excuse of their near empty refrigerator Sarah had forced her out of the house, more or less leading her by the arm from the upstairs floor to the passenger seat of their Mini Cooper, all while chirping about how some air would do them both good. Avery's still not convinced this is better than spending her day in pajamas feeling sorry for herself but the familiar scent of espresso beans and freshly baked goods hitting her in the face as she's pulled into the coffee shop brings out a small smile on her lips, her mood improving. She really could go for an iced chai.

          They're about to walk over to take their place at the back of the line as Sarah stops, sighing. "I forgot my wallet in the car, I'll be right back."

Avery feels her mother's hand slip out of her own, barely having time to open her mouth to respond before she watches the door fall close behind her and she presses her lips together, suddenly feeling out of place on her own. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continues over to the counter, eyeing the selection behind the glass while weighing back on her feet.

          Her eyes find him a second later.

He's stood on the other side of the three-people line, by the corner of the counter, waiting for his order to be ready. He lifts his eyes from the screen of his phone as if sensing her gaze on him and as they land on hers she finds herself turning away. Brows dipping together she heaves a breath. Why did she just do that?

She wrenches her hands together, starting over. Stepping away from her spot in the line, she walks over to him, eyes swiftly scouring over the room just in case but it's still early in the morning. Other than the few people in line and the man in his thirties currently placing an order which sounds appropriate for an entire sports team there are only a few tables occupied – a woman with a stroller, an older couple sat across from one another reading a newspaper each and a family of five.

She lifts her hand in a small wave as she comes to stand next to him, "Hi."

His lips twist into a smile and he slides his phone into his back pocket. "Hey."

"Fancy seeing you here this morning."

She runs a hand over the skirt of her pastel green sundress, feeling rather grateful she opted for it instead of the worn out yoga pants she were tempted to dig out of her closet when her mother forced her to get dressed for a breakfast out on the town.

No matter how much she would have liked to cozy up – and hide – in an oversized hoodie and said yoga pants she's much more comfortable out and about in a pretty dress. It doesn't hurt that the spaghetti strap dress at least attempts to improve her otherwise rather sad look – skin dry and blotchy from the tears that have stained it and zits lingering beneath her skin only waiting to blossom at the most unfortunate times.

"Ella has a game so... caffeine's a must."

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever tried spending ninety minutes watching eight year olds play soccer?"

The corners of her mouth twist into a smile, tucking a stray-away hair from her simple braid behind her ear. "No."

"Trust me – caffeine."