The Unexpected Everything - Morgan Matson Page 0,25
them sleep.”
“You needed to get up,” Bri said firmly. “You have to be at work in an hour, and I’m not taking the blame if you fall asleep and crash into a Monet.”
I frowned. “Wait, what?”
“Here you go,” Carly said, returning with my food and Diet Coke, not even batting an eye at the fact that two new people had arrived at the table, while one had vanished. “Get you anything, Freckles?”
“Coffee,” Toby said, sitting up a little straighter. “And waffles?” she asked, looking at Bri. Toby almost never ordered anything just for herself. She always wanted someone, usually Bri, to share stuff with her and was forever asking if we should get something “for the table.”
“I’d have waffles,” Bri said, nodding. “Can I get a black tea?”
“Coming up,” Carly said, disappearing again. I looked down at my plate—I was thrilled to see that the bacon looked practically black—and realized how hungry I was. I had just speared a bite of my scrambled eggs when Tom appeared again, hauling a chair and looking out of breath.
“Sorry,” he said, his face now matching his sweater. “I’m back.”
Bri frowned at him and gestured to his outfit. “Okay, what’s going on here?”
“That’s David,” I said, as I crunched into a piece of bacon, “and he really wants a ham for Christmas.”
“The holidays . . . just aren’t the holidays—” Tom started, but Palmer interrupted.
“Tom has an audition this afternoon,” she explained, then turned back to me. “But Andie was about to tell us what’s going on with her.”
“Wait, who wants a ham for Christmas?” Toby asked, sounding more awake than she had yet this morning. “I mean, that’s just weird.”
“Exactly!” Tom said, leaning toward Toby. “That’s the question I’ve been asking myself.”
“Andie?” Palmer interrupted, loud, and everyone turned to me.
I set my fork down, took a restorative drink of my Diet Coke, and told them about what had happened that morning. When I finished, my eggs were looking decidedly cold, and Bri and Toby’s waffles had arrived.
“But I don’t understand how they could do that,” Palmer said as she leaned across the table toward me. “Are they allowed to cancel your acceptance like that?”
“Apparently,” I said, and I could feel my heart start to race again. “Which means I have nothing. No plans. Nothing lined up. I mean . . .” Topher’s words from the night before were suddenly ringing in my ears. Everything good had been gone when he’d started looking a month ago. Which meant I was so, so screwed.
“This Dr. Rizzoli guy sounds like a dick,” Toby said.
“Totally,” Bri agreed.
“I mean,” Toby huffed as she angrily speared a bite of waffle. “To not even give you a heads-up?”
“It’s not cool,” Tom agreed from his end of the table. “Um, are you going to eat all your bacon?”
I pushed my plate across to him, wondering if Tom was really hungry, or if he was trying to get in character as pork-loving David.
“Wait, but that means you get to be here!” Toby said, brightening. “That’s great!” I shot her a look, and she shrugged. “I mean, not so much for you. But it’s great for us.”
“It’s not great!” I said, my voice coming out louder than I’d expected it to, and the family in our normal booth glanced over at me. “Everything is wrecked. I’m never going to be able to find anything good now, which means there will be this gap on my résumé. During the summer I needed something the most.” I could feel my heart start to pound harder, like just saying these things out loud had made them more real.
“She’s spiraling,” Toby whispered.
“I see that,” Bri whispered back.
“Andie,” Palmer said, nudging my foot with hers underneath the table until I looked up at her, “tell me about the cute guy with the dog.”
“That’s not important!” I snapped.
“What did he look like?” Palmer asked, leaning forward, nudging me again.
“I don’t know,” I said, not wanting to think about the guy right now when there were many more important things I had to deal with. I had a feeling Palmer was just doing this to try and distract me, so I could calm down, but when she nudged me harder, this one bordering on a kick, I relented, knowing if I didn’t answer her, she’d just keep on doing it. “Fine. Um—dark hair. Glasses. His shirt said something about droids. . . .”
Both Bri and Tom looked up at that. “Star Wars?” Bri asked, looking impressed.