realize how much I knew. Zeke laughing. The look on his face when I swept my lips against his.
Merde.
“I should have stayed with you.”
“And watched me sleep?”
“You’re watching me sleep.” I roll over so I’m no longer facing her.
“You aren’t sleeping. You’re talking to me.”
“If you weren’t talking—”
“What happened?”
Had she heard about the kiss? Had someone seen us? Were they already talking about it? The athlete and the nerd? The taming of the shrew?
“You were crying last night. And given that I heard you lost the trivia game by one point, I assumed it wasn’t because of that. And then I saw Zeke this morning looking like crap, and he asked where you were.”
I flip around, clutching my pillow in front of me. “You didn’t tell him I was crying, did you?”
Alice’s eyebrows raise until they’re hidden beneath her long bangs. “Seriously?”
I curl around the pillow. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. And you can tell me why Zeke looks like crap and why you’re crying. As if they’re different stories.”
“Last time you forced me to leave the room—”
“Yes, yes,” Alice says, jumping off her bed. “But it’s not like you can stay in bed forever. Plus, I owe you for going out last night and taking me home. So let me buy you breakfast.” She takes a glance at my night table. “Make that lunch.”
The coffee shop Alice drags me to—Walker Brothers—is perfect in every way, apart from the fact that it’s across the street from Chutes and Lattes.
“Come on,” Alice squeals. “They have chocolate chip challah French toast yumminess with syrup and sliced strawberries. And whipped cream. It’s basically the best thing ever. Inside or outside?”
I glance across the street. “Inside.”
“Perfect, we’ll sit here in the sun. You need to be in the fresh air.”
“I said inside,” I grumble, shielding my eyes to be able to look at Alice.
“I know. It wasn’t a question as much as a test. We were always going to sit outside.”
“Can we at least sit in the shade?”
She rolls her eyes dramatically but moves to the next table, where we are protected from the sun’s heavy glare by a black-and-white checkered awning. She picks up a plastic menu that matches the coffee shop’s checkered look, but with deep red accents.
As much as I hate being outside the seclusion of my room, this place is gorgeous. Hanging plants and flowers planted along the eating area provide the necessary greenery to make us feel like we’re not actually in the middle of a downtown sidewalk.
So far, foodwise, Merritt is the best place I’ve experienced in real life.
“I don’t even know why I’m looking at the menu. I know what I want.” Alice drops the menu and leans her head back, trying to catch some of the sun’s rays behind her.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” I grumble. My body feels empty, and I quickly gulp down the cool water we’re offered. Alice orders and the young waiter promises our coffee will be here soon.
Water. Coffee. Food. And sugar. Hopefully I’ll be human sometime soon.
Alice drops her head forward and begins to make a tower out of the sugar packets. “Why, because I freaked out last night?”
Damn. “No,” I whisper. “No. I’m sorry. I’m just in a crappy mood because last night was so freaking fabulous until it crashed and burned. So I assume the whole world is in a crappy mood too.”
Alice shrugs, her fingers still trying to settle the uneven pile so it can stand on its own. “Kind of like my night. But I’m trying to focus on the fabulous part, the fact that I tried, and less on the crash-and-burn part.”
She bites her bottom lip, hard, and her eyes fill with tears.
“You should be proud of yourself,” I say, grabbing her hands and stilling them. “You were incredibly brave for going out with a crowd like that. And we’ll keep working on it. There were a ton of people there last night; even I felt claustrophobic. But you’re right. You got back on the horse; you came out again. And you’ll do it. Little by little.”
Alice blinks away the tears, and for a moment, we both ignore the waiter, who puts down our coffees. Coffees with hearts swirled in the foam, and a small piece of wrapped chocolate on the saucer. Alice squeezes my hands and then turns to look up at the waiter.
“Thank you.” She smiles, and I’m struck again how her smile lights up her