Page 55 of The Plan

A friend from NA would always bring amazing sweets to our meetings, and he always talked about how he dreamt of opening a bakery but couldn’t afford it because of how his life spiraled after his addiction.

For his two-year soberversary, I bought the bakery for him and everything else he needed to jump-start his business. I didn’t do it because I pitied him but because he deserved it, and I had more than enough money to not help. I’m glad I did because people from different states come to eat Tony’s pastries.

Smoking August’s ass, I climb out of my car as he speeds into the parking space behind me. “I’ll take those three Gs in cash.”

“You fucking cheated!” He’s such a sore loser. I lean against my car, crossing my arms across my chest.

“There’s no rules to illegal street racing, August.” He should know that since we both raced in high school. We were actually really good but stopped once we went to college because we couldn’t risk our scholarships.

“You took two red lights, Sire.”

“They were definitely yellow.” They definitely weren’t, but they were on dead streets. I stopped at the red lights on the busy roads. There's a small breeze, and a whiff of vanilla hits me. I turn my head and see Vid; her outfit makes it seem like we matched on purpose with her white tee and light-washed jeans.

Hazel follows next to her and rolls her eyes at me. “Yellow means slow down, Traitor, and August, why are you racing? That's dangerous.”

I roll my eyes and push myself out of my car. “Live a little, Hazel.”

Vid chimes in on her best friend’s side. “You can live without putting yourself in danger.” Oh, she shouldn’t be talking. August starts defending himself to Hazel, saying that he was being careful, and I turn my head to the side, questioning Vid.

“My memory may be off, but I recall you liked riding passenger while I sped down the highway.” She was also riding something else, but I leave that part out.

She rolls her eyes and walks toward the bakery. “Your memory is off.” I follow behind her and help her remember.

“I don’t think so. I vividly remember going one-twenty down the highway with you,” I say low enough just so she can hear, “and your legs on the dashboard while I made you—”

She cuts me off, elbowing me in the stomach, and I hold back a laugh. She remembers. I admit that was very dangerous, but we were horny college kids. Plus, the highway was pretty empty, considering how late it was.

We reach the restaurant, and Hazel says she wants to eat outside, so we do. Since August and his headache want to sit across from each other, I end up sitting next to August and across from Vidia.

I don’t hate the seating arrangement since it was this or sitting next to Hazel—it’s just that it brings back way too many memories of our double dates.

There are already four menus on our table, and the waiter comes to us about five minutes after we’re seated to give us all water with a basket of croissants. August tells the waiter we need more time, but he’s the only one who’s being indecisive.

“Bro, just get whatever Hazel is getting.”

He turns his head as he looks at the picture of the cheese omelet. “What are you getting?”

I show him my order, and then he looks at Vid, and she tells him her order. He flips the page to look at the picture as if he doesn’t know what the fuck French toast is.

After maybe another ten minutes, Tony comes over to our table instead of our previous waiter. I give him a smile and rise from my seat to give him a hug. “Hey, Mr. Griffin, are you guys ready to order, or should I give you more time?”

“We’re ready, Tony, and what’d I tell you about calling me that?” He claims it’s a respect thing to him, so I stop bugging him about it. Whatever he wants, I guess.

Tony turns to Vid first for her order, but she keeps her eyes on the menu and spins the ring on her pointer finger. She never liked ordering food herself.

“I’ll have the cheese omelet and a passion colada smoothie,” Hazel speaks up. She steals a glance at Vidia, then adds, “Make those two passion coladas, please.” He writes it down, and when he turns to August, he tells the waiter he’ll have the same as her with orange juice. Then he asks for my order, and I give it to him. He gives me a nod while writing it down, then turns back to Vid.

“And what can I get for you?” She steals a quick glance between Tony and her menu.

“Um…” It’s bothering me how nervous she’s obviously getting, so I speak up for her.

“She’ll have the Cuban-style French toast.” She finally looks up and gazes into my eyes before she looks away to give Tony a quick smile, handing him her menu. We thank him, and he takes the rest of our menus.

We all talk about nothing in particular, and by that, I mean Hazel and Vid gang up on me for twenty minutes, and then our food arrives.

“Who chose to have brunch in a bakery?”

Hazel, of course, answers me with an attitude. “It’s a bakeryandcafe, Sire.”

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