Page 30 of Witch You Would
“It’s good. Great. Thank you.” Mm, sweet caffeine.
He relaxed and drank his own coffee. The silence got uncomfortable.
“Do you like sugar?” I asked, pointing at his cup.
“Nah, I got used to drinking it black in grad school.”
The idea of Leandro Presto going to college would never have occurred to me in a million years. I’d assumed he was mostlyself-taught, like me.
I yeeted my feelings of educational inadequacy into the sun. “Where did you go to school? What did you study?”
He cupped a hand around his mouth and whispered, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to curse you.”
Paranoid much? “Sorry, I didn’t know it was a secret.”
“It’s fine, I just try to keep stuff private.”
“Don’t want fangirls showing up at your house?”
Leandro winced and looked down at the table. “You’d be surprised how weird some people can get.”
“Really?”
“The first time someone handed me her underwear, I dropped them like they were on fire.”
“It’s happened more than once?”
His mustache twitched as he made a stinky-smell face. “Three times. At least cookies I can share.”
Poor little popular boy, such a hard life. Okay, I needed to stop having bitch-eating-crackers reactions to him. PositivePenelope mode, on!
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I promise I won’t be weird. I mean, I’ll be normal weird. Cool weird.”
“Flaming-llama-hearts weird?”
“Exactly! Here, look.” I pulled out today’s apron. This one was purple, covered in cartoony black cats with yellow eyes doingcute magic things. Some peeked out of cauldrons, others played with wisps of magic, and some hung from the handles of broomstickslike the kitten in that inspirational poster. I’d worn a black shirt, figuring it was neutral enough to make wardrobe happy,so the apron wouldn’t clash.
Leandro looked at his shirt, looked at my apron, and smiled at me like I’d given him a present. My face warmed up as I smiledback. I wasn’t going to give him my underwear anytime soon, but I could admit he was cute. To myself. Privately.
“That is definitely cool weird.” His smile faded, and he moved to sit next to me, lowering his voice. “Before we start today,should we, um, set boundaries? So we don’t cross any lines and make each other uncomfortable.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure.” He sipped his coffee. “No wedgies? No whipped cream fights? No sharing a plate of spaghetti and slurping upthe same noodle?”
“Definitely none of those things,” I said. “Honestly, what even is flirting? I’m trying to think of how it usually works inmovies and TV shows, and my brain is empty.”
“No real-life experience to use?” Leandro asked. “Not trying to be chismoso, just wondering.”
“I don’t really date.” I stared down at my sneakers. “Sometimes I go out dancing with friends, or have a few drinks at karaokenight, but the rest of the time I’m working, or, um . . .” My face felt warm.
“‘Um’?”
“Don’t judge me. I read, mostly books on magic theory, whatever I can get at the library. I watch documentaries, andCast Judgment, obviously.” Did I want to tell him about my abuela’s spellbook? Not yet. Too personal. “There’s also this blog I like thatgives spell advice and recipes, a local guy runs it. It’s pretty cool.”
Leandro choked on his coffee and started coughing. I put down my drink and slapped him on the back a few times, until he wavedat me to stop.
“I’m good,” he wheezed. “Went down the wrong way.”
