Page 49 of The Last Kind of Kiss
I don’t have anything to say. Rare, I know. My breath pinches, and when I inhale again, it feels like there’s a black miasma marinating in my bloodstream, waiting to seal my throat closed forever. I dissociate without realizing it. Everything around me blurs into indistinguishable blobs, and monotone cadences lull me into a numb, mindless state of catatonia. I’m surrounded by people, yet I’ve never felt more alone.
Everything just…stops. There are no telltale gasps for air or chest pains or gaping holes emerging in the pit of my stomach. And as bad as it is, in that moment of time when I’m brain-dead, I feel peace.
“Are we ready to order?” a cheery voice asks.
Aeris is still rubbing mollifying circles on my back. “Um, can we have a few more minutes please?”
I make eye contact with the barista for a split second—long enough for her to feel my pain—and she quickly apologizes before making herself scarce. I can’t believe this. Just last week I booked a gig to boost me to the top of the modeling world, and now, I’m breaking down in the back of Deja Brew. I wanted to be a front-page headline, but not like this. I’m a joke.
“I’m tired of feeling like I’m never good enough,” I hiccup, using Aeris’ sleeve as a makeshift tissue, the capillaries in my eyes close to bursting, and the heat in my head cloaking me like a weighted blanket.
“And I hate that you even feel that way,” she whispers. “I wish I could take all your pain away, Li. I wish you could see how truly amazing you are.”
While I unattractively blow my nose into my best friend’s super cute outfit, the clunk of—presumably fashionable—boots heads for our table, tailed by a clank of cutlery and dishware.
I peek from my safe haven to find the barista from earlier with a crumbly coffee cake in her hand, sporting a meek little smile that accentuates her pink, cherubic cheeks. “I figured you could use this. It’s, uh, it’s on the house,” she says, depositing the dish in front of me.
I un-Velcro myself from Aeris, pretend to fix my unsalvageable attire, and return a watery smile of my own. “Thank you.”
I didn’t get a good look at her before because, well, I was a bit preoccupied, but she can’t be more than five feet tall. She has long, silky, black hair that’s been thrown up into a messy bun, and her skin’s a beautiful light brown that glimmers in the midafternoon sun. Her name tag—crooked across her taupe apron—says SHILOH, complete with a tiny, hand-drawn smiley face.
“No problem. This coffee cake always cheers me up when I’m down. Maybe it can help you too.”
Before I can say anything else, she gets beckoned by another table, and she gives me and Aeris a small wave before wandering off in the opposite direction.
“See! It’s not all bad. You got a free coffee cake out of it.” Aeris—not bothering with any table manners—swipes a bit of cinnamon crumble from the top and sticks it in her mouth.
A win is a win, no matter the size, I guess. I offer to share it with her, sectioning the sweet bread down the middle with the side of my fork, but its trip to my mouth is cut short when Hayes comes barreling over to us.
“I need to talk to you,” he blurts out, gripping the ever-loving life out of our table.
Aeris fails to discreetly tilt her head at me. “Hayes, we’re kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Not you. I need to talk toLila.”
I stuff a chunk of cake into my cheek because I’m going to need some carbs to sponge up the tears. “Why me?” I muffle around my food.
Hayes doesn’t bother to sit down, even though there’s a perfectly good chair right in front of him. “It’s about Bristol.”
Of course it is. Bristol probably sent him here to enact damage control.
Swallowing the delicious streusel—and now a mouthful of bile—I wave a dismissive hand, standing my ground even in my dirty, hole-filled shoes. “No thanks. I’d rather not spoil my appetite by talking about that limp-dick loser.”
“Atta girl!” Aeris exclaims loudly, turning her nose up at her fiancé in solidarity.
“No, I—” Hayes sighs, defeatedly taking a seat in the chair. “I don’t know what happened between you two last weekend, but I’m not trying to absolve him. He doesn’t even know I’m hereright now. He’s been in a slump for a week. He won’t eat, he won’t shower, he won’t talk to us.”
So I should feel bad for him because he’s finally dealing with the consequences of his actions?
Anger’s copiloting the plane right now, and I don’t think Little Timmy next to us wants to hear the not-so-kid-friendly insults I have waiting for takeoff. The tears have dried, and I’m not against smashing my cake in Aeris’ fiancé’s face.
“No offense, Hayes, but being someone’s bitch is only a good look when thatsomeoneis your soon-to-be wife.”
Hayes opens his mouth, but I hold up my hand.
“Respectfully, I don’t care what you have to say. I applaud you for being a good friend, but I’m never going to trust Bristol after the way he treated me. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try and change my mind.”
Aeris gives me a supportive thumbs-up while she simultaneously pats Hayes on the shoulder.
