OFF TRACK

27

SUMMER

If I hear the words vanilla and latte one more time today I might scream. I've been at work since eight am and it's almost two pm which means only two more hours until I can go home.

It also doesn't help that I keep thinking about the news my mom dropped at dinner yesterday. Every couple I've seen today makes me think about it, so it's almost impossible to forget because for some reason every couple in the city of Los Angeles has decided to come in today.

The front doorbell digs and I don't even look up from the latte I'm making. I'm in autopilot mode as I say, "Hi, welcome in!"

"Hey!"

I look up immediately.

Trevor's walking towards the counter, a big smile on his face.

I want him to just hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay....but I have things to do.

"What are you doing here?" I question going back to putting a lid on the latte.

"When are you off?" He leans on the counter with one of his hands.

"Four, I can't do anything I have to study," I walk to the opposite end of the counter, "Soy chai latte!"

He follows me. "Not to night."

Excuse me?

"What?" I turn to look at him.

"I'm going to come over, we're going to put on a movie, I'm gonna pick up some burgers and we're gonna just chill," he smiles.

I pick up a rag and cleaning solution, "I have to study, Trevor."

As I make my way from behind the counter, he follows me and keeps talking.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on but I can tell something is wrong and you need to take a break before you break, Summer," he sounds so serious and like he's truly worried about me.

"I don't have time to chill right now," I'm wiping down a table as I talk, "It's about to be finals season and I need to prepare."

"Finals are over a month away."

"And I need to start preparing for my English history class," I roll my eyes as I stand up to turn to the next table.

If I don't start prepping for this exam now I'll fail. I can't remember dates and events for shit, but give me an eight count of any dance genre and I'll remember it until the day I die.

He grabs me by the waist, forcing me to face him. I hold my hands to my chest looking up at him as he speaks.

"Summer, let me help you. You don't need to tell me what's going on. Just let me help take your mind off it for a minute," he looks like a sad puppy and my heart tightens in my chest.

"Trevor."

"You can study tomorrow," he gives my hips a squeeze pulling me forward, "Finals can wait, just take a break, you're going to run yourself into the ground."

"What if I want to?"

Staying busy means ignoring my thoughts, not having to think about my mom's engagement or the job at Playhouse or finals or the team going to nationals. Staying busy means ignoring reality.

He holds my chin with his index finger and thumb making me look up at him, "You asked me help you relax when this started, so..." He pulls away, starting to walk away, still facing me, "I'll see you at your place at 4:30, cheese fries?"

I can hear my heart beat in my ears, "Please," I'm squeezing the towel in my hands.

He flashes me that proud, cocky smile I love before he winks and turns around to leave the coffee shop.