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Dan huffed a sigh in relief as his shoes pressed into the tiny piles of gravel on the street. He leaned his legs against the bottom of his Jeep fumbling his hands into the center console reaching for his wallet. Finally, he slammed his door shut and moved his phone from one ear to the other.

"Yeah, I don't know what's happening between us it's like Jr. high all over again it's ridiculous!" Dan marveled. He slowly swung his lanyard, which held his car keys on it, in a small circle.

Delilah's fingertips drew delicate flowers in the granite tops of her counter as she let out a sigh in response. "Be the bigger person, baby. You know about Peej's temper—"

Dan audibly growled at those words and glanced up at the blue sky shaking his head. "All I want is an apology... I really don't think what I did counteracts what he did to me, momma."

Delilah shrugs, she licks her lips; pursing them. "Well? Maybe going home with this Phil character hurt him just as much as using you hurt you?"

Dan lumbered towards the Starbucks building that commenced in front of him, merely aching for his money. "Phil's not this character in this elaborate story of mine," he giggles, slowly tip-toeing closer. "he just some guy that helped me get home? PJ should have not taken offense to that considering he was the reason Phil had to take me home."

She laughs, closing her eyes exhaling back into the phone. "Oh goodness, this is gonna last forever," she trails off. "just remember, Daniel. PJ will always be your best friend and nothing will change that."

Dan nods into the phone. "I guess...I'm in front of a Starbucks right now mom, want anything?"

"No, thank you though, love."

"Alright, I'll be home in a bit."

Delilah grins. "Bye-bye now, babes."

"Bye.." He concludes finally, hanging up. His hand drops by his side with his phone snug in the folds of his palm. He puffs out his cheeks and walks into the coffee shop.

A tinker bell rings through the shop and instantly all Dan's senses are roofied by the aroma of fresh grounded Arabica beans with a splash of french vanilla to keep the bitter-tasting air to a minimum.

There were surprisingly no lines that Monday afternoon, in fact only an estimated six people were inside the shop not including the baristas.

The mandatory, unsubstantial but simple greetings came from Dan easily considering he had to rehearse his order a few times before speaking. "I'll have a double shot Iced Hazelnut Bianco Latte, grandé," he says with a smile in order to not seem dicky.

With that, he is stuck waiting for his name to be called. He tugs out his phone from his back pocket after finding a booth to sit at. Everything is bland on there, is messages are dry and going on Instagram seemed like a waste of time as he would click off a second later.

The bells that hung in front of the door sang proudly but Dan didn't bother to look; he couldn't care less till a familiar voice traveled through the wavelengths in the atmosphere. Hesitatingly, he gears his look upwards, trying not to achieve any sort of attention.

There he was, in all his glory wearing that stupid football jacket again. I mean it did smell good—like expensive cologne but the good kind...y'know? Dan thinks to himself. Then, he realizes his eyes are absolutely glued to the man's figure. Of course, there is a Starbucks literally on every corner and Phil Lester comes waltzing in the—fuck he saw me, fuck he's looking at me! Dan swiftly dips his head down at his phone, swiping frantically through the pages of his screen. His eyes widen at his screen while screaming in his mind as Phil steps towards his table.