PYXIS: THE DISCOVERY
By K.C. Neal

|| Chapter 2 ||

Later that afternoon, I perched behind the coffee shop counter in my dad’s café and replayed the bake sale scene in my mind. Ang was working the espresso machine while I manned the register, and in between customers, we dissected the situation.
“I don’t know why you’re so concerned. I mean, Andy’s hot,” Ang said. “Jordan’s pretty cute, too.”
“That’s not really the issue, though. They were acting so freaking weird. And they’re just … I don’t know.”
“You don’t like Andy?”
“It’s not that…” I hesitated as my thoughts flew back to the Winter Solstice Festival and Mason.
“Oh,” Ang drew out the word and nodded. “Maybe you should just go with it, though. Then Mason will know you’re not waiting around for him.”
It was no surprise Angeline knew what I was thinking. Still, I wasn’t proud that my interest in Andy was just to make Mason jealous.
“Yeah, well. Maybe Andy was just really, really into the petits fours, and that’s all it was. He’s probably already forgotten about me.”
I straightened as the bell on the door chimed and two of Sophie’s groupies, Genevieve and Hannah, sashayed through the door. They’d both styled their hair in imitation of Sophie’s side-parted loose waves, with bangs swept to the left. It took all my self-control to not roll my eyes. They wore huge smiles as they headed to my counter.
“Corinne! Oh my God, your cakes were the best! I swear, I will never eat cake again unless you make it. Soo good,” Genevieve said in a breathy rush.
I began to wonder if I wasn’t giving myself enough credit for my baking skills. Apparently I’d gained some big fans with those petits fours.
I remembered that Genevieve and Hannah had bought one of my petits fours to share at lunch—a yellow-frosted one because they were afraid the blue frosting would stain their teeth—plus two of Sophie’s chocolate cupcakes. And Hannah’s allergic to chocolate.
“You want to order something?” I said.
“Well, yeah, duh. But we wanted to say hey to you, too,” Hannah said with a perky little raise of her shoulder. “I totally love your hair, by the way. Really cool.”
This had to be some kind of joke. I swept my hair behind my ears. I’d dyed a chunk of it purple over the weekend, and I knew for a fact that Sophie and her entourage had been mocking it all week. To be honest, I wasn’t sure the purple streak was really me, but at least it set me apart from the Sophie clones.
I decided to call their bluff.
“Oh, really?” I gave them innocent, wide eyes. “I still have some dye left. I could do you guys, too.”
They both looked ready to pee on the floor with excitement.
“That would be so cool.” Genevieve’s voice actually squeaked a little.
I stared back and forth between the two of them. Either they were really, really good at this fake-nice shtick, or … or … I wasn’t even sure what an alternate explanation might be.
“Well, um, I’ll text you,” I said, hoping they’d drop it and just order their stupid coffees.
They both ordered skinny mocha with sugar-free hazelnut—Sophie’s drink, of course; I guess some things hadn’t changed—and moved down to the drink pickup area.
I caught Angeline’s eye. She was trying not to laugh. I so wanted to get her reaction to what just happened, but the bell jangled, and Andy Jones swaggered up to the counter with a couple of other guys.
“Uh oh,” I said under my breath.
“Hey,” Andy said, making the word about three syllables long. His eyes looked too bright.
“Um, hi.”
“It’s really good to see you again. We should hang out sometime,” he said.
I couldn’t answer because I felt a stupid, girlish giggle bubbling in my throat. Before today, he’d never even spoken directly to me. I was surprised he even knew my name. He was one of those guys I think of as a GRAH—Generally Regarded as Hot—not that I was interested in him that way. But here he was, a senior and a star shooter, draping himself all over my register and hitting on me. In front of his friends.
One of the guys behind Andy snorted and punched his arm. “C’mon, dude, let’s go.”
He didn’t take his eyes off me. “I’ll text you later.”
“Okay, yeah.” I knew Ang was just about to bust up laughing, and I could feel blood rushing to my face.
“See? I told you! He totally likes you!” Ang hissed as a few more customers—older people my parents—came in the café and lined up.
I heard my phone chime under the counter. A text, but I didn’t have a chance to see who it was. After the last customer paid for his drink, I dug around in my bag.
I glanced up to check for approaching customers—using phones at work was frowned upon—and saw Jordan Gumbreath through the front window of the café, reaching for the door. Without thinking, I ducked down behind the counter.
“What are you doing?” Ang stood over me, her hands on her hips.
“Sh! Just tell him I’ve gone home or something.”
She snorted a laugh. “Why are you being weird?”
“Please?” I gave her my most pathetic, furrowed-brow expression, and she heaved a huge sigh. I listened from my crouch as Jordan asked for me and Ang told him I was running an errand for my dad. She hated lies, even tiny ones, so I just hoped she’d be convincing enough.
“Okay, he’s gone,” Ang said.
“Thank you, Angeline.” I wanted her to know I really, really meant it. I knew it was stupid to hide like this, but I just couldn’t deal with Jordan. Not after Hannah, and Genevieve, and then Andy. Nobody was acting like themselves, and it was starting to freak me out a little.
Even though the coast was clear, I stayed where I was a minute longer, just to make sure Jordan wouldn’t walk by the window and see me. I remembered my phone, and opened a text from Andy. I blinked and read it a second time, then a third.
I shook my head and held my phone out so Ang could see. “You’re not going to believe this.”