Complete Nothing (True Love #2)(73)

“No Darla?” I asked.

Now it was his turn to blush. “Not tonight. I’m here with my family.”

He gestured over his shoulder at a table near the far wall, and I couldn’t help staring. His family. His made-up, completely fabricated family. His “mom” had highlighted shoulder-length blond hair and wore a light-blue fitted hoodie over black yoga pants. His “dad” had on a white shirt and a loosened tie and was checking his cell phone, simultaneously running a hand down the blond hair of Orion’s sister, Amy, who looked to be about ten.

“Weird,” I said under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. What can I get you?”

Orion placed his order, and I walked up and down the counter, slowly placing the cupcakes on plates. “So . . . how are things? With you and Darla?”

“Good.” He shrugged. “Fine. She’s pretty cool. How about you and Wallace?”

I turned around, banged an empty ceramic plate into the side of the display case, and sent the whole thing clattering to the floor, where it shattered into five jagged pieces.

“Oops,” Orion said as some of the patrons applauded.

“I don’t . . . what do you mean me and Wallace?” I asked.

“Wallace . . . the kid with the bangs.” He made this gesture over his forehead like he was combing his hair forward. “He’s your boyfriend, no?”

I stared at him, stunned. “Um, no.”

“Really?” Orion’s eyebrows shot up.

“Really.”

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent sure.”

Orion’s brow creased. “Oh. Well, that sucks.”

“Um, True? You gonna clean that up?” Torin asked me, holding out a dustpan.

I took the pan and practically collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as I swept up the mess. Orion thought Wallace was my boyfriend? How? Why? And what the hell did he mean by “That sucks”?

I stood up with the pan in my hand.

“What do you mean, that sucks?” I demanded.

Orion’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Just that I—I mean—I thought—” He cleared his throat and glanced over at his family, who were happily chatting. I was so tense with anticipation I was starting to shake. “Every time I saw you, you guys were together . . . with the hugging and the earbud sharing and the lunch-having . . . so I just figured . . . Otherwise . . .”

“Complete a sentence!”

Orion blinked, startled.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” I took a breath, barely daring to hope, barely daring to think. “Otherwise what?”

“Nothing.” He suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. “Forget it.”

Otherwise what? I thought. Otherwise I would have asked you out? Otherwise I would have let myself fall madly in love with you?

What, what, what?

“Hey, True. Your shift is over.” Torin helpfully took the dirty dustpan out of my hand. “Why don’t you go clock out? I’ll finish up here.”

I couldn’t move. They both looked at me like they were afraid I might explode. Which at that moment was a distinct possibility. What I really wanted to do was grab Orion and shake him, make him tell me what he was feeling. But I couldn’t. Not without him thinking I was even more insane than he already thought. So instead, I turned on shaky knees and somehow walked myself into the break room without fainting.

Otherwise what? Otherwise what?

For the rest of my existence I was going to hate the word “otherwise.”

Inside the office-slash-storage room, I leaned over the computer and carefully typed my employee code into the box next to my name, feeling half-catatonic. It was as if nothing around me was real. Nothing made sense. And I was moving in some sort of vacuum.

Otherwise what? Otherwise what?

At least my shift was over. I needed to go home. I needed to take a bath. I needed some time to think. As I slipped my arms into my denim jacket, I suddenly felt as if someone was watching me from the back of the room. Instantly the catatonia fell away and the tiny hairs on my neck stood on end, then started to dance. I felt a dread deep within my heart that could not be mistaken.

Apollo and Artemis. They’d found me.

I whipped around, my arms raised for a fight.

“Whoa! Hey! It’s just me!”

It was my manager, Dominic Cerlone. He must have come in from tossing the garbage in the Dumpster outside.

“Sorry!” I dropped my arms. “Sorry. I thought—” I paused. It wasn’t as if I could tell him what I thought. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, running his palm over his dark, thinning hair. “I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”

“What’s up?” I asked, glancing toward the door to the restaurant. How I wanted to walk out there and make him finish that sentence.

Otherwise . . . what?

“It’s come to my attention that you’ve been giving away some free cupcakes lately,” Dominic said, sitting down on the edge of his beaten and battered desk chair. He folded his hands together in front of his mouth. “I need you to know this is unacceptable.”

My heart sank like a god falling to Earth. “Am I fired?”