(Almost) Happily Ever After by Annabelle Costa

Author:Annabelle Costa [Costa, Annabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rose Bud Press
Published: 2017-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

I don’t know what it is, but it’s like I’ve got some talent for picking the wrong line. Whatever line I get into is the one where someone decides to pay with a check or has fifty coupons or wants to put the item on layaway. It’s like I have psychic powers that determine the absolute worst line.

So it’s no surprise that the line we’ve picked at Shake Shack in Madison Square Park isn’t moving at all. We had a fifty-fifty shot and got it wrong. We are on the slowest line ever and the sign on the awning that advertises “SHAKES, BURGERS, HOT DOGS, FRIES, SUNDAES, SODAS” is barely visible—we’re that far away from the front of the line.

“I hate lines,” I grumble to Will as I hug my chest. I’m cold. And hungry. And cranky. I want my shake.

“Really?” he says. “I love lines. I could wait here all day.”

I punch him in the arm. Hard. Which makes him grab me and pull me onto his lap, which definitely sort of distracts me from the slowness of this stupid line.

“So we’re sharing a vanilla shake?” I ask him.

“I thought we were getting a peanut butter shake.”

“Ew. You thought wrong.”

“What do you mean ‘ew’? The peanut butter shake is the best one.”

“No. It’s disgusting.”

“How about this?” he says. “Why don’t you get a boring vanilla shake and I’ll get my delicious peanut butter shake?”

“No!” I say. “I don’t want to drink a whole shake all by myself! Those things have like eight-hundred calories!”

He shrugs. “So pour out half the shake in the trash.”

“I can’t waste it!”

“Listen,” Will says, “I’ve been waiting in this line for five hours now.” That’s an exaggeration. “I’m getting my peanut butter shake. All eight-hundred calories of it. But if it’s really important to you, I’ll drink half of yours too.”

I know he means it. And damned if I know where he puts it all. I have a feeling that when he’s at work, he forgets to eat meals a lot.

I lean against Will’s chest, absorbing his warmth. My body is so close to his that I notice when his torso stiffens. I look up at him and see that all color has drained from his face.

“Hey, Libby,” he says, “I’m kind of sick of this line. You want to get out of here and just get some McDonald’s?”

Okay, that was… bizarre. We’ve been in this line for like twenty minutes. I’m not going to just leave at this point. Anyway, I’m not sure if I’m getting old or what, but lately, it feels like the food at McDonald’s just sits in my stomach like a ball of lead.

“What’s going on?” I ask him.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, as his eyes dart around. “I just…”

And that’s when I hear the voice from behind me—a voice that cuts through the air and makes everyone on the line pay attention:

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t William Kaplan!”

Instinctively, I dismount from Will’s lap. I look up and see a small woman standing in front of us.

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