Summer Alone (Summer #1) by Amy Sparling

Author:Amy Sparling [Sparling, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00N533V0K
Publisher: 336Love
Published: 2014-10-01T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Mom stares at me as I pour a cup of coffee. Yeah, I’m a coffee drinker now. I never really cared about coffee besides the random Starbucks Frappuccino until I started working at C&C. Ollie makes like four pots of coffee a day so we always end up drinking it out of boredom. He likes to experiment with different flavored creamers from all over the world. Unfortunately the only creamer we have at home is reduced fat milk.

“What?” I say, dropping a spoonful of sugar into my cup and stirring it up. “I like coffee now. Also, we should get some sugar cubes. They’re way more fun.”

“Sugar cubes?” Mom fills her own coffee mug up to the brim since she drinks it black. “What are you, some kind of fancy coffee connoisseur now?”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of coffee, which is so not as good without Ollie’s fancy creamers. “We have sugar cubes at work and it’s fun to drop them into your coffee and watch them disappear.” Half the time I’m tempted to eat the cubes straight out of the box, letting them dissolve on my tongue. One of my favorite books, Chasing Forever Down, has a character named Topher who eats sugar cubes all throughout the book. If I wasn’t afraid of becoming a hyperactive maniac, I might do the same thing.

“Let me guess, that guy at work likes sugar cubes,” Mom says, wiggling her eyebrows at me as she sips her coffee.

“What? No.” I groan and gulp down the rest of my coffee.

“Oh come on,” Mom says in her trying-to-be-cool voice. “I’m just playing with you! Geez!”

“No, Mom. You’re trying to make it weird. Braedon is just a coworker.”

She nods in this really sarcastic way. “A coworker that has a super huge crush on you! Oh stop blushing, Becca. He’s cute. You should be happy about it.”

“Oh my god. I am not having this conversation with you.” I rinse out my coffee cup as quickly as possible and grab my purse off the counter, singing “La la la la la la,” as my mother goes on and on about how cute she thinks Braedon is, based on her very tiny knowledge of what he looks like. Ugh, I swear. Your mom walks into your work when you’re having one tickle fight with a coworker and she won’t ever let you forget it.

Not that I could ever forget it, either. It was the greatest tickle fight in the history of the world.

If she only knew the truth, that Braedon is about a million times more popular than I’ll ever be, and I’m sure he has a ton of other female admirers that flock around him outside of work. Maybe then she’d shut up and stop picking on me, acting like her daughter has a boyfriend. My goal this summer is to become more popular, but even I’m not delusional enough to know that no amount of summer makeovers will make me popular enough to date him.

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