"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice laced with disbelief. "You're the one who wanted to try couples therapy."

"I didn't think you'd actually go out and book six sessions." Jenna huffed. "I said it rhetorically."

"How was I to know you were being rhetorical?"

"People our age don't go to therapy, like, duh!" she complained, lips pursing in barely contained frustration

Well, I'll admit she was right. We were barely nineteen.

"It's not like we're some old married couple," Jenna continued. "You are so out of it."

A waiter skidded to our table and Jenna waved him away before I could look up. I caught a glance of a pair of neon Nike's as they slid away, moving across the polished floor as if they were trying to skate.

Jenna droned on for a while about how clueless I was. "I just cannot believe you, Clemmy," she finally whined.

I hated when she called me that.

"And my water glass is almost empty," she exclaimed. "Where's a waiter when you need one?"

She angrily waved back the waiter she had dismissed earlier, complaining all the while about the lack of service.

Jenna continued her explanation on why I was stupid for booking six non-refundable therapy sessions. She gave the list in the form of bullets, counting them off on her fingers as she articulated her points with gusto.

I looked up at the waiter in apology as he poured her water. The first thing I noticed about him was his smirk.

Or grin, rather. He was grinning widely, a slight overbite pushing into full lips. A shock of curly, black hair framed his tanned face, which held a small nose and wide-set eyes. They seemed too large for his face, with irises dark enough to swallow his pupils whole. The fairly delicate features were offset by a square chin over a prominent Adams apple, giving his face a subtle hint of masculinity.

The boy seemed to be taking great entertainment from the situation as Jenna continued her spiel. I made eye contact with him, his starry eyes twinkling and crinkling at the corners.

I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh.

"Clem, I think we need to break up," Jenna stated.

Clem. Another name I hated being called. Wait, what was that other thing?

"It's just not working out, Clemmy-tine," she added. "You're so serious all the time. You take everything seriously!"

I think 'Clemmy-tine' is by far my least favourite.

"It's because I'm serious about you, Jenna," I finally said, feeling exhausted. Speaking to her always seemed to exhaust me.

"Well it's not like we're going to be together forever, Clem, we're still young." She patted my arm reassuringly. "I'm sure you'll find a girl someday who would really love going to therapy with you."

I frowned. The waiter almost snorted. Oh right, he was still here.

"That's not really the point—" I started.

"You WILL, Clemmy, I just know it!" Jenna stood up and leaned over the table, dramatically slamming her palm against my chest. "You have a good heart and you will find love someday. It just won't be with me."

And with that, she flounced out of the cafe, officially ending our three year relationship. The waiter burst out laughing.

Rude.

"Excuse you, I just got broken up with," I huffed as he slipped into her empty chair.

Uninvited, I might add.

"Dude, you tried to take her to couples therapy?" he snorted, almost gasping for air. My pain was obviously hilarious to him.

"She said she wanted to go," I grumbled.

'HAha, aah....'

His eyes glistened with tears. His irises were jet-black, so indistinguishable from his pupils to the point where they gave the impression of being dilated. They were framed with thick, long lashes that curled in wayward directions. His lashes were as messy as his messy black hair. The curly locks were long enough to fall over his face, but not quite so long that it blocked his pretty eyes.

"Well I'm glad this whole scene entertained you, at least." I crossed my arms over my chest. "But I should get going now."

"Wait, wait don't go." He grabbed my arm as I started to get up, yanking me back into my seat. "Let me get you a muffin first. On the house."

"Do you give out free muffins to anyone who gets broken up with in here?" I grinned despite myself.

"Are you kidding? We'd go out of business in a week. Dude, you would not believe—"

"I should go anyway, but thanks for the offer," I cut him off. "You probably shouldn't be offering free muffins...or chilling out here during your shift."

"Nah, it's fine." He swiveled to the side and threw his legs over the side of the chair. "Slow day."

I glanced around. Nearly every seat was taken and two customers were even waving for his attention. He seemed not to care.

"You're probably going to get fired from here soon," I observed.

"I wish." He sighed. "I'm stuck here for the summer; I almost miss school. Almost."

I rolled my eyes. He was my age then, having just graduated high school and deciding what to do for college.

"Hang on," he said, jumping off from the side of the chair and almost tipping it over in the process. Chaotic.

He disappeared behind the counter for a moment and came back carrying two large muffins.

"Chocolate banana chip," he claimed, setting them down on the table. "They're my own invention but I'm not allowed to sell them here."

I gazed at the muffins in trepidation. They were oddly shaped, spilling over the side of the muffin cup. They had no consistency so to speak, the chocolate chips being too big to make it possible for the muffin to stay together. Stuffed into large crevices were slices of banana. No, not slices. It looked more like pieces of banana that were hand broken, smushed, and then crammed in. I could see why he wasn't allowed to sell them here.

They looked, quite literally, like crap.

The boy clambered back onto his chair in an undignified manner. He sat cross legged this time, his neon Nike's resting carelessly on the upholstered seat. "Go on. Try it."

I stared at him in horror. He stared at me in expectation. I took a deep breath and went in for a bite.

Nothing could've prepared me for the flavours that burst in my mouth. Warm chocolate oozed out, mixed with the softest hint of banana. It was like nothing I've ever tried before.

"Wow," I mumbled, wiping some off my chin. It was worth the mess. "That's really good."

The boy beamed. "Right?! Can you believe they denied me?"

"Maybe no one would buy it from looking at it...."

The boy glared at me. "You can't judge based on appearances."

"I'll keep that in mind." I smiled.

He stuffed his own muffin into his mouth and made quick work of it, seeming oblivious to the chocolate smearing itself on his brown skin. My gaze dropped to his uniform which was now covered in crumbs. A pink polo shirt embroidered with the cafe logo. My eyes travelled over to his name tag.

"Everett?" I asked in surprise. The name fell from my lips like a lilting melody, soft and sweet.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just—" I smiled. "That seems too delicate a name for you."

He rolled his eyes. "What do you think I should be called?"

"I don't know, uh, Bruiser...Busky?"

"Bruiser Busky?" Everett snorted so hard that muffin bits came out of his nose. Kinda gross.

"Everyone calls me Evan anyway," he said after a moment.

"I like Everett."

He ducked his head. "Whatever...what's your name, Clemmy-tine?"

"It's Clementine," I grumbled, my mood going south. I had almost forgotten I'd just been broken up with.

"Sorry, Clementine then." He smiled. "That's from Clematis, a climbing vine of beautiful flowers."

"I'm really allergic to flowers."

"Yeah? It suits you though." A teasing grin spread across his face.

I rolled my eyes. "Doesn't Everett originate from some flower name too? It sounds nature-like."

"Nope. It means 'brave and strong boar.'"

I snorted. "You're named after a pig."

Everett glared at me. "I'll have you know, Clementine, that the boar actually has some very coveted traits."

"Yeah?" I grinned. "And what are these coveted traits, if I may so inquire?"

"Well they're really fast." He paused. "And they have good swimming abilities."

We sat in silence for a while and I found my thoughts slipping back to Jenna. It felt unreal, like I hadn't really come to grips with it yet. We had been together three years; she had been my first girlfriend. I couldn't quite process it.

"Hey, do you want me to go for those therapy sessions with you?" Everett suddenly asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"What, why? The couples therapy?"

"Yeah, you can't go alone right."

I stared at him dumbfounded. "I wasn't planning to go anymore."

"You can't just waste six therapy sessions, Clementine, it's not the done thing," he explained. "Besides, it'll be fun. We can see how long it takes the therapist to figure out we don't know each other."

"They'd know instantly. Dr. Wrinkle is a licensed therapist," I argued.

"Dr. Wrinkle?" Everett snickered. "Come on, I bet we can go six sessions without them figuring it out. Name your stakes."

"I don't know, uhh, if they figure it out you gotta make me more muffins," I said half-heartedly.

"And if they don't, then you help me bake the muffins." Everett pointed at me. 'I don't like to whisk things.'

"Do I get to eat the muffins either way?"

"Yeah! See, it's a win-win situation," he explained, eyes twinkling with mischief.

I considered it for a moment. I was sure Everett's plan wouldn't work, but it's not like I had anything better to do with my time.

"When does your first session start?"

I hesitated. "In like an hour."

"Take me with you," he begged.

"Why?"

Everett stared at me blankly. "I am just bored out of my mind."

A/n: Hey y'all! Vampire here!

I've made a Spotify playlist for this book! If you wanna download it you can search me on Spotify @itsmeimthevampire and the playlist name is "Idiots To Lovers"

Enjoy the story ❤️