“Yeah, my body’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” Trevon says. He’s the starting defensive end this season, and he’s worked hard to make that happen.
“Oh no, Coach B. is at it again?” I ask as I unlock the door.
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear him yelling over at the Hideaway,” Trevon grumbles.
“Sorry, kid. You’ve got this though.” I enter the building first and turn on all the lights. “Blissy will be here soon, and I’m sure she’s got something in her cart for you.”
Blissy’s real name is Brenda, and she hates it, but she’s been called Blissy the entire time I’ve known her. She’s an older woman with kind eyes who owns Blissful Beans & Leaves, the popup caffeine shop here at the Chugaloo, and she knows every piece of gossip that passes through these walls.
The heavily debated war in town over what’s better, coffee or tea, keeps me from calling it a coffee shop because I prefer peace to war. If you ever need to change the subject though, you just ask anyone in town “coffee or tea?” and then watch the fireworks.
The residents of Happiness, Georgia are serious about their choices.
“You have midterms coming up, right?” Bending down, I plug in Blissy’s equipment for her. Thursdays are the only day she doesn’t get in earlier than me. Then I turn on the lights in the sound booth for the high school club that’ll be here after school.
“Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison.
Reaching into the quiet room, I turn up the AC then shut the door. Even at the tail end of September, Georgia’s sticky air lingers. “Are you both ready?”
Groans give me my answer.
“Trig is brutal, but I’m doing all the study packets,” Ethan says.
“My sociology midterm is a twenty-page paper, and it’s killing me,” Trevon says.
“I could help you with that,” says a deep voice I recognize.
I spin around so fast, I get dizzy.
Braxton.
“Ah…” Okay, I can no longer form sentences.
Braxton moves away from the doorway and shuts it behind him. “I was a journalism major with a minor in marketing and business management. I’m pretty good with a red pen,” he grumbles, the timbre of his voice scorching my insides.
“Um,” Trevon says, his gaze bouncing between us.
“Trevon, this is Mr. Braxton, Braxton, this is Trevon. Trevon’s very important to all of us around here because he’s a starting defensive end. You’ll quickly learn that we take college football very seriously in Happiness.”
I swear, Trevon blushes.
“It’s nice to meet you both.” Braxton turns to Ethan. “Sorry, I’m not much help with trigonometry. I failed that in college.”
Something about him admitting he failed at something makes him seem less godlike, but I have a hard time imagining him failing at anything. Everything I’ve seen so far screams that he’s the kind of guy who gets what he wants.
“Ah, that’s okay. I have a study session with a tutor tomorrow.” Ethan is trying not to stare, but he was born and raised here. New blood doesn’t happen often unless they’re part of the university, and the professionals who move here are hardly ever this young.
Wait, does he work for the university? My professors certainly never look like Braxton Mitchell.
“That’s good.” Braxton scans the space. “I’d never be able to teach.” Turning back to Trevon, he says, “But if you need a proofreader, I can do that in my sleep.”
But he also answered my earlier thought…he’s not working for the university, so what the heck is he doing here?
Trevon stares at him skeptically, but finally nods. “That would be great, thank you, sir.” He sounds so hesitant I almost laugh.
I take a closer look at Braxton and realize he’s changed his clothes. And they look…new. In fact, his jeans still have the clear size sticker on the leg.
“Ah, you’ve got something…right here,” I say, pointing to the back of my thigh.
