My nose scrunched at the four weird Bean Heads running around the shop on their scooters. By the time I had caught sight of the silly string emerging from Mimi's sweater pocket, I wasn't able to get out the 'O' in "No" because she already pushed the button. Blue spongy foam shot in every direction my little sister zipped past.

I groaned, my head tilting to the side and took in the mess my younger sister and brothers were making. It was already bad enough they made a mess everywhere in our house but it was even worse because they were quadruplets. Yes, you read that right. Quadruplets. 

My younger siblings weren't your normal seven-year-olds.

Silly string... scooters with mud tracking on the tires... hidden scissors in their rooms after mysterious holes were found in shirts and sweaters... food fights during the three meals of the day, and other atrocious behaviors officially cemented my hunch that the Bean Heads would be homicidal maniacs making their television debut on Dateline by the time they were eighteen.

My parents didn't see what I did about their "growing children" and told me I was just being dramatic. Pft. Like I liked being reminded.

You know those times when your siblings can do something really bad and right in front of your parents, and your culprit siblings won't get in trouble, but the moment you do something, your parents are pulling a Mrs. Weasley and using a Howler to tear you down? Happens to me. Every. Single. Time.

Which is why I wasn't surprised when I shouted at the little bean-heads to stop running around and spraying the silly string that I didn't get any form of parental disciplinary back up. Instead, I got this: "Oh, Gemma, they're just kids! Leave them alone! And stop yelling in the shop! People won't come in if you keep shouting like you do, they'll think you're crazy!" Mom scolded from her perfect rectangular view.

My eyes narrowed at the now empty space after Dad called her away for assistance.

Grinding my teeth together, I shook my head and faced the Bean Heads laughing and shouting with Mimi's silly string. The floor was officially covered in the blue foam. Even the chairs and tables. Where did she even get that?

I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples. Patience, Gemma. Patience.

The bell above the door jingled and I scrunched my face, hoping when I open my eyes there wasn't any sign of blue foam or my sociopath siblings around to embarrass me. That, however, was not possible when I could still hear the giggling and shouting and even the SHHT! of the silly string.

Groaning, I dropped my hands onto the counter from my usual spot behind the counter and raised my head to plaster a smile on my face. I was going to just have to ignore the Bean Heads running around. Maybe if I ignored them, the customer would, too.

My smile wilted when I saw my no good, cheating ex-boyfriend maneuvering around one of the tables. Mimi was right behind him; scooter and silly string long forgotten. Mimi was giggling and jumping with her arms up and begging for him to play with her.

It should be noted my little sister has had a crush on my ex-boyfriend since first introducing him to my parents. Though Mom knew he was my boyfriend at the time, Dad didn't. He just assumed Orson was an addition to the two best friends I already had. Um, no. Wrong-O. Niet.

If Dad knew he had been shaking the hand of the boy who would be taking his daughter's virginity, and engaging (repeatedly) in the naked tango dance, I'm sure there would be a cemetery somewhere with Orson's headstone. Hm. Maybe I should have told Dad.

Slanting my jaw to the side and crossing my arms, I tilted my head as Orson approached the counter. My eyes narrowed when he grinned that stupid grin of his and raised his brows before saying, "Hey."

Orson's grin didn't waver, even with my scowling and my homicidal thoughts of taking him to the kitchen to scorch his face against the stove. The boy irked me, ladies and gentlemen; irked me so bad. What was he even doing here?

"What do you want?" My icy tone wasn't missed.

"Ouch, that's no way to greet a customer."

My brows shot upward, my arms still cross as I leaned forward and scoffed a chuckle. "A customer? No. N-O! You are not welcome here. Goodbye, Sayonara, Ciao!" I flicked my fingers at him gesturing that I wanted him to leave. However, Orson Sheffield just chuckled.

Tilting his head, Orson smiled as he said, "Still as funny as ever, Gem." He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans which hung nicely on his hips. I scolded myself for that. I wasn't supposed to be admiring anything of Orson's anymore. Not after what he did. Which I had to remind him.

"Still cheating?" I asked with a bite.

Orson's gray eyes looked upward, sighing heavily and shook his head before saying my name in a droll tone. I shook my head, shaking my finger in his face that I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to hear his excuses then and I didn't want to know now.

His eyes narrowed slightly, scrunching his nose. "Why? Because O'Malley is the one who suddenly gets you all hot and bothered?"

I gasped, wide eyed then slammed my hands on the counter, leaning to snap that Ryan wasn't any of Orson's business. Orson just rolled his eyes, shaking his head and muttered something under his breath but I wasn't close enough to hear.

Sighing with my eyes closed, I straightened behind the safety of the counter. Clearing my throat, I tilted my head to the side and inquired Orson's reason for coming into the taco shop on such a blazing hot day.

"Is there somewhere else I'm supposed to be?" Orson asked, raising a brow. He seemed to have let go of his irritability about Ryan, and so did I. Temporarily, anyway.

To answer his question, I nodded behind him at another day of a long line over at Swirl-Moothies. Orson looked over his shoulder then back at me, scrunching his nose that he didn't see the point of waiting in line across the street if he didn't even like ice cream.

I lowered a brow, studying his scrunched face while I thought back to when we were dating. Orson loved banana smoothies. Or at least he did when I made them for us. Maybe he hadn't all this time and pretended to for the sake of our relationship? Whatever. Shouldn't care.

Shaking my head, I huffed, "Well... Then why the hell are you here?"

Orson glanced to the side then started looking around the shop with a frown on his face. I squinted my eyes, studying him as he did this for a whole minute then Orson craned his neck forward, pointing his finger downward at the counter. "Is... Is this not a taco shop? Can I not buy tacos here?"

He grinned at me when I slowly shook my head and mumbled, "You're ridiculous."

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a notepad and a pen that hadn't been used for anything other than my doodles on the back of said notepad. "So... What can I get you?" I asked him, not looking up as I flipped the booklet to a fresh new page.

Orson narrowed his eyes up at the menu hung up on the wall behind me. He pursed his lips, tapping his chin like he was thinking. I sulked, my eyelids half-mast at how long he was taking. I knew he was doing this on purpose.

The jerk grinned, looking at me and chuckled, "I'm just kidding, Gem. I'll have the usual." then causally leaned on the counter with his arms crossed. His brows rose with his lips reeled in.

I stared back with narrowed eyes. My pen was still braced against the paper. "The usual?" I questioned, scrunching my nose then scoffed that Orson didn't come in here often enough to have a usual. "No one has a usual," I pointed out.

Orson grinned, teasing on how I was such a good publicist for my family's shop, and I growled back that he was pushing my buttons. He stared at me, both us standing in the silence for a few seconds. Then Orson raised a brow and repeated again that he'd have the usual.

When I tried another three times about "his usual", Orson contradicted that I very much knew what it was. Taking a deep breath, I narrowed my eyes again but the expectant look Orson was giving me had burst my bubble.

Rolling my eyes, I sulked and tipped my head back to groan in the dramatic way Mom and Dad say I do all the time. I didn't bother writing anything down, and instead tossed the booklet on the counter before stomping over to the rectangular window and shouted, "Four fish tacos, no onions, extra sour cream, and lots of that green salsa on the side, Dad!"

The request surprised my family lounging in the back; Dad startled from messing with the radio dial as Mom and Rose's heads snapped in my direction. After glancing at one another, unsure if they heard me, they jumped to their feet. My parents and sister moved about the kitchen quickly, happily mumbling that they had a customer.

After a few seconds of watching them for a bit, I rigidly turned around.

Orson was smirking, tilting his head to the side. "So you do know my usual."

"Unfortunately," I muttered through grit teeth and approached the counter again.

Moving the booklet and pen to the side, I rang up his order then gave Orson the total he owed. Stuffing his hand into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet---the one I'd given him for his sixteenth birthday---and opened it to pull out a twenty. When he handed the money over, he smiled that I could keep the change.

I raised a brow, my hand still in the air with the twenty pinched between two fingers. Blinking at his kind gesture, I looked away without saying anything and collected his change to place in front of him. Orson set a hand on top of it, sliding it back to me and repeated for me to keep the change.

My eyes narrowed when he rolled his eyes that to just take the money and let it go.

"You let go pretty easily, don't you?" I snipped.

"Oh my fucking goodness!" Orson snapped, not noticing the look I gave him for cursing in front of my siblings. They momentarily paused in their chaotic play to stare over at us before resuming their play.

Orson leaned over, narrowing his eyes. "When are you going to let that go?"

"When you drop dead, Sheffield!" I snapped back, leaning on the counter too.

We both had a stare down; probably a little too close for comfort because one of my stupid little brothers suddenly cried, "Ooooo, Gemma's gonna kiss a boooooooy!" I'm pretty sure it was Nicky, but he sounded a lot like Luke, so I couldn't be sure.

At the loud outburst, I pulled back, eyes wide while Orson turned around to raise his brows at Nicky---Luke?---who threatened he was going to tell our dad. I rolled my eyes telling my brother to shut up which earned another reason for him to tattle. Now I was really hoping my dad could hurry up with that order.

I scrunched my nose, turning around and stomped once more over to the small window. "Dad! How about them tacos?"

"Mija, they're almost done! Relax!" he shouted back, passing my vision of the window with a plate of the smoking tacos ordered. He handed them off to Mom before disappearing from my sight again.

I decided to wait by the window since going back to the counter meant speaking to Orson. Frowning with my arms crossed, I tapped my foot impatiently. The snicker behind me had my foot freeze mid-tap as I glared over my shoulder. 

Orson grinned, leaning on the counter again. "It's still cute when you're mad."

Spinning on my heel, I placed my hands on my hips and snapped that he was to cut that out.

"Cut what out?" Orson raised his brows like he didn't know what he was doing.

"That! That flirting you're doing!" I walked over, narrowing my eyes more. "You can't do that anymore, Orson. We aren't together! You lost that right when you decided sleeping with Danielle was such a bright idea!"

Orson narrowed his eyes, his cheeks flushing as he stood up to his full height. That had always been something I loved about him. That Orson was so much taller than my five-foot-two, and he would have to bend down to kiss me. It had always been so romantic to me. Now his height was just scary, along with that look on his face.

"I really don't want to get into this with you, Gem." Orson growled, narrowing those gray eyes.

"Well, good! Because I just want you out of here!" I snapped back.

"Gemma!"

Both Orson and I turned at Mom, Dad, and Rose exiting the kitchen. Orson's order was in a white to-go container in Mom's hands. She was giving me a stern look and I rolled my eyes, looking away.

"Hi, Mrs. Magaña," Orson greeted, grinning like he hadn't been ready to poke my eyes moments ago.

Dad squinted as he looked from Orson to me and back. Mom was the complete opposite with a huge smile and setting Orson's Styrofoam container in front of him as she asked how he was doing. Without glancing at me, Orson nodded he was doing okay and had been getting a lot of cravings for tacos the past few weeks so he decided to stop by.

Mom frowned, tilting her head. "I noticed you hadn't been visiting! I was so used to seeing you in here with the other two kids." She glanced at me at this particular moment but I tightened my lips, crossing my arms to look away.

I hadn't told Mom about our breakup because then that leads to deeper questions, and I have this thing where I have a hard time lying, especially to my mother. It only happened when it came to keeping eye contact. I know for a fact my mom would make me into little tacos if she knew I had lost my virginity and I hadn't told her. Then she'd probably go after Orson which I wouldn't have minded but that would mean getting me into just as much trouble. After all, I had only been fourteen.

While Mom was eyeballing me, and Dad was scolding one of my unruly siblings (shocker!), Rose raised a brow as she looked at my ex-boyfriend. "How's it going, Orson?" Rose had this tone in her voice I couldn't really decipher. But apparently my ex-boyfriend could.

Orson narrowed his eyes at my sister---which I found odd because he was always so nice to everyone---and he shrugged that he was okay. He didn't ask her the greeting back which was so unlike Mr. Polite and Popular. Instead, it was my sister who kept asking Orson question after question that the boy would either roll his eyes to or answer with a short, curt response. So, odd of him.

Mom frowned, smacking the back of her hand against my sister's arm. "Hey, niña! Leave the boy alone! He's hungry!" She turned to Orson with a smile. "Aren't you, Orson?"

Orson grinned, nodding he was starving (insert eye roll here) and then he pointed to the box in front of him. "I'd stay and eat, but my dad needs me back home. I just really had a hankering for your tacos, Mrs. M." He picked up the to-go plate, using it to gesture it up in the air as a silent thank you, then gave me a nod. "See you around, Gem." 

Orson made a swift move to spin out of the way to escape my little sister chasing him down again. Luckily, he reached the door and left before Mimi could smother him.

I felt Mom's eyes on the side of my face as I stared at the door. Turning to look at her, I raised a brow as she did. She gave me this 'we'll talk later' look and I sighed, nodding before she followed my dad back into the kitchen. Then it was just Rose and me.

I noticed she was looking at the door with narrowed eyes and her jaw clenched tightly. I nudged my sister, asking if she was alright. Rose clicked her tongue against her teeth before scrunching her nose and told me not to touch her. My sister stomped on her way back to the kitchen.

"Well, what crawled up her ass and died?" I muttered under my breath because I know the little monsters would tattle if they heard me curse.

When I got back to my place by the register where I had left the notepad and pen, I reached over to put it back underneath the counter. I paused from taking the notepad when I noticed something written on it.

Frowning, I tilted my head to see it better, but it was written upside down. I squinted, turning the notepad right side to read the words scribbled in the corner. I looked up at the doorway then glanced down at the paper again.

My brows furrowed the longer I stared at what Orson had scrawled in his penmanship. I glanced at the doorway Orson left moments ago. I quickly ripped off the entire page from the notepad, folding it and put it in my back pocket.

Biting the corner of my lip, I kept glancing at the doorway, thinking about the slip of paper Orson had written:

𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙧.

What was that supposed to mean?

I bit my lip, pondering the cryptic message until a quick SHHT! cut my thoughts, and blue foam hit me in the face.