I watched Allison scrutinize the menu for the third time, her perfectly manicured index finger inching towards the pasta salad that she always ordered. Always. I couldn't fathom why she felt the need to inspect the menu over and over again every week as if she would summon the courage to deflect from the regular option.

The waiter came over for the third time, his polite smile faltering with each second Allison took to decide whether she wished to eliminate any ingredients as a conscious effort to reduce her weight.

As always, she didn't and her forest green eyes landed on me. "I'll have one pasta salad, what would you have Mariana?"

"Orange juice with no ice," I replied flatly, knowing well that my couple of dollars was going to waste for a basic homemade drink served in a fancy glass which was the cheapest thing in the entire menu.

The waiter noted down our respective orders and left.

"You should try this cocktail . . . It's yum," Allison pointed at the indecipherable cursive writing. My eyes instantly darted towards the dollar signs, it was triple the price of the lemonade. If only I had made her aware of my poor economic condition, but then again, we have been hanging out in this vegan café since past two years and I didn't want to break this tradition. However stupid it was.

"Next time," I lied and she propped her round chin in the palm of her left hand.

We stared at each other, having nothing to talk.

"So . . . " She twirled her shiny blonde lock of hair. "What's new with you?"

"Thanks to your boyfriend, I'm working."

"That's nice!" she exclaimed, eager that we found a topic to chat about. This was the problem when both of us were dull introverts. Nothing exciting seemed to happen. "Any cute customer? Or should I say any Bailey with a big nut?"

She tried her best to fight back her smug smile, proud of cracking a dirty joke.

I laughed at her tomfoolery and she blushed, her baby face reddening. She looked like a fluffy ball of cotton candy in her taffy pink top with frilly sleeves, strawberry lip gloss and denim shorts. I was relieved that she found Tony who was equally naive like her because any other boy would take advantage of her and she wouldn't even realize.

"The only customers that are pouring in are idiots asking for a turkey leg," I said humorously and studying her eager eyes, I elaborated on the story, not once mentioning a more stirring subject- Isaac Connor.

She giggled, a secretive smile spreading across her chubby cheeks.

"You know . . . I bought this new bra," she whispered as if the people four tables away were interested in teenage girls' frivolous gossips.

I teased, adding my effort in our friendship, "Lucky Tony."

"I know right!" she squealed now and few heads four tables away turned to us. Her voice lowered again, her fingers surreptitiously showing the thin pink strap of her bra. "All lace and see through."

I wanted to get up from my chair and mock applaud her, but I controlled my impulse.

I could see why a soon-to-be adult virgin would get thrilled for having finally dared to buy scandalous undergarments, Allison and I were quite alike in such matters. "I'm jealous Ally."

"You can't be jealous of me. You're prettier than me or anyone else."

Before I could correct her that I was definitely not prettier than anyone else and further my contribution to our friendship by complimenting her beauty, the waiter arrived with a bowl of salad (how was pasta salad a salad? Allison and I clearly deferred in opinions in spite of my constant bickering about how it was NOT a salad) and my diluted juice.

"I'm going to kiss Tony this time," she suddenly said with determination, brutally stabbing a broccoli with her fork. "I'll remove my top too."

"Well, that's good," I said with a failed attempt at showing enthusiasm, knowing too well that they would only end up holding hands.

At least, she would continue being the only non-pregnant teenager I knew.

* * *

I rushed to Bailey's Nuts, the sour taste of orange juice tingling my tongue. Four pairs of eyes were on me, the most intense ones being the manager's. Realizing that it was my cue to apologise, I pulled on my best sad face and mumbled, "Sorry for being late. This won't happen again, I assure you."

The manager inspected me and I looked down, appearing timid and submissive.

Please don't fire me. Please don't fire me. Please---

"The smoothie machine broke. Help Isaac fix it," Tony said softly, dragging me to the pantry. "Next time come a little early. He's already pissed about yesterday's incident."

"That's because Isaac won't stop bugging me. Doesn't he get that I'm not interested in talking to him?"

"He's nice, it's not difficult to get along---" Tony stopped abruptly when I glared at him. "I-I mean the manager would want y-you t-to get along. Your choice though. And right, Isaac can be an asshole sometimes."

He can never be, you're lying.

I gave him a smile, pleased that he said what I wanted to hear.

"I was with Ally," I informed and it was amusing to watch Tony's nervous face change to an excited one. I whispered for my own fun, "She has worn something special. All lace and see through."

His entire face turned crimson and he uncomfortably stumbled to the door. "I-I'll go. I think a-a customer came."

"What did you do to him?" I heard Isaac's curious voice from behind and whirled around to find him charmingly smile at me. "He can't even walk properly."

I resisted my urge to speak and bit the inside of my cheek.

"I fixed the machine. You can go back there," he said cheerfully, his smile not faltering at my lack of response. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

What was he sorry for? Wasn't I the one to yell at him?

"It's okay," I blurted out, guilty, but sort of relieved that the blame was shifted from me.

"Will you sit with me at lunch?" His voice was quiet, quick, almost anxious that I would refuse which I should have.

"Fine," I said this instead, perhaps the leftover good part of me wanted to mend things. "As long as there's no Ana."

He cocked his head slightly, those soft eyes holding a ferocity that I didn't know he possessed.

Then he smiled for the third time, this one not fully concealing his wounded heart. "That's no problem."

I waited for 'Ana' to slip between those pillowy lips, but it never came.

* * *

Tony slid in the chair opposite to me before I could object. "Ally texted me."

"What did she say?" I asked because I was expected to.

He battled the blush crawling up his cheeks, fumbling with the phone in his hand. I was supposed to sit with Isaac during lunch since I gave him my word, but here I was, doing my best to tolerate Tony's dumb love. I bit into my ham sandwich, wincing at the amount of salt I had sprinkled.

He suddenly thrusted the phone on my face as I squinted at the screen, why the hell was his brightness so high?

I let my gaze dart from Tony to his screen for some dramatic effect. "Ally's home alone at nine huh?"

"What should I tell her?" he questioned in trepidation, placing the phone on his table and I mentally smacked my head.

"Idiot," I said loudly, unable to contain myself. He appeared more ashamed. "You should tell her you're coming over like any other guy with some teenage hormones would."

"What should I do there? Should I . . . "

At that moment, I stopped listening as Isaac entered the pantry, removing the red cap and freeing his wild hair. His grey eyes immediately searched for me as I sat there, my mouth packed with bread, immobile. He was about to smile for the fourth time, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. But then his gaze flickered to Tony and clenching his jaw, he looked away.

". . . Should I help her bake cookies or something?"

I rose from my chair, swallowing the morsel of bread. "You should go fuck her."

"W-What?" Tony was shaken, his brown eyes big.

"Fuck her, bang her, whatever," I repeated coarsely, marching towards Isaac. Isaac was sitting alone on the chair in the farthest corner of the room, blue earphones stuffed in his ears. I hauled a chair behind me and at the sound of its legs scraping against the tiled floor, he peered up at me. Noticing that I caught his attention, he stared down again at his lunch box. "Hey."

He continued stabbing the pastry with a fork, his nostrils flaring slightly.

"Hey Isaac," I reiterated, feeling peevish myself. "Hey."

He didn't look up, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him furtively lower the volume of his music. Good.

"I told you I'm sitting with you for lunch," I said calmly, testing him. "Are you mad that I didn't?"

He remained quiet, probably realizing how petty and childish his behaviour was.

"You broke a promise again Ana," he said in a small voice, toying with the piece of croissant, it's flaky bits falling.

I stilled, caught off-guard by his sudden attack. "There's no Ana between us."

His eyes were fixed as if in deep thought on the ruined mess of a croissant, it's pastry torn. Finally, he nodded faintly, pulling the earphones and unplugging it from his phone. Why was I stuck with sensitive dumbasses?

"So . . . " he began and I knew that tone. Allison always used it on me, it was a classic conversation starter. "Is Tony your . . . "

I was going to laugh at that insinuation, but somehow Tony had to pass by our table right then with his scarlet face coyly glancing at me.

"Oh okay," Isaac said half-heartedly and I didn't bother to correct his ludicrous assumption. At least, if he believed that I had a boyfriend especially some kind angel like Tony who one wouldn't typically want to cheat on, he would maintain some distance between us. Then I could successfully evade any discussion of our past. "Do you want a croissant?"

"Yeah I would better starve than eat that poor thing," I remarked, snatching the fork from him. "You committed an atrocious crime using a fork. You murdered it."

A genuine smile which wasn't to conceal any melancholy spread across his lips.

He bantered, "Hopefully, I would be forgiven."

"We'll see," I said soberly, hinting at something else, but he was already picking up the butchered croissant with his hands, unaware of my implications.