The week drug on…and on. I spent my Friday off with Travis, but hadn’t heard from him in three days. I shuffled my way into work on Tuesday, Ben greeted me in his usual happy manner but stopped short when he saw my expression.

“What’s wrong?” He gasped.

“Nothing,” I muttered, walking over to the counter and burying my face in it.

“You guys did it, didn’t you?” He asked, poking me in the back with a spoon trying to get me to get off of the counter.

“Shut up,” I growled.

“Oh my goodness, you did!” He gasped again, so excitedly, that his arms went up and the spoon went flying, hitting a customer who spilled coffee all down their shirt.

“Oops!” He shouted, and ducked under the counter, grabbing me on the way down and dragging me down to the floor. We could hear the customer shouting, but he ignored it.

“So?” he prodded.

“He hasn’t talked to me since,” I muttered, “Which is weird because we talk every single day.”

“What a creep,” Ben muttered as the spoon came flying back at us.