“Sorry,” I said, “Am I annoying you?”
“Yes,” he replied shortly.
I sighed, “Alright, you win. I’ll drive you back to school. I’m going to head home though, I think. I don’t really want to sit through seventh hour, especially hyped up on caffeine.”
“You didn’t even drink anything,” he stared at my full cup.
“You want it?” I offered.
He shrugged and downed it. I stared at him. “What?” he asked.
“Shit, Drew, you just chugged searing hot Espresso Macchiato.”
“So?” he asked in surprise.
“So how can you stand it?” I asked speculatively.
He shrugged. “Honestly, you must have a ridiculously strong tolerance for coffee. Or heat.”
I blinked. It was totally illogical for that statement to bring back memories. I’d never had coffee with her, I’d never had anything close to this conversation. The only thing that clicked was ‘you must be ridiculously strong.’ And suddenly, one conversation was coming back to me. I was frozen.
“Drew, are you ok?” she asked.
“Um, yeah,” I mumbled, hurrying after her.