“There she is,” I cry out as an exhausted-looking Stix walks into Cake. The café is busy but I managed to snag us one of the sofas knowing that Taylor would be bringing her over this afternoon. She sinks down next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.
“How did the final exam go?” I ask. “It was chemistry, wasn’t it?”
“My brain is fried, Abs. When am I ever going to need this stuff?” Stix asks wearily. I really feel for her. I always struggled with exams myself, the nerves making me so jittery I would second guess everything I wrote down.
“Probably never,” I say with a chuckle nudging her gently. “But would a milkshake and a slice of cake help?”
Stix cracks open an eyelid and the corners of her mouth turn up, “Yeah, I think that might do the trick.”
At that moment, Bea bustles over
