Tag Along by Tom Ryan Page B

first step.”
    Andrea’s attention drifts past me. “Check it out,” she says, pointing across the street.
    I turn and see Paul and Candace sitting inside the Starbucks. We cross the street to the coffee shop and stop outside, watching them through the window. They’re a mismatched couple, to say the least, but it actually kind of looks like they’re on a first date or something.
    â€œMan oh man,” I say. “If Lannie saw this, they’d both have to go into the witness protection program.”
    I knock on the window and Paul waves, beckoning us in. The look on Candace’s face is harder to read. I wonder if she wants us there at all.
    â€œWhat happened to you guys?” I ask, taking a seat.
    Paul and Candace go back and forth as they tell us the cop story. “My dad’s going to kick my ass if I don’t get his ladder home tonight,” Paul says, leaning back into his seat.
    â€œCan’t you just go home and get the truck again?” asks Andrea.
    â€œThat cop was being a total asshole,” says Candace. “If we go back up there in the truck, he’ll be all over us.”
    â€œWhat about my parents’ Land Cruiser?” I ask. “It has a roof rack. Would the ladder fit on top of it?”
    â€œAre you serious?” says Paul. “That would totally work. You don’t think your parents would mind?”
    â€œThey’d be thrilled to help,” I tell him. “They’re very enthusiastic people.”
    â€œThat would be awesome, man. Thanks!” he says.
    I glance past him as a couple of women come in and walk up to the counter. “Uh, Paul,” I say. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but does Lannie have any idea that you’re spending prom night hanging out with the Breakfast Club?”
    â€œWhat? No, so please don’t mention it next time you see her.”
    â€œThat’s not what I’m getting at,” I say. “Don’t turn around now, but her mom just walked in.”
    â€œShit!” he says, slouching down in his seat.
    â€œOkay, listen,” I say. “The important thing is not to panic.” I turn to the girls. “I’m going to make a distraction and then you guys hustle Paul out of here. Try to keep him covered.”
    â€œRoemi, he’s a foot taller than either of us,” says Andrea.
    â€œJust do your best, and wait for the right moment.” I jump out of my chair and run over to the counter, where Mrs. Freston and her friend are waiting for their coffees. I quickly move around in front of her to keep her facing away from our table. “Hi, Mrs. Freston!” I say.
    She actually jumps a little bit, startled. “Oh, Roemi. You scared me. How are you?”
    â€œI’m fine, Mrs. Freston,” I say cheerfully. I make a quick motion with my hand, signaling for Paul and the girls to leave. Paul shakes his head and points past me at the door. I know what he means—if they run for the door, Mrs. Freston will definitely see him. But she’ll also see him if she turns away from the counter with her drink. We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.
    I just stand there, smiling like an idiot. My mind races, trying to figure out what to do. I’m obviously interrupting them, but I can’t lose their attention.
    â€œDo you like my tuxedo?” I ask.
    â€œIt’s very…colorful,” she says. “Why aren’t you at prom?”
    â€œOh, it’s a long story, Mrs. Freston,” I say. “I guess you could say I’m president of the lonely hearts club this evening. Drowning my sorrows in a skim macchiato with an extra shot of espresso, a pump of vanilla and whipped cream. I know the whipped cream kind of defeats the purpose of the skim, but you know what they say, yin and yang. The circle of life and all that.”
    Behind her, Paul and the girls move slowly through the coffee shop and stop