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Summary
he could feel their eyes already.
“yo, tyler,” one of them called, voice carrying easy across the near-empty shop. “hook me up with the usual. and take your time, man. we got all day.”
tyler’s grip tightened on the rag. his throat clicked once, dry. he turned anyway, forcing the practiced customer-service smile that never reached his eyes.
“l-large caramel macchiato?” he tried. the first word stuck like it always did on the l, stretching into something ugly. heat crawled up the back of his neck.
the guy leaned forward on his elbows, grinning. “what was that? llll-arge? come on, dude, spit it out.”