Page 32 of Broken Trust
He launches a pickle slice across the table.
It bounces off Axle’s forehead.
“Leave her alone, asshat. She’s gonna do a phenomenal job.”
Axle looks down at the pickle.
Then at Cabe.
“You threw a pickle at me.”
“Yep. Got another one locked and loaded right here,” Cabe says, picking up another slice.
The table laughs again.
My embarrassment slowly fades.
Especially when Cabe reaches over and squeezes my hand.
“You’ll be great,” he whispers.
I lean lightly against his shoulder. Grateful beyond words that he’s here. Because he has always had this gift. The ability to calm every storm in my head. No matter how nervous or how overwhelmed I feel. Somehow, Cabe Trust always makes things easier.
I glance around the dining hall.
Students laughing.
Staff talking.
Families visiting.
The entire place is buzzing with energy and excitement.
Tomorrow, the real work begins.
Tomorrow, I’ll face responsibilities, expectations, and pressure.
But tonight?
Tonight feels good. It feels like coming home.
I pick up my cheeseburger. Take a gigantic bite. And immediately moan. “Oh my God.”
Charli points at me. “You just had a foodgasm, didn’t you?”
I nod. “It’s incredible.”
I take another bite.
Then another.
The burger disappears in four bites.
Around me, everyone is equally focused on eating.
I glance toward the dessert station, where homemade ice cream waits for later.
Then back at my overflowing plate.
