Abel

She's fifteen minutes late, but that's nothing new. I've spent most of my life waiting for my mom. I don't normally drink caffeine, I find it causes my anxiety and heart rate to spike, but since she suggested we meet at Get Baked, I've made an exception. Gabby, the owner, comes over, a smile spread across her face.

"Hey Abel, I have a new cookie. Would you like to try it?" She holds a plate in front of my face, running it under my nose. 

The smell of toffee ...